When you’re young, it feels like waiting forever for your period to come. Then, once you start, it feels like you are going to have a period forever. I can’t tell you how many times I wished it would stop in my lifetime. But I never thought, and still don’t, about what it would be like to have your last period ever.
As many of you know, since I wrote about it ad nauseum as I was freaking out, I’ve been having some issues of late with my lady bits. A few weeks ago, it was a few hours before my birthday and I felt more like I was about to attend my own funeral. That’s what happens when you have a 38-day period, an emergency “poor man’s d&c” and you are on so many hormones that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry, so you do both. Anyways, if you want to read about that..it’s all on this blog.
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Today though, I’m here to talk to you about something completely different. Now, after 78 days of constant flow of the heaviest cycle, I’ve ever experienced, anemia induced by blood loss and generally not being sure what the heck is going on with my female parts. Today, with a hysterectomy on the horizon, I’m realizing that this nearly 3 month period will be my last ever.
Which is amazing in all kinds of All CAPs AWESOME ways but then it hit me, just now, in the shower, that this is probably my last.period.ever. I should be ecstatic. I mean 78 days is a long time. But so is forever.
Last year, when my doctor first came to me with the idea of a hysterectomy. I looked at her like she was insane. I’m too young for a hysterectomy. I’m not menopausal. I’m vibrant. I’m fertile. I’m every freaking 28 days, ovulating on day 14. I’m a reproductive machine. Only this machine has chosen not to grow any more humans. This machine is not a machine at all. It’s a woman with all the feels. I’m a woman who found out last week that my uterus and fibroids are conspiring to mess me up. They are doing medically unseen things.
READ ALSO: Why I Won’t get an Elective Hysterectomy
Last year, a hysterectomy was an elective opportunity to stop some nuisance heavy days. I knew I wasn’t going to have any more babies because when I lost the one, it broke me but I wanted the option. What can I say, my uterus makes me feel special. It’s like a superpower and I wasn’t ready to give that up. I’m still not BUT when you are hit square in the jaw with an emergency type situation and told that you might have cancer, well, then a hysterectomy sounds like a breeze; like clipping toenails or trimming fringe. That’s how I came around to my current reality.
But now my period, this crazy long cycle, is my very last period. I mean she’s going out with a bang. 34 years of right on time cycles ending with a 78-day, Shining type of a rager, I’d say my uterus is the flipping Rolling Stones rock star of uteri.
READ ALSO: Why I’m having a Hysterectomy before the Fibroids Kill Me
Why am I telling you all of this? Well, many of you have been here since the girls were babies. You held my heart when it was broken into a zillion tiny pieces and duck taped that bitch back together when I lost my third baby. You’ve read all about the saga that is my reproductive mishaps, I thought you’d like to know when I played my farewell show. I don’t think there will be any more encores. There better not be. Geez, Keith Richards the uterus…go the fuck home.
But, I’m scared. Nothing about this has been “normal”. I’m constantly surprising my gynecologist and I really don’t know what to expect tomorrow. I may wake up with an incision and no ovaries but the plan is to have a robotic surgery and leave the ovaries. I’m not ready for menopause or any of the hormonal treatments that go with it. I’ve been on hormones for the past 78 days to stop the bleeding and it’s making my vision blurry, my moods all over the place, my blood pressure high and a host of other issues. I just want to be normal again. I just want to stop bleeding and feel good.
Pray for me. Keep me in your thoughts. I’ll be here on the couch for the next 6-8 weeks recovering with limited mobility. Apparently having your baby maker removed is a big deal. Pray for the Big Guy, he will be playing the role of Mr.Mom as I won’t be able to drive for at least 3 weeks. I need a mommy meal on wheels and a maid, STAT.