For some reason it’s >weird< to talk about women’s health and anatomy so publicly. But, like, why? A uterus affects women from tweens to menopause, at least once a month. It’s not weird to talk about getting your appendix removed and your appendix is completely useless and most people don’t even think about them. Why wouldn’t we talk about a major organ that affects our lives constantly?
When I was preparing for my surgery I took great comfort in the blog posts of other women who had hysterectomies. I had a lot of people asking different questions about the process, so honestly if sharing my experience helps one single person it’s worth it.
So here goes. Here’s my whole *journey* to and through a hysterectomy, including answers to questions people submitted through my Instagram stories.
Partial vs. Total Hysterectomy
From my understanding, a total hysterectomy is removing all the kibble and bits—uterus, cervix, tubes, and ovaries. It’s recommended when you have pre-cancerous or already cancerous cells or growths, or for women in menopause. A partial hysterectomy (which I had) is where they take your uterus but leave some combination of your cervix, tubes, and one or both ovaries.
Leaving your ovaries is preferred, because their hormone production is important for normal functioning. Menopause and its symptoms are caused by the ovaries “going out of business,” so that’s why people associate hysterectomy with going into menopause. If they take your ovaries then you aren’t getting the hormones you need. In the case of total hysterectomy you have to do hormone therapy. But another cool thing I learned was that leaving one ovary doesn’t decrease the hormones by 50%. Having one ovary is basically as good as having two.
I had a cyst on one ovary, but it wasn’t scary so they were able to leave both ovaries, meaning I shouldn’t crash into menopause until I’m 50 or whatever. They took my tubes and cervix too. So my ovaries are just floating in there, sewn to adjacent organs or ligaments or whatever, and they release eggs into my body where they just dissolve. My vaginal canal is just sewn closed at the top where it used to meet the cervix? Or something like that. This has been your layman’s explanation of a complex medical procedure.
My Cursed Uterus History
About a third of the questions were about how long I’d had issues. The answer is the moment my reproductive system woke up. When I was 12 I started menstruating, nbd. It was a few years before I realized that most of my friends had 3-4 day periods (mine was 6 full days) and none of them used super tampons. By 16 I was hella anemic, iron deficient, pale, exhausted, with brittle hair and nails, and was addicted to constantly crunching wintergreen lifesavers, so I got on birth control pills to try to mitigate my heavy periods. It helped.
When I got married I knew 2 things: 1. I wanted to marry Ryan and 2. I did not want to get pregnant. So I got the birth control implant in my arm. I stayed on the birth control pills for my bleeding and for the most part it was ok. When I got pregnant with Reese I think it was the longest I’ve ever gone without bleeding. I went back to heavy and irregular periods after birthing her, and then had subchorionic hemorrhages with both Malone and Stevie, meaning I bled on and off from the 10th week until birth.
I don’t know what happened with Stevie, though, because I never really stopped bleeding. I got another implant. My cervix yeeted my IUD. I tried two kinds of birth control. I did a month on Progesterone and seriously you guys I thought it was going to kill me. Since age 16 I’ve been on birth control and experienced every possible side effect. And this time I got them all at once. I was exhausted. I was bloated. I experienced deep depression and anxiety. I put on 10 pounds out of nowhere. I had no energy, no strength, no hope. I was (TMI) raw and uncomfortable from constant tampons, but they were a necessary constant. I think there were maybe 14-20 days that I didn’t bleed in the 7 months after having Stevie.
Why hysterectomy? How did you decide to do it?
It may seem like an extreme choice—and it is. It’s a permanent, major surgery. In this case it’s elective. And I’m only 31. A bunch of people asked if we tried other things and ruled out stuff like thyroid or cysts. Short answer: yes.
My thyroid is a factor. I’ve had hypothyroidism since after Reese so I take thyroid medication and get it checked regularly. I’ve tried every suggested method of birth control for extreme bleeding and they just weren’t effective.
My original gynecologist (who birthed all three girls and knows my whole bloody history) gave me two options—try another round of progesterone (I’d rather die) or a uterine ablation. Uterine ablation is where they go in and burn the lining of your uterus so that it doesn’t build and shed monthly. This is usually coupled with getting your tubes tied.
Here’s why I decided that instead I’d talk to another doctor and pursue a hysterectomy.
- Some women still bleed after ablation. I’d be one of those; I just know it. I’m lucky like that.
- I am not interested in trying ANOTHER thing just to determine that in 6 weeks it doesn’t work either.
- We hit our deductible with Stevie so #math
- I was worried coronavirus would shut down elective procedures again and I might just have to wait for the second coming.
- I have a family history of lady parts cancers.
- Hysterectomy had actually been on the brain since I had Stevie. I felt very prompted.
- We had no answers. There was no explanation to why this was happening, so no way to effectively stop it except to make it impossible in the first place.
- I was just so. damn. tired.
My second doctor was so compassionate and understanding and immediately set up the things we needed to get the ball rolling on a hysterectomy.
The Procedure
We got a biopsy and ultrasound of my whole pelvic region first. If they saw anything sketchy then they would decide to take more than just my uterus, and probably have an oncologist perform the surgery. I had to go get a COVID test 3 days before the surgery and quarantine between. I had to do a blood test the day before so they knew my blood type and iron levels and stuff.
I went in early Tuesday morning and had to strip down and wash myself with these weird pre-surgical rags. They got baselines for all my vitals and got my IV ready. I chatted with the anesthesiologist briefly. The last thing I remember is being wheeled into the OR lol.
The surgery took about an hour and a half. They were able to do a laproscopy, which is three tiny incisions where they go in, cut and sew, and then close up. I have one through my belly button and two low on my abdomen between my hip bones. Then they pulled the uterus, cervix, and tubes out through my vagina. If they needed to remove ovaries or had any other issues they would have cut a slice across my abdomen to remove stuff, a lot like a c-section. Apparently recovery for that is a lot worse.
Next thing I knew I was waking up in my hospital room, super groggy but with no pain! I had a 24 hour mandatory stay and ended up coming home the next afternoon.
How did you know you were done having kids? Was the plan always 3 kids?
Far and away this was the most asked question in my mentions. One of my best friends had a really cool experience when she had her third (and she thought final) baby. As she held her newborn and that veil was so thin she was distinctly told “Nope there’s one more.” I’ve always loved that. I wanted that. I love being told exactly what to do. The exact right thing. I always kind of thought/hoped that would happen for me.
To be honest I would have loved one or two more, but not if it was like this. Loney’s pregnancy was tougher than Reese’s, and Stevie’s was exponentially worse. Ryan wasn’t even ready for the third pregnancy, which made it even harder. The plan was never a certain number of kids, and in an ideal world where my pregnancies didn’t have me limping and bleeding and then hemorrhaging until my next pregnancy I would do one or two more. If I had normal pregnancies, normal bleeding, and Ryan was open to it, I would do one or two more. But that’s just not the case.
I was talking to Ryan about wishing I knew if we were done or not (which he was firmly in the DONE camp), he was like “Danica… don’t you think this could be the sign you’re looking for?” At that point I’d been bleeding through birth control pills and was completely depleted.
Oh.
Yeah. Probably.
I don’t think God caused my uterus to completely explode, or anything. I just think it was really clear that my uterus wasn’t in a good place and that it wasn’t really responsible to have more kids when I couldn’t be a human person mom for them. So it really wasn’t a hard decision or one that I’ve spent much time worrying about.
Family history of cancer
My maternal grandmother died of ovarian cancer. My biopsies and scans and BRCA test all came back negative, which is really good, but doesn’t mean I’m 100% safe. My doctor said it’s probably a good idea to go back in and scoop out those ovaries once menopause hits and they aren’t doing their hormone jobs. At that point they’re just “another vehicle for cancer.”
What was recovery like? Side effects?
The first side effect I had was itchiness, which is pretty standard with anesthesia I guess. I could not stop scratching every inch of my body. I had a little bit of nausea with the pain medication but it was worth it because I seriously didn’t hurt at all.
I was really tired for the first couple of days, but it didn’t really hurt. The biggest side effect I had was gastrointestinal issues – constipation and upset stomach. It was worse when I took my medicine without a totally full stomach. I had some residual bleeding for like 2 days and then it MIRACULOUSLY STOPPED FOR GOOD.
By like day 4 or 5 I didn’t even take my meds anymore, except for stool softeners. I had a little tenderness, but it didn’t hurt. There was one day I overdid it by walking Reese to school and I was a little sore and exhausted and sick for the next day.
But straight up I have felt AMAZING. I rested for the first couple of days, trying to stay in bed or on the couch, but after that I was up and around. I’m not supposed to do any vigorous activity or lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk until I’m cleared at my 6 week appointment. SPOILER ALERT: Stevie is more than a gallon of milk so I’ve been lifting her a little bit, but I’m being careful. Ryan does the stairs, carseats, and anything that would require abdominal twisting.
Do you feel a sense of loss?
When I read other women’s experiences about hysterectomy there was a lot of grief. It would be devastating to have that decision required of you, especially if you wanted more children. A lot of the blog posts talked about this profound sense of loss, even when it was the right decision.
That has not been my experience. The loss I feel, and what I grieve, is 2020 and the life I missed out on. Every time I turned down an invitation to the splash pad. Every time I had to recuperate for three days because I had the audacity to go to the gym. I feel a sense of loss of the last year and half or so when I wasn’t able to fully show up for my kids, my husband, my friends, myself. I guess I feel a little bit of grief that I couldn’t be that super fit, super fun, super energetic and healthy mom with 4-5 cute kids. But the hysterectomy isn’t what took that from me.
The way I see it, the hysterectomy gave me my life back. The other day I started crying to Ryan because I’d been hustling around doing projects all day, up and down stairs, and I was so excited about doing a million things. It made me cry because that is so quintessentially Danica. But I haven’t been her for, like, ever.
I don’t feel a sense of loss. I feel a sense of possibility and optimism about my future. One where I can exercise and not have to rest for two days. One where I can take my kids to the splash pad, even when it’s hot (especially when it’s hot). One where I can wear normal underwear and don’t have to stress about having enough tampons. One where I don’t need 10 hours of sleep a day. One where I am ok.
I hope that in one month when I have my 6 week exam I can happily report back that everything is healed and I can return to totally normal life. But as of now I can say 5 stars, 10/10 would recommend.
