Susie G
How do I start writing about something that has had a profound impact on my life in a matter of hours since I decided to write just hours before the deadline. I decided to draft my story to get it down on paper from the perspective of the 68-year-old woman I am now. I let myself share about being childless not by choice yesterday at my Al-Anon meeting. I heard a story about a couple bringing their young adult daughter to college for her first year.
I shared about the lack of the ability of my parents to participate due to increasing difficulties at home when I first came to Boston for college. This led to me to talking about my inability to have my own children and circumstances in my life that did not lend themselves to me marrying a man who would be a great father for my child, which was one of my prerequisites. When I hear people talking about their kids, my grief is sparked even in a profound way. The grief of the loss continues through my aging process.
I was told by my primary care doctor in my 20s that my ultrasound showed I had an enormous benign fibroid tumor that he believed could not be removed, and that I needed a hysterectomy. There was no way I could deal with that at the time, so I put up with the horrendous pain and other symptoms I was having as long as I could, trying various medications to cope. It was not until my early 30s that I was encouraged by an acquaintance to go to a gynecological surgeon. I was experiencing so much pain, heavy bleeding and even flu-like symptoms that I would have to take a day off from work whenever I started to get my period.
I was referred to a gynecological surgeon who reviewed my ultrasounds and told me regardless of what was going on, I needed surgery. He said he could perform a myomectomy (removal of the fibroid tumor while preserving my uterus), and I began to feel some hope. I sought a second opinion with a surgeon who wanted to do all sorts of interventions first, like putting me on hormones that would shrink the tumor and have an MRI. Of the two doctors, I chose the one who assured me that I would not have a hysterectomy and that I should schedule the surgery within a few months and who did not require me to have hormone treatment or an MRI.
My mother and sister came to Boston for my surgery. I felt comforted by that. This was in May and my father was diagnosed with liver cancer. To make a long story short for the sake of the deadline of this article, the surgeon “broke scrub” to ask my mother and sister for permission to give me a hysterectomy since they discovered I had severe adenomyosis, like endometriosis, but with endometrial tissue growing within my uterus. He knew how much I didn’t want hysterectomy. What ended up happening was that they could not suture my uterus due to the deterioration of the tissue and I needed a blood transfusion. They could not save my uterus, fallopian tubes or cervix but thank goodness he saved my ovaries.
When I woke up, I asked my mother and sister how things went and they couldn’t really tell me much break it to me and told me the doctor would be coming in soon. I assumed the worst despite their protectiveness.
And for now, this is all I can recount about what led to my life of childlessness because what followed was both a life-long grieving process but also miraculous healing. This is the beginning of a series of stories, I imagine. And certainly, a first draft. I hope this little bit of my story will help someone.
