I wanted kids when I was younger. Three kids in fact. Three kids (boys), a husband, a couple of dogs with a white picket fenced house in Atlanta, Ga. Working at as a broadcast journalist for Headline News.
As I got older and ish got real, I re-evaluated my life goals. I instead had no kids of my own, a very independent and brash niece, a video gamer boo, a turtle, in a rental house in Indianapolis, IN. Working as a financial aid representative at a university and a PR babe on the side.
Yeah, all that threw me for a loop too.
I always told myself, if I didn’t have children by 32, I wouldn’t have kids. I didn’t want the risk of having a child at an older age. I didn’t want to be an old parent. My patience is wearing thin. I hate and have no tolerance for pain or childbirth. Baby mama daddy drama fills the air around me. So when my Ob-Gyn told me I would have to have a hysterectomy one would think it wouldn’t bother me so much…but it has.
I originally went to the doctor because for over a year I would get the flu around the time my aunt came to town. (Don’t act like you’ve never heard that expression.) Tired of being laid up for a week a month and draining all of my sick time, I went to my primary care physician who saw nothing wrong with me…except anemia. But also interested to see why I was in her office about once a month, she referred me to a specialist.
A vaginal ultrasound later I was told I had three fibroids; the two smaller ones (still hefty in size) were in the muscle of my uterus and the larger sitting on top of my uterus. All making my other organs and bodily functions very uncomfortable and cramp.
With the three visitors, my cheeky uterus has now tripled in size. I thought I looked three months preggers because of fat only. Yes, I gots some jelly in the belly, but there’s also some unwanted guest. Because the fibroids are almost destined to come back and I don’t plan on having any children (I’m not getting any younger), my doctor and I set up a plan to have a partial hysterectomy. Take the uterus and leave the ovaries…unless they’re unsalvageable once she starts snipping and poking.
Let’s talk a little about fibroids. Fibroids, according to the Mayo Clinic, are non-cancerous growths that can develop in and around the uterus. I had the symptoms, but I attributed them to getting older. You always here…your body changes as you age. Symptoms are heavy periods, extreme cramping, urge to urinate, painful sex, etc. They’re common especially in African American women. Don’t get all Web MD on me. If you have any of these symptoms talk to your doctor.
So my surgery is scheduled for September and I’m going nucking futs with emotion. I also have some other tinkerings down in the nether regions, but I think this post is too long already. From now until September, I’m trying to get ready spiritually, emotionally, physically and mentally to have these parasites removed.
I’m also kinda sad. As I said before, I had a timeline for children. It was my choice whether or not to conceive. Now that choice has been taken from me. I’m no longer the crazy aunt that didn’t want kids. I’m the crazy aunt that can’t have kids. ”
SSSSHHH…that’s Aunt Nelly, yeah she’s a cat lady cause she’s barren and couldn’t have kids” they’ll say as I throw cats at them like the Cat Lady in The Simpsons.
I feel a little broken. Not spiritually, but mentally and physically. Then there’s the general fear of the surgery itself and the recovery. That’s not counting taking time off from work, school and other obligations I have for four to eight weeks. I will talk about that foolishness next week.
Just be prepared a lot of my Wednesday post will be how I’m preparing positively myself for surgery.