By Kendra Holliday | July 30, 2012 at 6:50 am
I’m having my last period ever soon.
I’ve decided to get spayed, despite some well-meaning folks warning me my vagina will collapse and I’ll grow lots of body hair. I’m keeping my ovaries, but will have a complete hysterectomy, which means my uterus and cervix will be removed.
The surgery is set for September 6, right after Labor Day.
No more worrying about uterine or cervical cancer.
No more fear of pregnancy!
No more inconvenient bleeding every month.
And hopefully, no more scar tissue and pelvic pain!
I’m SO fortunate to have health insurance. I’ll have to pay $1500 and be out of commission for six weeks.
I wish some rich pro-lifer would offer to buy my uterus as a goodwill gesture ensuring I will never have an abortion again.
Consider my surgery a public science experiment. Will it ruin my sex life? Will I become incontinent for the rest of my life? Will I gain a bunch of weight? Will my nerves be damaged? Will my ass prolapse? These are all risks I have been told I might face if I have this surgery.
My partner is supportive. “Even without a uterus, you’ll still have a womb in my mind.” He’s already had his vasectomy, so we’ll both be off the reproductive market. Our kids will never have to worry about some oddly timed step-sibling coming along and crashing the party. We can continue to focus on them and ensure they have the best possible life given our limited resources.
I’m nervous, but looking forward to getting it over with. I imagine it will suck for a month, but be much better in the long-term. I’ve been dealing with pelvic pain for the past decade.
The doctor who will be doing the surgery seems like a very good choice. He’s a specialist and has performed many hysterectomies. It will be done via laparoscopy, which involves two or three small incisions instead of one big incision. Scarring will be minimal. He’ll bring my uterus out through my vagina, then stitch the end into a cuff. Supposedly, the only noticeable difference will be there won’t be anything in there to bump into anymore (cervix). We’ll meet with him one more time before the surgery to address any concerns and answer the many questions that keep popping up in my head. “You’ll be very pleased,” he assured me. I sure as hell hope so!
If anyone wants to schedule a sexytime date with me, you’ve got one month to make it happen! If all goes well, I should be back in the swing of things in October. We’ll have to celebrate!
In the meantime, I’m contemplating a going away party for my uterus. Someone suggested serving eggs and bloody marys. That just sounds so gross to me.
Hard to believe that incredible organ, the size of my fist, once carried my 7-lb-daughter to term. Our bodies sure are amazing.
I’ll keep you all posted. Wish me luck!