“I want whatever option means I am never going to have a period again.”
I laughed when I said it because it meant I was admitting my complete ignorance about which part of my body actually caused me to have a period.
Is it the uterus, or is it the ovaries?
Is it both?
Can you take everything?
All I know is that whichever part made me bleed every single month was the part that I wanted taken out of my body.
And I knew that this was my moment to speak up and say something.
They had told me way back at the beginning that I would be going on an estrogen blocker to stop the cancer from coming back.
And then they told me that because of my age it would increase my risk of some other type of cancer.
(Cervical I had thought. Turned out to be ovarian.)
So they had to take out my ovaries.
A friend had told me that if they only took my ovaries I would still have a period every month and that I needed to have my uterus taken out to not have a period any more.
That’s incorrect it turns out.
I hadn’t looked any further into it at the moment because… I don’t know why.
She had seemed like she knew what she was talking about, I guess.
And I had a lot of other information being thrown at me. Learning that I was going to have my ovaries or uterus taken along with everything else was just a piece of the puzzle and in that moment a small one.
So I didn’t think any more of it.
Until I was sitting on the phone with my OBGYN that had delivered my first and third babies and was saying, “take whichever one makes me have a period”.
Because dammit if I was going to go through all this shit and come out the other side still having to bleed every month.
Fuck that.
I had no interest in that bullshit.
Absolutely not.
Understanding What Surgical Menopause Actually Meant
Luckily, as it turns out, taking my ovaries would accomplish what I wanted. The uterus is where the actual bleeding happens, but the ovaries drive the hormonal cycle behind it. No ovaries meant surgical menopause. And surgical menopause meant no more periods.
And they were going to be removing them.
I felt a sense of relief in that if I am honest. Not in the menopause that would come along with it. I hadn’t really given that part much thought at the time.
But not having a period ever again sounded like bliss.
And bliss was something that I was ready for.
“Can you do it at the same time as my mastectomy?” was my next question.
I wanted to be under the knife as few times as possible in all of this.
I had already been through the ringer with other treatments and it doesn’t hurt to ask the question.
So I did.
He explained that normally they do them as separate procedures because they want to keep you under anaesthesia for as little time as possible.
But because of my stellar health markers and active lifestyle, he would discuss it with the surgeon doing my mastectomy and see what they could do.
Thank goodness for that.
The Comfort of Having a Doctor Who Knows Me
It helped that I have known my OBGYN for most of my adult life.
I think it made it easier to ask the questions.
I think it took part of the fear and anxiety out of the equation because I already had a level of trust with him.
He said that when his assistant asked if he wanted someone else to take my case he said, “ABSOLUTELY NOT” and snatched the folder from her hands.
We’ve been through it together for nearly 20 years.
He has known me through 6 pregnancies, 7 babies.
He has known me through raising 3 kids.
Through postpartum treatment for all of them.
Through too many pap smears to count.
He knows me.
And I am so grateful that he was the one who got to see me through the end of my baby making days.
Saying Goodbye to My Baby-Making Years
Having babies was not a small part of my life. For nearly a decade I carried babies for my own family and for others. I brought life into this world. I went through the hard labor that is growing humans and the literal labor that is birthing them.
Every ounce of my being poured into that time of my life.
And when that chapter ended I cried a lot of tears.
Tears of sadness because I loved it.
I loved the feeling of a baby moving inside my body. I loved getting to watch people become parents and hold their babies for the first time. I loved getting to participate in their excitement through the process.
While they planned and organized and got ready as best they could.
Because you are never really ready for the moment that someone hands you a tiny person and says “keep this alive”.
But as I sit here writing this I realize that I cried tears of sadness because I would miss the joy that I was able to participate in.
And it doesn’t go away.
It just changes.
It’s the same feeling I get when I look at my own kids and see that they have grown. I miss the tinier versions of them so much. I cry tears of sadness that I will never get to hold them like I did when they were so little.
But the feeling is actually overwhelming joy.
Joy that I got to love someone so completely that my heart aches for that version of them.
Growing, birthing, and caring for tiny people was a huge part of my life for a lot of years.
A part of my life that I am so glad that I got to experience.
And a part that I am so glad is over.
Making babies is hard work.
Getting ready to make babies every month?
The worst.
And I wanted it to be done and over with at that moment.
So I asked for it.
“Uterus, Ovaries, whatever you have to take out, I want it gone.” I said.
He just laughed, because he knows me and he knows what I am asking for.
And then we figured out what we could actually do.
Trusting My Surgical Team
We talked through the rest of the plan.
He was going to talk with my other surgeon and we would see what would happen.
On the day of my surgery I showed up to the hospital feeling way more calm that I had any right to be.
But something about knowing that he was there helped.
And then I got there and my anaesthesiologist from my knee surgery was there for me too!
And he is a HOOT!
And I adore the surgeon that did my mastectomy.
The whole team made me feel calm.
I felt horrified at the idea of what was going to be on the other side.
But I had a team of people that I trusted had my best interest at heart and would take good care of me.
I talked about what I wanted honestly leading up to the day.
And I was ready to be done with this fucking period FOREVER.
Turns out, after having my ovaries removed, I bled like I was on my period for a while.
So it felt like one last hoorah to it.
And then it was finally over.
Done.
Complete.
Period free is the way to be.