I’m having a hysterectomy at 24. A hysterectomy at 24 and, it was my choice.
Yes you read that right, it was my choice—I asked the doctor for this.
As you know, I was officially diagnosed with endometriosis in April 2021 when I had my first laparoscopic surgery. Now, an endo diagnosis does not necessarily mean you cannot conceive children of your own, it just means it can be a lot harder—about 1 in 3 people with Endo have problems conceiving.
However, I’ve known I was not going to birth children since I was 14 years old, when I got diagnosed with Lyme.
It has been proven that Lyme disease can be passed from the mother to a fetus in utero. This means that the child is born into this shitty world, already down a few points as they now have to live with this debilitating disease, and that’s not something I would wish on my worst enemy. I knew the second I heard that I could potentially get my future children sick that I would no longer have any future children. I knew I wasn’t strong enough—mentally, physically or financially—to put a child through this illness. There are many out there who are doing this and they are my heroes, it’s just not me.
I also knew that it can be hard for women with Lyme to not only conceive but carry the fetus to full term as the Lyme bacteria can disrupt the connective tissue leading to miscarriages—something I also knew I wasn’t mentally strong for. On top of all of this, a lot of women with Lyme see their symptoms come back with pregnancy as the stress on the body causes a relapse. When I got the official endo diagnosis, it finally sealed the deal that biological children are not in my future, and that’s okay.
Since my first endometriosis surgery, things have not been going well for me cyclically. I was okay for about 3 months after my surgery (if you don’t count the pelvic floor damage from the surgery) but in late august 2021, my bloat and pain came back 10x worse than before.
The way I describe this bloat is an extreme pressure, where, from my belly button down it feels like everything is on fire and being pulled downwards—it gets so bad that I have to wear a waist trainer just to hold my belly up so I can semi-function. And that’s how I have been for the last year, semi-functioning.
Don’t get me wrong, things have been happening in my life—I graduated college, got a big job and moved into my first apartment in the city—but I’m not actually living. Everything I do is dictated by my pain and my cycle.
I came off of birth control in October 2021 in hopes that this would maybe resolve some of my pain and that has brought on some new symptoms. The damage birth control had on my body is astounding and I have learned so much about the true menstrual cycle, hormones and the lies we (those who identify as women) have been told all our lives about our own bodies—but that’s a talk for another time.
The only silver-lining is that my extreme pain diminishes slightly when I’m actually on my period because the downward pull is just replaced with period cramps. You know you’ve been in chronic pain when you are relieved to have a different type of pain be your main issue for a bit.
The doctor who did my first surgery really messed me up and then I found out after the fact that he did an ablation not excision surgery—for endometriosis it is important to do an excision (cutting and removing the tissue) not ablation (burning the tissue) as this just leads to the tissue growing back at a faster rate (I compare it to the demigorgons from Stranger Things). This doctor has since retired.
So when my pain started back up last year, I sought out an Endometriosis specialist. Last I spoke to her, she said I had three options: 1. Go back on birth control, 2. Have another surgery or 3. Try to live with it. Well, since I was having issues on birth control, and having since witnessed the damage it had done to my body, I knew that wasn’t an option. It had also been less than a year since my first surgery at this time and my body hadn’t recovered still so I said I would try to live with it. It’s been 9 months and I’m not living.
Some days I wake up and I’m bloated before my feet hit the floor. So bloated that it hurts to bend over and put socks on or walk to the fridge. Sometimes I’ll feel great and exercise and the second I take off my leggings ba-bam the biggest bloat hits. I hate wearing anything other than my navy blue pajama pants (that were actually my grandmother’s) because everything else is too tight on my bloat or whoha and I’m just uncomfortable. I’m uncomfortable in my own skin. I don’t know what my body looks like without the bloat and pain and fatigue and that’s unacceptable to me.
A few weeks ago, I had a complete meltdown. Nothing seemed to be helping the pain. I was shelling out hundreds, if not over a thousand, dollars a month on medical treatments to try and bring me some relief and nothing helped. I finally called my mom and said it was time for the surgery and I told her I was going to ask for the hysterectomy too.
My family knows how I feel about having children and I’m so lucky that they have supported me in my choices, so she said she would go with me to fight for the hysterectomy too. But luckily, we didn’t have to fight. I told the doctor what I wanted, she asked how I got here, I explained just as I am to you now and she said “okay.” We danced around the room once she left.
I have been looking forward to this for a decade. The fear I have felt at the thought of someday accidentally getting pregnant and causing someone else the pain and suffering I have has plagued me for 10 years. The physical pain I have felt from my periods and Endo that I have begged to disappear will hopefully be gone. I won’t have to live in fear of bleeding through my clothes or sheets because I won’t have to worry about a period at all. I know people will think I’m crazy and “too young” but god, I’m fucking tired. I’m tired of having to live in pain and fear and not ever having control of my own life.
I’ve already had to hear some people's opinions on this choice too much and I’m tired of it already. Women are not meant to be on this earth to solely be mothers. Yes, that’s one of the many beautiful things about humans—we get to create new perfect humans (look at my niece and nephew)—but we also get to travel, and help people, and be athletes and models and warriors. Women are not defined by the fact that they can reproduce. Women are so much more than that. Society tends to look down and judge women who don’t, or can’t have children, and it’s about fucking time we stop that. I’m a woman who will never be pregnant or give birth, and that’s okay.
In the world we live in today, so many women are getting their choices taken away when it comes to their own health and lives and I know I am so lucky to be able to make this choice—as I hope
you see, it has not been one I made lightly. If you want to make sure women continue to get to make their own choices for their own bodies and loves, I urge you to donate to Focus Liberty—a nonprofit backing candidates who support reproductive rights in places where they are being attacked.
I know that this surgery may not cure all of my problems—I will still have to work on healing my hormones and there is always the chance that the endometriosis can return—but I am hopeful for the first time in a long time that I can actually start living my life, and that feels pretty good.
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