Wounded womb
It was July 2021, and I was in the middle of an intense workout when I felt a tearing sensation in my abdomen that put me in a panic. My immediate thought was “what did I break?” I ignored it but after a few weeks I knew it was time to get this checked out. Never having experienced anything like this, I figured it was a hernia - so to a general surgeon we went! I remember walking in not knowing what to expect and as I was being examined by this older gentlemen with a perplexed look on his face as he stated, “This is not a hernia, maybe you tore a muscle” But to be safe he requested that I schedule a MRI, which in fact is my worst nightmare.--As I am someone who can’t even wear a turtleneck for too long without feeling constricted, I couldn't imagine being in a tube for 45 minutes.
I scheduled my MRI and, of course, with my luck ended up getting sick with Covid. I had to push my MRI then push it again, fast forward to months later, when I had the luxury of lying in that tube for 45 minutes. I was sweating, nauseous, and seconds away from pressing the emergency button. The surgeon called me the following week to go over the results and it turns out the technician didn’t get the correct imaging but he still went on to say it was probably a torn muscle, let it heal on its own and get some rest. I ended the call with rage, confusion and my intuition clearly letting me know this was NOT a torn muscle as I now have a bulge sticking out from my lower abdomen and the only thing I was comfortable in was pants with an elastic waistband. I would avoid leaving my house because I was bloated 24/7, and it really got to my head. By November, I made an appointment with my GYN for her earliest availability after dealing with a lot of discomfort and pain.
After telling my doctor about the journey I endured to get there, I laid on the examining table as she pressed on my belly while simultaneously conducting a vaginal exam (10/10 do not recommend) . With confidence she said, this is a large fibroid and you’re going to need surgery. SURGERY? ME? SURGERY?! I could see in her face and hear in her tone that she felt sorry for me. I was scared but grateful that I finally had an answer. She explained to me that this is a pretty routine procedure and would likely just require small incisions around the bikini line. Unfortunately, this meant another MRI to be sure that’s all this was. She needed clear imaging to prepare for the proper surgery.
This second MRI was smooth sailing thanks to the Xanax she prescribed (honestly I would not have done well without it). I did what had to be done.
About two weeks later, my doctor requested we meet to go over my results. Her next availability was a Telehealth which is basically a zoom call, and boy was I happy that I was in the comfort of my own home for this. My doctor went through the imaging and described the fibroid as being 14 cm, it was pressing on my spine and there was some abnormality - now if you’re not familiar with what a fibroid is, it is basically a muscle growth and fibrous connective tissues around, on or in the uterus. In simple terms, a benign tumor. Except sometimes, it’s not. I was told there was a 17.5% chance that I had cancer and my fibroid needed to be removed in its entirety vs the pieces they would have removed robotically with small incisions. The reason for this was because they needed to prevent any cancer from spreading, if that was the case. She apologized and voiced how she knew this is not how I expected this call to go and neither did she.
When the call ended, I sat in awe thinking of how betrayed I felt by my body. It took some time to set in, I didn’t cry till I said the words out loud to my mom hours later. Of course, with anything you want to stay optimistic, but this? This was scary, and I felt deep in my heart that this could not be my story. The next step was to see an oncologist. As I sat in the waiting room, I couldn’t help but think about everyone else there. What were they there for? I felt such heaviness in my heart for these women. At this point I had completely disassociated myself from my body. I felt no connection or love for it. I had a hard time looking in the mirror, I stopped taking photos of myself. I was living on autopilot. I just wanted this thing out.
As the oncologist walked into the room, and went over why I was there, she mentioned all the possibilities. With the MRI clearly showing some abnormality the best option would be to have a biopsy that day to get confirmation before surgery. She went on to explain what the next step would be if the fibroid was in fact cancerous, a hysterectomy. I sat there, listened and once the words biopsy and hysterectomy were mentioned I felt like I was going to faint, I could feel my body becoming dead weight, and I looked as white as her coat. The thought of having my uterus removed was something I could not fathom. I would replay all the moments that brought me to this one, what did I do wrong? Was it my diet? Did I manifest this?. The doctor, realizing I was in complete distress, said if I wasn’t comfortable having a biopsy we would wait to test the tumor after surgery.
After leaving the oncologist office, I could feel an even greater shift away from my body. It was time to get my surgery scheduled, and this was the first time I had ever had surgery, so I was freaking out. The thought of being under for hours with my uterus exposed for the world (operating room) to see freaked me out. I knew this surgery required a c-section cut, so I was also worried What would recovery be like? Am I going to have a huge scar? This should have been the least of my worries - I know but at the moment I wasn't me and this was all valid given that I would have a new body after this, a scarred body, and I felt a scarred heart. I was really going through the motions of what it meant to possibly have cancer. I told about three people and even that felt like too much for me, I don’t like giving people my stuff to carry, but I knew the importance of not keeping them in the dark and I couldn't do this without them.
My surgery came quickly after a couple of reschedules, I ended up having four days to mentally prepare myself for the 2/22/22 date. Spirit is funny and loud - I was shook. The morning of my surgery felt like an out of body experience. I walked into the OR and examined every inch of the room. As I laid on the table, I asked my spirit team to keep me safe.
I woke up four hours later in agony. LISTEN, I commend all women who have had to give birth through C-section, because wow. I was in so much pain, but it was out and I still had my uterus. Bless! I stood in the hospital overnight and slowly made my way home the next day. I remember looking at myself in the mirror for the first time and not recognizing the person looking back at me. I knew this would be a journey.
Unfortunately, this story doesn't end here. I ended up back in the hospital 4 days post-op after hours of vomiting due to a bowel obstruction. I had a WHY ME? Moment again. My body was betraying me once again, it was fighting the healing process. After 14 hours in the ER, I was admitted and after four hours in my room the only option was to get an NG tube. I didn’t eat or drink anything for five days, and I was in a really deep depressive state. I cried and cried from the discomfort and I couldn’t believe what was happening. My support system, and doctors, checked on me multiple times a day but on about day three, I was given the news… I didn’t have cancer. A natural reaction would be joyous and relief, but I let out a slight smile. Every night I would ask my spirit team, why is this happening? What is the message? And I got nothing.
Once the tube was removed I gradually started to eat again, when I was finally able to go home I didn’t know what to do next. I didn’t want to make any mistakes, so I ate lightly as that’s all I could do. I lost 15 pounds in 9 days, I was fragile and my incision was still healing.
The healing process felt like it happened quickly but the lesson is ongoing. After weeks of reflection, I realized I had not been connected to my body for years, had I been maybe I would have noticed what was going on sooner, but I stopped blaming myself. I now think about what I can do to change my connection with my body in all ways. Aside from my heart, my womb is the source of all that is good, but I had never thanked it for what it has done, what it had shown me and, most of all, how strong she is. I have learned to honor her, keep her safe, and allow her to flow and lead.
After a major abdominal surgery, we are left without any direction on what to do next, how to help the healing process or something as simple as how to get out of bed without causing any harm to yourself. This is something I want to bring awareness to. We are told how to “fix” things but not prevent them and once they are fixed we are left to figure the rest out on our own. Between 20 and 70 percent of women develop fibroids during their reproductive years, and this is not openly spoken about or checked for during an annual GYN appointment and to my surprise your only options according to a doctor are to live with it or have surgery. This in no way shape or form is me down playing the power of western medicine - I love my doctor! This is about seeking answers to something in more than one way.
This scare and experience has quite literally pushed me to have a deeper understanding and connection to my body. What I put in it, how I treat it, how often I check in with it, etc. It has also shown me the importance of trusting my intuition and advocating for myself. If something doesn't feel right, speak up. If you don’t feel like you’re getting answers, get advice from someone else. Keep searching. Continue to honor your space, honor your body and always treat it with kindness. Most of the answers we seek live within us and it all begins with trust.
My womb may be wounded but it is resilient and continues to birth my greatest creations.