“Now, just undress for me from the waist down, please.”

I looked over at the uninviting, cold and scratchy looking sterile table – and shuttered.  How did I get myself in this predicament?  Oh ya, I’ve had five babies – all of which had made their mark on my once young and flawless body.  When I say flawless, I’m pretty serious.  Of course, I had random things I was worried about like any young girl, but overall I was pretty satisfied. Maybe that’s because we are all more content with the body we used to have, in hindsight.

I looked over at Jon, and rolled my eyes.  He is always so supportive, right there, even when I don’t feel like seeing anyone.  He is the busiest person I know.  He runs multiple companies, many hundreds of employees, heads a family, and still makes time to sit in the wooden chair and stare at me as I undress for the O.B.G.Y.N. while making sexy jokes.   He is a keeper, he always has been.

They left the room, and I undressed as they asked.  I always wonder if I should fold my underwear up nicely inside of my clothes, or just hide it all in my purse.  I looked over at Jon, and he held out his hands – obviously having been through this before with me.  We have had five children together, we know the drill.  Why can’t he be the one on the table?  I promise, I’d be supportive and hold his underwear just as good as he can.

The doctor came in, and let me know all of my options, even though  I had pretty much already made up my mind.  I wanted a hysterectomy.  And, while they were at it, it wanted to fix my bladder.  Don’t we all, after giving birth?  We cough, and pee.  We sneeze, and pee.  We laugh, and pee.  And don’t even try to talk to me about jumping on the trampoline or running through a haunted house without having to wear depends!  Over the past several years, I have been struggling with hormone imbalance for whatever reason – that caused a major amount of blood loss during my cycle, and led to severe anemia.  I haven’t been able to go anywhere most of the summer, because of this.  I have been SO tired, barley making it up the stairs, without gasping for air.  I was dizzy when I drove the car, and felt pounding in my head, so bad it felt like Mario was beating me to a pulp with his rubber mallet. 

“Please lay back, and let us check a few things.  We need to make sure you don’t have cervical cancer, before we just go ahead with the hysterectomy.  Also, we will need to do a bladder test to assure that our surgery will help you out.” I glanced over at Jon and rolled my eyes, once again.  He knew why I was making faces.  It was because the doctor was my age.  MY AGE!  When I was young, doctors were Grandpas.  Then gradually, they turned into something like me dads age.  Since when, did they end up being young enough to have gone to school with me?  Laying back and spreading my legs all of a sudden got a lot more personal.  Shouldn’t this guy wait about 20 years until he is old enough to have experience? 

“Here is a sample of the pill, so you can stop bleeding.  Your iron has dropped down to a 6.8 and we can’t have it get any lower.”   I asked him if that was bad, and he just looked at the nurses.  “Yes, it is very low.  We have given blood transfusions for much higher than this number.”  The doctor was very nice to take the time to answer all of our questions, and share the risks as well as the benefits of each surgery.  

So, we set a date that would be  coming up in only a few weeks.  I came home, and immediately began taking the pill and started gaining weight – the same thing that happened a year before. At this point, I was desperate.  I felt like the life was draining out of me each day, and indeed it was.  I spent the next few weeks getting the kids ready for school, and finishing helping plan a gala for Thanksgiving Point’s new children’s museum.  Soon enough, it was time.  They kids went back to school, and my surgery was only days away.

My sis and I

*if you’re wondering why I am sharing this with you, it’s because my sister said I should because they’re aren’t a lot of old bloggers.  ok, she didn’t exactly say that, but that’s the truth.  I don’t necessarily find stories of hysterectomies interesting, but it is something a lot of women go though, and I wish I would have had it to read before my surgery – so here we go 🙂 *