The Tortures of my Uterus

Now that we are getting into our Adoption Journey, I can catch you up on what’s going on with my health.

As a WARNING – some of this can be a bit graphic so if you are squeamish you may want to skip around.

At the time of applying with our agency to adopt, I had only been diagnosed with PCOS and the thyroid conditions.

I was already overweight though. I always have been. Its genetic, its emotional, its environmental. I’ve never known a life different.

Before our wedding, I had lost over 50 pounds with the help of the points system program. Mr. Lucky even did it with me leading up to the wedding.

After fertility treatments, and the emotional roller coaster that took us on, I gave myself an excuse to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and the weight slowly crept back on. I was approximately 30 pounds heavier before starting IVF, and after IVF 50 pounds heavier – so I was back to where I started before we got married.

After the IVF failed, I didn’t bleed for several months. It was approximately May or so of 2009 when I started bleeding, and it was horrendous. I had NEVER gushed blood the way I was. I had never experienced the clotting that was being purged from my body. I expected “my normal (far from normal normal)” period of three weeks. After all, before fertility treatments I could go a year without bleeding, and then bleed three weeks, and then I was done for another year or so.

The bleeding didn’t really stop, so I tried hormones to stop it at my ob/gyn’s advice. It didn’t work. Nothing they gave me would stop the bleeding. Sometimes the hormones would work for a couple of weeks, and then the faucet turned back on.

After our daughter was born, our hearts were so full with joy that we were ok going back on birth control for a short period of time to stop the bleeding. Well, that didn’t stop it either.

Just so you can get a clear picture of how bad things were, I would bleed through a pad in 30 minutes, and when I stood up it would gush so I could feel it pouring out. Often, I would bleed through my pad, panties and pants. I have had to stop to buy several pairs of new pants because of this. I ran to the bathroom every 20 minutes to change supplies, and I tried to enjoy every waking moment with our daughter. The pain that went along with it, was sometimes excruciating.

One day, I was in so much pain I could hardly stand it. I had already been in the ER once, and I knew they would do nothing for me. I spent the day on the couch lounging with my little girl, and trying to keep her happy and occupied. That night, I was experiencing the worst cramping sensation ever. I would try to go to the bathroom, and it didn’t help. My last resort was a hot bath. I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t stand it. I called my mom crying after the shower because I knew I needed to go to the ER again, but I was afraid that they would send me home saying the SAME thing, but I knew something was wrong with the way I was feeling. It was pain like nothing else.

I frantically tried to reach Mr. Lucky, and a friend of mine to come over and watch the baby until he came home for her. I couldn’t reach either of them, and I almost called an ambulance. Thankfully I was able to finally reach my friend and she and her boyfriend came right over. She stayed with Lucky Charm, and he drove me to the hospital. He kept asking me if I was ok, and I was. The pain had finally subsided, but it had been so bad I still needed to get checked out.

After checking in at the ER, I was called back into triage before I could even take a seat in the waiting room. As I was walking with the nurse, I felt something coming out of my body, I told her in a panicked voice that something was coming out of me right now and I needed to get to a bathroom. She asked if it could wait. SERIOUSLY?! I am telling you something is coming out of my body and you want me to wait?! I told her no, that something was really wrong, and I started crying.

When she let me in the restroom, I didn’t lock the door because I was afraid of what would happen if I did. I could feel my body contracting and continuously purging matter into my pants. Disgusting, I know. But it was seriously HORRIFYING. What fell out of my pants when I made it to the toilet was even worse. I had lost so much tissue on the floor of the bathroom (it all just fell out) that I started crying hysterically and hyperventilating. More was coming out into the toilet. There was blood everywhere. My pants were SOAKED. There was matter the size of a football (if you combined it all) on the floor of the restroom. During my hysteria the nurse was asking if I was ok through the door, and I kept saying no. She opened the door and the look on her face was of horror. She couldn’t believe her eyes either. She reassured me that if we could get me cleaned up, they would come clean up the restroom. I was hoping that they were going to take some of the matter for testing, but they didn’t.

She brought me back into the triage room, and afterwards asked me if I was ok waiting in the waiting room for a room, and I broke down crying again. I was literally so soaked in blood that she had to lay down sheets on the chair to soak it up. NO I wasn’t ok with that. So she had someone get a wheelchair and get me into a room right away. When I explained the situation to the physician it was as if he didn’t believe me and thought I was exaggerating. I thought surely the nurse told him, or someone how bad it REALLY was. I should have taken photos. I was horrified though. I was scared and alone, and I thought I was DYING. After pain meds, an exam, and an ultrasound, they determined again, there was nothing they could do for me but manage my pain, and that it was all hormonal and I’d need to see my doctor. So I did.

Mr. Lucky managed to get out of work in time to pick me up AFTER I had been discharged. I was furious with him for not getting there sooner. It was the worst experience of my life going through that, and being there alone.

At my follow up it was determined that my next step would be a D&C. The ultrasound in the ER noted that I still had significant levels of endometrium built up, but it wasn’t anything “awful” according to whatever standards they use. This was my first surgery, and I was nervous. It was long, painful and awful, but it was worth it. The doctor had estimated a 15-20 minute procedure, but there was so much tissue to remove that it took almost an hour. After the D&C my bleeding stopped for a good portion of time, which I was grateful for. I was going to focus on getting my weight down, and try to control my cycles (using progesterone therapy to induce a bleed on a regular basis so it wouldn’t get out of control).

When I met with my doctor for a post-op visit she informed me that I woke up two or three times (I can’t remember now) during the surgery and she was sure I remembered it. I told her I had no idea. It explained why I had such a sore throat afterwards, I must have tried to pull out my breathing tube.

She also said that she left the room feeling 100% sure that my biopsy results were going to reveal cancer, because she had seen cancerous tissue before, and mine was worse. My biopsy results however, were clear, and she was amazed, but happy to report this news.

Most amazing of all, every doctor that I saw was always amazed that I was never anemic with all of the blood I was constantly losing. My hemoglobin was always fine.



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