6 Things to NEVER Say to Someone Who Can't Have Kids

Number 1: "There are worst things that could happen."

There are. I lost my uterus. I could have lost my uterus and my life. I could have lost my uterus while skydiving, landing on on someone's campfire and getting 1st degree burns... it could be worse. I know that. However, right then, in that moment-- it feels pretty damn crappy.







Number 2: "Trust me, having more then one isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Or just a plain "having kids isn't that great." Says the person who has 2, 3, 4, or 5 kids. You had a choice. When I become a millionaire I'll make sure to tell you having buckets of cash isn't really that great.





Number 3: "Clearly God has another plan for you."

I'm sure you don't mean to be insensitive, but what your just told me is: "God doesn't want you to have children/ any more children. He doesn't care what you want. He thinks you should feel void and alone for ever."

Just lost your job? Have no idea how you're going to pay your mortgage? Clearly, God has another plan for you.



Number 4: "Well, at least you already have one child."

Having a child doesn't take away the pain away when you find out you can't have more. It doesn't mean that that child is loved or valued any less. There is a lot of emotions that come into play-- a lot of things you have to accept. The choice was taken from you and you have to re-envision the life you planned.

Number 5: "I know how you feel, I..."

Unless that sentence ends with, "can't conceive" or "lost my uterus", stop right there. Just stop. Would you go up to an amputee and say, "I know how you feel, I lost a hat once..."?



Number 6: "You should just adopt." OR "Well, use a surrogate."

The last time you conceived, was your ability to procreate based solely on the your bank account?
Surrogacy can cost upwards of $100,000 dollars. Adoption can be both financially and emotionally expensive. There is no "just" in either of those scenarios.

You want a new car? Well, just go get one.

263 Days

Dear Uterus,

It's been awhile since I've written-- 3 months in fact. 

I stopped writing because I was doing a little better. The things that I experienced were still painful, but they didn't consume me like they once had. 

Occasionally I'd think about writing something, but something else always came up and it just didn't happen.

So, let's do a quick recap. 

I had the hysterectomy on 06/06/2015.

5 Weeks later, I woke up and realized I was "leaking"

By the next day I realized it was Urine. (bleh!)

I went to two OBs and a Urologist. 

They decided I was incontinent and we had surgery to fix a bladder prolapse. (My bladder was falling into places it shouldn't be.)

Because I have amazing luck, my outpatient surgery on October 14th, 2015 turned into a 2 day hospital stay. A week later I took my catheter out and discovered that I was still "incontinent".

No one wants to be incontinent, but at 25, and after everything I had been through-- that was depressing. 

On February 2nd of 2016, I finally was able to see the Urologist again. I told him all my thoughts and he decided to perform a test to see if I had a fistula (a hole that forms between two things that shouldn't be there). The test was NOT COMFORTABLE. At first he didn't see anything and just when he was about to think of another test, the scope spotted what I knew was there all along.

I did have a fistula-- caused by yet another error from the OB who missed the holes in my uterus. 

On February 3rd I went in for a semi-emergent surgery. When I awoke they informed me I'd be staying a little longer because they had to go in through my abdomen to reach the issue.

I went home two days later with a new scar in place of the one from the hysterectomy, and a 14-day catheter. 

2 weeks later I took that sucker out--- and no more urine.

For the first time in 7 months I did not have to wear a diaper. Something that no 25 year old person should ever say. 

I'm still sore-- obviously-- but I feel better. I feel like finally, almost NINE months after my hysterectomy-- I'm done with it all.... or at least the physical side of things.

Today I spoke to another lawyer. 

I wanted a second opinion-- I wanted validation that I was choosing the right thing to let it go (legally, at least). Again I was told that I had a winning case. I was injured. The doctor did wrong. It was horrible. Again I was told that I fell into a gap. I didn't sustain anything so traumatic as to make me not walk or be unable to work, so I wouldn't even make back the money I spent winning the case--- by winning the case.

So-- physically, and legally I'm moving on. 

Emotionally-- it still stings. It's very much like a sunburn. It doesn't hurt me all the time, but occasionally something brushes against it and reminds me that it's there.

I need emotional aloe-vera. 

Love, Michelle

Nov. 18th-23rd: Days 166-171

Dear Uterus,

We are approaching C's six month birthday. That means we're also approaching 6 months since we separated.  Almost a half of a year has passed. How is that possible?

When I was in high school, I had the typical 'girl' thoughts. My best friend is skinnier. I'm soooo fat. I wished I had bigger boobs... you get the idea.

Still, I never hated my body.

I would look in the mirror and think, "Hey, I look good today. I'm pretty."

When I got pregnant with Cody I loved watching my belly grow and change. I felt beautiful. I was growing a person.

Cody gave me stretchmarks from Hell. I still felt beautiful. I earned those.

The twins lengthened those stretchmarks, and gave me a c-section scar. The scar didn't bother me too much. Few saw it, and I didn't care if they did. I earned those. I grew two people.

C gave me a 'new' scar. My old one was cut away, and a new one was in it's place. I had that scar for 6 days. For 6 days, I had another marker of something I did (albeit a slightly crappy and crooked one.. but a mark).

I still have the stretchmarks, but they're fading.

My skin is EVER SO SLOWLY shrinking back.

I don't have either c-section scar any more.

Instead I have the scar from the hysterectomy, and for the first time in my entire life. I didn't like what I saw when I looked in the mirror.

That sounds vain, doesn't it?

The hysterectomy scar is in the same place as the c-section ones. It's a little longer (almost 9 inches), and for a scar it's not horrible.

Yet instead of representing the babies I carried, it only represents everything I lost. I lost an organ. I lost the possibility of ever delivering another child.  That scar represents darkness.

So, a few nights ago I took a picture. Tonight I'll share it with you.

You didn't ask to see it, you could probably care less.  Still, I need to show you. I need to reach a point where I can look at it and say "I earned this. This is proof I survived." My first step is not hiding it.

I have yet another scar beneath it. In the center, about an inch and half down is a scar from my most recent surgery. Another reminder of something negative.

-Michelle

Nov. 4th-17th; Days 152-165

Dear Uterus,

I haven't felt the need to write in here for  two weeks.

The last few days I was starting to feel the urge and then life caught up with me.

I have piles of homework every week for college. I am looking and applying daily for jobs. I am working on craft orders. I'm being a mom. I'm also still healing.

In 5 month's I've had 3 fairly major surgeries.

I think I forget that my body is probably over it right now.

The latest surgery didn't work. Things are slightly better than before, but not by an amazing amount. I cannot describe how sucky that makes me feel. I still experience pain from the surgery and it's not like everything is all better so the pain is worth it.

I'm not sure what my next step will be. I won't let myself think that this is just my new reality. Still, financially we're stretched thin and I don't think I can afford any more surgeries or procedures in the near future.

In the past few days something has occurred to me. I don't feel like it's November, Mentally I'm still stuck in June.

I've went on a vacation, switched colleges, managed to get on the deans list, and I really have no idea how because I'm pretty sure I just coasted through all of it.

The last 5 and a half months were stolen from me.

Tonight in the shower I broke down crying and I had no idea why.

I got out, dried off and deactivated my Facebook.

I need a break from the babies and the pregnancy tests, but more than that I need a break from the people WHO DON'T GET IT.  I need a break from the people who are arguing over the most tricial of things and the only thing I can think of is: "Get over it, tomorrow it could end."

I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad way to think about things, but there it is.




I need a break from people complaining about being pregnant, and honestly, I need a break from Surrogacy.

Because right now my rose-colored glasses are off and I'm afraid I won't keep my mouth shut.

Hugs and Love.

Goodnight.

Oct. 29th- Nov. 3rd; Days 146-151

Dear Uterus,

It's a new month and I haven't written in about a week, so I figured I probably should.

I'm still recovering from surgery, and still in complete limbo on knowing whether or not it worked. I'm desperate to know one way or the other so I can either plan my next step or jump for joy.

I started off writing every day because I needed it. Eventually it went to every 2-3 days and now we're about once a week.

Tonight I needed to write.

Everyone is pregnant or having babies.. and I love it. I also hate it.

It's so confusing.

There are days when I want to block everyone that even mentions pregnancy, and days that I think all the pictures give me hope.

The only ones that don't bother me, are the surrogate pregnancies. Despite everything, I still love those. Yes, there is a twinge of pain when I see a bump, but I think I'm slowly growing used to the idea that I'll never be pregnant again.

I had three pregnancies, and I ROCKED them.

Surrogate pregnancies are easy because they don't take the baby home after.

I want to take a baby home. I want to experience that again. I feel cheated.

I am madly in love with Cody and every day he becomes a little more independent and needs me a little less. I want to hold on to him forever because I may not ever get the chance to hold on to another one.

I don't know how women deal with this for years. I can't even imagine dealing with it for another month.

-Michelle

October 22nd-28th; Days 139-145

Dear Urine Receptacle,

AHah! Did you notice what I did there?

I'm thinking that your  feeling unloved as the last 5 years of my life has been very uterine-centric. So this one is for you Bladder-face.

Please stop being a jerk.

In all seriousness-- later today is 2 weeks since the surgery. I was able to stop taking my heavy pain killers about a week after surgery. I was moving and sitting a lot better. In the past 3 or 4 days however, I'm hurting a lot. I'm guessing it's because it's all starting to heal, and maybe the internal stitches are breaking down a bit.

I took my catheter out (did I mention that last time) on the morning of the 19th. The next day I had my stitches out.

The next day I called the doctor back because my wonderful little "problem" was still there. They said not to be discouraged yet because I'm still healing. So I'm trying to think positive, but I can't help but thinking that every day it should get a little bit better if it's just because the bladder is healing, right?

I really wanted this all to be behind me so I can feel like I'm coming up on the more positive side of this entire thing, and it hasn't yet.

Help me out of this hole!

-Michelle

October 14th-21st; Days 131-138

Dear Uterus.

Yeah I know it's been awhile.

I had my surgery on the 14th, and as usual I managed to go screw it up.

My 2 hour surgery ended up being a 4 hour one. My outpatient procedure ended up being a 48 hour stay.

I love hospitals... so, so, much.

I researched the heck out of my c-sections. I talked to people who'd had them. I was prepared for the aftermath, and I understood the procedure as well as a non-doctor can.

This one-- there isn't a lot of people openly talking about bladder prolapses and randomly leaking urine. No one told me where the best place to buy depends was or what to expect when I woke up from surgery. I researched a bit, and understood some of the stuff, but even after the doctor talked to me I was completely clueless with what was really going to happen.

They went to do a cystocele (anterior) prolapse repair. This is, to my understanding, where they reposition the bladder up ansd away from the vaginal wall, where mine had falled into. Along with it, they put in a urethral sling, a small tension sling that holds the urethra up.

This is, on average, a two hour surgery. After the anterior prolapse was repaired they discovered I also had a significant rectocele (posterior) prolapse. So they fixed this as well. This, and the fact that I decided to bleed lots again, made it into the 4 hour surgery.

Before I went in, I was sitting in the sort of waiting area for non-emergent operations. I was in my own cubicle, but not on a bed, just a recliner with a tv and naked under a hospital gown. The nurse came in to talk to me and I we spoke about the anesthesia a little bit, the process, and etc. The one thing that had been terrifying me was the idea of going under again, I mentioned that to her-- even going as far as to ask if I could have a spinal instead. She told me she would talk to the anesthesiologist. A little while later, he came in, and he looked vaguely familiar, although I couldn't really place it.

He started asking me about my concerns and as I was telling him he stopped me and said "Now, when did this happen..?" I told him June. He said-- "You were the surrogate weren't you?" "Yes...?" "I was you anesthesiologist that day."

While the procedure was being done at a different hospital, he also worked with this one as well, and he remembered me.  We sat and chatted a little while. He told me his side of things, including a pirce of the puzzle I didn't find out. Apparently, he was struggling to keep me under as he normally would, whenever he would try, I would code-- so he had to use different methods. I'm not sure what they were and I didn't ask-- I was trying to process the fact that I had apparently come even closer to death than I thought-- I coded-- more than once.

HE said it sounded like I had a little PTSD after everything and told me he would make sure I had an anti-anxiety med before the anesthesia. That calmed me down a bit.

A little later he walked me down to the OR. I walked in, and climbed on the operating table myself. I laid back, and for a few seconds I was back in June, terrified and begging them  not to let me die. Then they talked to me. I can't remember what it was about but it was enough to get my mind off of everything as he put whatever juice into the IV that made me pretty much okay with everything. They told me they were starting the anesthesia and I breathed in and out slowly-- waiting for the moment where I couldn't breathe on my own and could feel my chest almost being paralyzed-- and it didn't come.

I woke up later that evening (the surgery started around 3ish) and was pretty out of it the rest of the night. I was in and out of consciousness, part from my awesome inability to wake up from anesthesia like a normal person, and partly because I was low on blood and for some reason had really low blood pressure.

The pain SUCKED. It reminded me of when I tore while delivering my son. Laying in bed hurt-- and the first time I tried to stand up I almost fell over from the pain. The next time I stood up I manged to walk into the bathroom and promptly passed out on the toilet.

I went home 2 days later with a catheter that I both got to keep in for 5 days, and also take out myself. Fun stuff.

After I took out the catheter I was super excited to be able to wear underwear again, and not a depends--- and then I started leaking. The verdict is currently out on whether it failed or if I just need some time to let my bladder settle a bit-- it has been through a lot in the past few months. The leaking isn't as bad as before, but it's still pretty bum-worthy.

Yesterday I had the abdominal sutures removed from where they had the scope placed. That was pretty easy.

Now I'm on pelvic rest and light duty for 6 weeks while I heal and the stitches dissolve. This cannot come fast enough because holy COW do they itch!!

Now that I'm not constantly on pain meds I can start writing again-- what with I can now form paragraphs and... well... words.

Talk to you tomorrow,

-Michelle