First, the details: I had gone back and forth about keeping my cervix. I had been pretty confident I didn’t want to, but after talking with my surgeon and fiance at length I decided to keep it for fear of pelvic floor issues, or incontinence (I am, after all, the woman who laughs hard enough to occasionally, when drinking, literally wet her pants laughing).
It started late yesterday. The bleeding. Not a lot, but enough I wasn’t happy. By bedtime, I knew I needed the dreaded tampon. The item I thought I was never going to use again in my lifetime.
This morning, I sat up with that sick feeling, and sure as hell, I had bled through my tampon overnight, and totally wrecked a pair of underwear. I cried hysterically in the shower this morning, watching blood and tissue go down the drain. I dug out another super plus tampon (when you’ve been as sick with periods as I’ve been for as long as I’ve been, even though you think you’ve gotten rid of all your period-necessities, you haven’t – there’s always tampons somewhere in your home: a suitcase, a purse you aren’t currently using, the back of a bathroom drawer).
And I stood in the middle of the living room, sobbing, telling my fiance why I couldn’t stop crying.
Because when I had my period before, it was every single day. Sometimes for weeks and weeks non-stop. I have been known to bleed, every day, for more than six weeks at a go. Now, when I had my full blown period I could go through a super plus tampon in 45 minutes. My fiance was trying to calm me and remind me it’s only been a month, and that wouldn’t one tampon a day be better than 20, and I just couldn’t get him to see that THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANTED OR EXPECTED.
I want to be DONE with this. I cannot wake up bleeding anymore. I cannot live my life around tampons and ruined underwear. I had this fucking surgery to prevent living like this, and here I am, LIVING LIKE THIS and I don’t even have a fucking uterus anymore.
Was it my cervix causing me problems all along? What the fuck?! I’m so incredibly heartbroken I have not stopped crying. I cried all the way to work. I cried at the post office. I’m pretty much ready to take a blowtorch to my lady bits and destroy my cervix myself at this point.
I have a call in to the doctor, and that’s all I can do. Because a blow torch isn’t really an option yet, just a fantasy. (SCRATCH THAT: I was trying to dial, a couple of times, but cannot stop crying long enough to talk to anyone so I keep hanging up. Wish me luck.)
But I cannot spend another fucking month of my life, followed by another fucking month, of bleeding like this. This was supposed to be over.
