Due to some uncomfortable and alarming physical symptoms I started experiencing back in December of 2020, I was inspired to learn more about this issue I was having and was shocked to discover that it is SUPER common in the world of women’s reproductive health and yet I am 41 years old and had never heard anything about it. I’m talking about fibroids. If you know, you probably understand my irritation around the fact that we as women are not taught anything about these little assholes that effect so many of us. If you don’t know, listen up because it is very likely that they will effect you or someone you know in the future and you can spare them and yourself the months of worry and panic that I experienced.

So just to paint a more vivid picture of what it was that I experienced, I’ll start from the beginning of my little fibroid story. I have had a Mirena IUD for about seven years. It’s a hormonal IUD that has magical properties (progesterone) that basically stops your periods, for most women anyway. It was glorious!!! I always had fairly long periods, which sucked, so this was an amazing discovery and even during the years when I wasn’t getting any, I kept the IUD so that I could continue a period free existence. Everything seemed to be okay, but in November 2020 I had a period! Like a full on, week long period with cramps and everything. WTF?! I figured, “Okay, maybe it’s just a fluke.” Well December came and right on schedule, so did another period. Ugh! Nooooo! But here’s were it got a little scary… it didn’t stop after a week, or two weeks. Finally, after three weeks of full, heavy period, it reduced to just spotting. I was worried, but it was Christmas and I was in the last couple weeks of finishing my Teaching Credential Program and wrapping up my last semester of student teaching… I didn’t have time to deal with this.

The spotting lasted another two weeks and then my mother fucking period started up again! This was January 11, 2021. Now I was really worried. This is not normal. I called Planned Parenthood and made an appointment for the following week. I’ve seen the same doctor there for years and really like her. She said there were a few things it could be, so she wanted to start with an ultrasound so we could get a picture of everything and get to the bottom of it. She didn’t sound worried, so I was doing okay at this point, but I was exhausted from weeks of bleeding and cramping and all that. A couple weeks later I had the ultrasound, but the ultrasound techs don’t tell you a damn thing so I had to wait for the doc to call with the results. So from the time I called to make the first appointment to getting in to see the doc to discuss the results, I was going into five weeks of being on my period. And I don’t mean a friendly period. It was heavy, clotting, cramping. Burnin’ through the super tampons…

I was exhausted. I was worried. I just wanted to stop bleeding out of my damn vagina already… (yes, I said vagina. I’m a rebel). I get to my appointment and doc is totally calm. She said, “The IUD is fine, it’s fibroids.”

“Um, what?”

“Oh they’re really common and not life threatening, but there’s a few ways of dealing with them. Unfortunately, we don’t handle all that at this location so we need to send you to see the specialist at our other location.”

At this appointment they also tested me and found that my blood iron to be low because of all the bleeding so I need to take an iron supplement or kick up my high iron foods. Great, now I’m anemic. But I’m putting one foot in front of the other and doing what needs to be done to fix this shit! I was scheduled for another appointment with the specialist for the following week. Yes, we are up almost six weeks of being on my period at this point.

My appointment with the Planned Parenthood specialist was awesome. I cannot say enough about him, Dr. Kyle Bukowski. He was so easy to talk to. Very personable and comforting and makes little jokes to keep things light, but it wasn’t forced or awkward. He really helped me feel like everything was going to be okay. So, shout out to Dr. Bukowski for making the next step so much less scary. I had three different options:

The first was to take an estrogen birth control pill to force stop the period and build back the uterus lining and that would possibly fix the never ending period problem, but no guarantee.

The second was to surgically remove the fibroids. My biggest one was only about the size of a golf ball and it was under the lining of my uterus (these bitches can vary in size, number, and can attach themselves in all different places in our reproductive system). This option would require going in around/in my belly button so there is minimal scaring but it’s incisions in my abdomen so there is pain and some recovery time. This option is also not a guaranteed fix as other fibroids may grow and attach themselves in the future.

The third option is was a hysterectomy. This option is a permanent and guaranteed solution to all the issues associated with the fibroids. No more fibroids ever. No more periods, EVER! Also, no more babies ever.

I was totally fine with the baby thing. I have three children. My youngest is nine. I had already made my decision on that issue a couple years ago anyway, so for me this wasn’t even part of the equation. The concern I had was the recovery time. It’s about a six week recovery no matter if you have your uterus removed abdominally or vaginally, although the down time is longer for abdominal removal. Luckily, I have had three vaginal births so I was a good candidate for a vaginal hysterectomy.

You may think that I would go right in for the permanent fix, but I didn’t at first. I went for the first option and wanted to see if a pill could fix it (good ol’ alcoholic/addict tendencies. Ha!). Honestly though, I didn’t want to deal with recovery time. I am a single working mother, and I never stop moving! The idea of not being able to do anything for weeks is absolutely terrifying. No exercise, no driving, not being able to do shit for myself… Yuck! This is an independent person’s nightmare. It only took me a week of being on estrogen to change my mind though. Fuuuuuck that! I immediately started having terrible headaches when I started the pills and had them every day. I’ve never had migraines, so I don’t know if that’s what these where, but these bitches were awful! I have never experienced headaches like that in my life. I looked it up. The world wide web said the headaches are common but can go away. So I was toughing it out, but then vertigo set in. Sweet mother of goodness, come on! I finally stop bleeding and now I’ve lost my balance and I feel nauseous?! Nope. I’m not doing that shit. I called Dr. Bukowski’s nurse and asked her to have Dr. B schedule the surgery.

They scheduled the surgery two weeks out. March 17, 2021. Then it was a mad dash to get all my shit together for my students to do asynchronous lessons for the three days that I would be gone. I think this was one of the only times I was grateful that we were doing online learning! I prepped everything ahead of time. I confirmed with my wonderfully fantastic cousin that she could come down and stay with me for a couple days and play nurse (you will need someone with you if you ever do this surgery). I checked to make sure my Dad could watch little miss Alie on the day of the surgery just in case I was a hot mess (which I was so I’m very glad she wasn’t there). I met with Dr. B for my pre-op so I knew what was going to go down and I made sure to talk to him about pain management because I’m a recovering addict/alcoholic and it is my responsibility to protect my sobriety and make sure I’m being safe about meds.

The day of the surgery arrives. I was really nervous leading up to it, but I was okay. My cousin dropped me off at the hospital at 6 am. Alie came with her to drop me off. I walked in and got checked in. Went into surgery prep. Met all the amazing people that would be involved, the anesthesiologist, the nurses, and the other doctors that assist with the surgery. They were all so friendly and nice. It was a really good experience. Dr. B came in and talked to me and told me they were gonna start me on some IV meds that were going to make me feel pretty loaded, which they did, and wow… it had been a long time! Ha! Then we rolled into the operating room and the anesthesiologist asked if I was ready for a kick ass margarita. Haaa! I appreciate people who are comfortable making jokes about my recovery… I do, it’s funny! So I got my margarita delivered straight into my IV and that was all she wrote! I was out!

I woke up later, I had no idea how much later (I later learned that the surgery started at about 8:30 am and was done by 11:00 am). I was super loopy and was not very comfortable. The nurses asked how I was feeling so I told them that it hurt. They gave me more juice in the IV and I went back out. I kept fading in and out and I remember that I would hear beeping and then a nurse would tell me to take a deep breath. I guess I was so out that that my blood oxygen levels would start to drop and trigger the monitor… So it was foggy, but waking up, telling them it hurt, getting more meds, going back out, them telling me to breathe… That lasted hours, but I had no idea. I finally asked for my phone and wanted some water around 3:30 or 4:00 pm. The nurses said I had to pee before I could go home so they had me drinking water and juice. They brought me some graham crackers too, but the anesthesiologist told ahead of time that nausea and vomiting are a common side effect from the anesthesia, and she was right! Those crackers were not my friends. I didn’t know at the time, but I was given both fentanyl and oxy in my IV, so when you’re trying to figure out the pain levels, it was enough for those mothers… I was finally able to get up and go to the bathroom at about 5:30 pm, but getting up and moving made me super nauseous and I puked. Gross, but that’s the truth of it. I felt it coming though, so I was handed a cool little blue barf bag before I actually got sick. But I was cleared to go home!

The nurses wheeled me out to the front of the hospital to meet my cousin who drove me home. They gave me another blue barf bag for the way home, which was necessary and useful. My cousin had already picked up my meds for me so I started those as soon as I got home. I was NOT comfortable at home that first night. It was pretty fucking awful. The one thing that really helped was that my cousin went and got an electric heating pad from CVS. That thing was a life saver! The pain itself was not sharp pain. It was like a contraction. Like a deep aching kind of pain all the way through my lower abdomen and lower back. It sucked, I’m not gonna sugar coat it. I couldn’t tell if it was the pain or the anesthesia that was making me nauseous, but the pain and nausea was constant. I couldn’t eat. I threw up again. I was a hot mess, so I was very grateful Alie wasn’t there. I’m also glad that I had my cousin there and not just my son. While he was helpful and went and got me flavored bubbly water, I’m glad he didn’t have to deal with my puking and all that. Day two was more of the same. Uncomfortable. Lower back achy pain. Nauseous. No eating. Just generally miserable. But day three was WAAAAY better!

On day three, I ordered a Jersey Mike’s sub to be delivered for breakfast… so yeah, I was feeling way better, but I took it easy. I just hung out on the couch all day. Day 4 felt even better. I flushed the rest of my pain meds as I had gone 24 hours without needing anything stronger than ibuprofen. I only had Dr. B prescribe ten pills to begin with, but I flushed three of them. There was still some back pain, but overall I was feeling soooo much better and was eating and all that.

Day 5 was when I really saw the difference though. I had my Dad drive me to the grocery store, but when I got home and was putting stuff away I noticed that the fridge needed a scrub (I’d noticed it for months but hadn’t had the energy to deal with it). So I took apart my entire fridge and scrubbed the shit out of that mother. I took the shelves completely out! Then I cleaned out the bathroom drawers and cabinets, then the hall closets. I was on a good one! I had noticed for a little over a year that my energy levels had dropped, but I thought it was just age and that I overdo it and stretch myself too thin. I never thought it was anything related to a medical issue. Even when I started experiencing the never ending periods, I didn’t even think about my energy issue being related because it had been so long since I felt energetic. I didn’t make the connection until that fifth day when I was all over the damn place like a kid with ADHD who forgot to take their meds! I have ADHD by the way, so I’m not making light of that condition, it can be very frustrating to deal with. Anyway, my old self is back!

I can’t even tell you how grateful I am to feel like myself again, for the first time in so long! I am totally off any hormones that are not my own. No more IUD. No more birth control. No more fibroids. No more periods. Just me, with all this energy to burn! I’ve been waking up at 4:00 am, with no alarm, and am ready to roll! I don’t feel like I need a nap every day anymore. I feel fucking fantastic! And what did I decided to do with that energy since I can’t get into a gym till the recovery process is over? I mean besides clean the shit out of my house (which I did)… I finally started the blog that I’ve been wanting to start for about 7 years now! Ha!

That is my fibroid story, but on the statistical end of things, eighty percent of women between the ages of 30 and 50 will get fibroids. Thirty percent of them will need some kind of treatment for it. Thirty percent! And that number is higher for black women… And no one tells us about this! No one teaches us that we may start to bleed uncontrollably or experience any number of other painful or frightening symptoms. So, I as an educator, I feel it my responsibility to educate more people about this thing that I learned about so that I can hopefully save someone else the panic and fear that I experienced and that so many others have experienced. Thank you to all of you who have reached out to me on social media when I started posting about my diagnosis, and sharing your own experiences and your fears about how to deal with your own reproductive health. You inspired this post. And thank you to my high school friend Bonnie, who I’ve stayed connected with on Fb, who went through this right before me and posted about it and made me feel like I wasn’t alone. We are not alone in this shit! Talk about it. Normalize talking about women’s health.

(Photo: When I got my approval letter from my insurance company before surgery, it said, “You have been approved for the following procedure: Surgery of Private Part.” That’s fucking ridiculous! Can we please normalize talking about our bodies?!)