Told by: Jaclyn
Back in 2003, I’d been diagnosed with Stage 4 Endometriosis, which left me crippled in pain, permanently damaged and disabled. I was 23 years old. I was a guinea pig for U of M and Mayo for quite a while and had been told by everyone that I’d have a less than 1% chance on getting pregnant. It was then in 2006 that I started scheduling my hysterectomy with not having any kids. (Side note: hysterectomy’s do not fix Endo as Mayo told me very strongly, and they were right. ) It turned out that I had gotten pregnant though. I think when we are told that we can’t have kids, our subconscious likes to challenge that. Ha ha. I had been dating the father for a little while, both head over heals in love and when I told him he replied saying “if this was to happen with anyone, I’m so glad it’s with you.” But as I told my doctors I didn’t get happy response. I had 7 or 8 doctors at this point and all said to terminate it because my uterus was the “uterus of a 70 year old”, totally unhabitable and I’d loose the baby right away or later and there was a good chance I could die with the baby due to complications. Me and the father talked it out and decided to go ahead and terminate the pregnancy. Shortly after that decision was made, the father started pulling away from me, but I didn’t notice because I was too upset myself with what I had to do. I had to have my friend bring me to the clinic, had to pass picketers, protesters and the most horrible things yelled to me. The doctor had to be extremely gentle with me, as to not puncture my fragile uterus or anything else like that. Well, he was too gentle because it didn’t take and I was still preggers (not taking in general is also very common. More common than you think.). The last time I talked to the father was the day after the procedure and then he left me. I had to write him a letter to tell him the new situation and I didn’t even get a reaction really. I decided that I got pregnant with the smallest chances and now a failed abortion, something was telling me to have it. So, I tried to have him. That’s what he was, a he. His due date was Feb. 20th. But the doctors were right and I lost him 5 1/2 months in. I got to hold him but no one was prepared with a camera, so I only have ultra sounds pictures. Once again, I had to write the father a letter to tell him and I didn’t get a reply, which crushed my soul even more and made everything 1,000 times worse. I did get to tell the father that he could choose the name if it was a boy, but I’ve never heard him say that he picked one out. I don’t remember a lot of it all. I’ve suppressed a lot of it on purpose. I held him for a while but the nurses had to lie to me, saying they were replacing the I.V. of saline when it was medicine to make me sleepy because I refused to let him go. I was all by myself without him. I was devastated. I went insane for quite a while after. I was just diagnosed with ptsd from it all this year. My Endo continued (and continues) to get worse, even forming into a very, very rare case of Endometriosis Extragenitalis, which is Endo not only in the regular areas but also on non regular areas too. I have it wrapped around my sciatic nerve, in and eating at my hip ligaments, tailbone and hip bones. I’m now disabled, can barley walk, in the worst pain you can imagine, and it’s inoperable and un-fixable. I got a hysterectomy in 2008, as a last ditch effort to help it that didn’t work at all. When I had it, the hospital had only one room for me to recover in avalible that I had to been in for a few days (I’m a high risk pacient with any surgery, so I had to stay.) and that was a room in the maternaty ward. I woke up from my surgery to a girl having a baby right next to me. Then others having kids in the room across the hall and to the rooms surrounding mine for the entire time I was there. The nurses and doctors felt so bad but the damage had been done. I’ve forgiven the father and we are now friends, but we do not talk about what happened at all. I had to forgive him for me to cope and move on, which I still haven’t done. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to forgive him completely for him leaving me and me having to deal with this big mess by myself though. I hope one day I fully can. When I made the final decision to get the hysterectomy, all I could think of was how much I wanted my baby boy and if I couldn’t have him, I didn’t want any at all and that I didn’t deserve to have any after what I’d done to him. I still feel that way today. I think now that maybe it wasn’t meant for me to have him because my illness has only gotten worse and only will get worse and there’s no way I’d be able to care for a child. Maybe my baby’s gift to me was that I wouldn’t end up always wondering what it felt like to be pregnant.