Update: A Year After My Hysterectomy
Reflecting on the Past Year
That title should really read, “Update: A Year After My Hysterectomy and Sacrocolpopexy,” but I only have so much space to work with here!
I had surgery on August 21, 2023 (my 13-year wedding anniversary, how romantic) and was pleasantly surprised by how well everything went. I shared an update a week later, but I haven’t revisited this topic since then, mostly because it hasn’t been top of mind for me. I don’t think about it very often, the “before” times. But it popped into my mind that it’s been a year since my surgery, and over the past few weeks I’ve reflected—what led up to it, how and why I finally decided to have the surgery and how so very glad I am that I went through with it—even if it took me a decade to make that decision (that’s not an exaggeration; it really took me a decade).
I’m sharing an update because fortunately, my surgery, recovery and the year thereafter went well, and it was helpful for me to learn about other women’s experiences when I was making my decision to have surgery. I read a lot and had many conversations with my doctors, so I had lot of ideas about what this past year would be like. Fortunately, some of what is common for other women hasn’t been what I’ve experienced.
My decision to have a hysterectomy and sacrocolpopexy obviously wasn’t one I entered into lightly. Besides waiting until our daughter was older, I was trepidatious about surgery in general; I’d never had surgery. I read as much reputable information as I could find, talked repeatedly with my doctors and one amazing nurse in particular and spent a lot of time in the Association for Pelvic Organ Prolapse Support group on Facebook. I wanted to be informed and understand not only what to expect from the surgery, but also what to expect post-op. One of the resounding themes I gathered was weight gain’s near inevitability following a hysterectomy. I had a lot of thoughts about that, the first of which is—that’s what we’re concerned about? Weight gain? But I read it so many times that I let it concern me a wee bit, against my better judgment. It certainly wasn’t concerning enough to avoid surgery, but it was on my mind.
Surgery went well. Two weeks later I was socializing at a birthday party. Barely a month later, I was on a plane to Las Vegas for a weekend for a U2 concert. I got back on my daily walking routine relatively quickly although I took it slow—walking slower and shorter distances initially, but I was back to my three-mile route before long. I was very cautious the first four or five months after surgery. I was so paranoid about breaking myself, for lack of a better way of putting it, despite my doctor telling me the contrary, “You’re not going to break anything!” But I know it isn’t uncommon for prolapse to reoccur later in life and I’d like to avoid that if at all possible.
Still, by the end of last year, I was growing antsy. I wanted to do more than take walks. At my final post-op follow-up with my urogynecologist about three-and-a-half months after surgery, I shared my concerns and she reminded me the reason I had surgery was to get my life back, so to speak, and to return to everything I previously did—including even running if I wanted to do that. She gave me the okay to lift weights, too, but cautioned against CrossFit, as if that was something I wanted to do (no, thank you).
Where I am Today…
Armed with my doctor’s support and encouragement, I added Barre3 to my workout routine early this year and consistently go to classes weekly. I still walk almost daily. Plus, I bought a walking tread for under my desk so I use that daily to get in some steps—especially on days I don’t go for a walk. I proactively opted for a few sessions with a pelvic floor physical therapist because I wanted to attempt running again but like I said, I was paranoid. I wanted to be so careful and do things the right way to minimize the impact on my body. That was the first time in my life a medical professional ever talked to me about the importance of diaphragmatic breathing; that alone has made me more aware. She also observed that I run tense which wasn’t news to me! I’ve only attempted one very short run but it felt good. I’m ready to do it again once summer settles down in Austin.
Going through surgery—and my age—has made me more conscious of women’s health concerns in midlife. I’m reading more and more about perimenopause and menopause. Before my surgery, I learned it’s not uncommon for a hysterectomy to catapult menopause, although that’s not necessarily the case if ovaries remain, which is my situation. I’m certain I’m in perimenopause, though, based on symptoms. Even a few months before surgery, I felt noticeably moodier than normal—it was both noticeable and seemingly uncontrollable. Then, something I experienced after my surgery was hot flashes. They began roughly six months post-op if I recall correctly; I had them at night while sleeping. I would wake up in the middle of the night, hot and sweating. I talked to my ob/gyn and started Estradiol hormone replacement therapy, which has helped. The hot flashes stopped immediately and other symptoms have improved, too—not radically, but definitely noticeable.
Oh, and how could I forget? NO MORE PERIODS! I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a silver lining of surgery.
About the Supposed Weight Gain…
I haven’t gained a pound since my hysterectomy. My weight is exactly the same as it was the day I had surgery. What I have noticed, however, is my body composition has changed. My weight has shifted and I seemingly carry more weight around my middle, which I also read about being common post-hysterectomy. Yet, I also feel more hourglass in shape, maybe partly due to my regular barre routine. I’ll admit I was waiting to see the number on the scale shift and I’d like to say it wouldn’t bother me if it had, but that’s something that will probably always be a work in progress for me—mindset.
I don’t feel one way or another about my body post-surgery, although I’m so happy I don’t have to deal with the nuisance of a prolapsed uterus anymore! Accepting my body as it is has been an ongoing focus for me, though, in recent years, so I take this non-feeling as a win. It’s certainly better than the alternative.
Prioritizing Myself and My Health
I feel fortunate—in many ways—that I was able to have this surgery and it went as well as it did. It’s impacted my life for the better and it’s shifted my focus as far as taking care of myself. Though, I think my age and disposition—regardless of surgery—have contributed to prioritizing myself more, too. Aging is funny and kind of fabulous that way.
Here’s what I’m doing in my mid-40s, post-hysterectomy, to prioritize myself and my health:
I’m eating a healthy diet as much as possible and mostly intuitively eating. I’m only slightly knowledgeable—at best—about intuitive eating but when I think about how I eat, it seems most fitting to describe it that way. I can’t open my eyes on any given day without seeing a message somewhere about eating more protein so that’s in the daily rotation for me, as well as fiber. I was a vegetarian for about 10 years when I was younger and I find myself opting for vegetarian options more frequently these days, and mostly staying away from red meat.
Fitness and movement are part of my daily routine, even if it’s just walking on the tread under my desk throughout the day while I work. Typically it’s more than that, though—a 3-mile walk or a 45-minute barre class, depending on the day. I recently replaced my Fitbit with an Oura ring which helps keep me aware of my activity throughout the day as well as my sleep.
I do my best to nurture my mental and spiritual health. I’m a huge proponent of therapy and have been seeing my therapist for over four years now. It’s made a big difference in how I take care of myself from the inside. As a lapsed Catholic, being in nature is my spiritual time.
It’s taken me to reach my 40s to truly understand the importance of being educated and armed with information—and using my voice—when it comes to my health. I think it’s amazing how much information is available to us. Sure, it can and does absolutely feel like information overload most of the time but it’s our responsibility to siphon out what we believe and what works for us. It’s important to speak up and ask questions. I find myself doing this a lot more at medical appointments.
I feel good about where I am. Everyone’s experiences with this type of surgery are different but for me, it has made a positive impact on my life.
A few friends have commented on my openness about this topic, and how they’re glad I’m sharing. Something I appreciate about this period of time is how much more commonplace these topics and conversations are becoming. I think it’s important to contribute.
