A year later – tubal ligation

Today marks year since I got my tubes tied. It’s been a journey for sure. I want to reflect a little bit on how it changed me and the reception I have gotten in the past year.

[[Read previous blogs from last year here: part 1, part 2, part 3]]

I asked on my Twitter and Facebook for questions if there was something people were wondering about and I’ll go over that below, later in the post.

Freedom and personal life

I remember the day I left my mum’s house after 3 days of recovery and went back home. I had been wearing PJs and watching TV for about three days. I was still sore and tired and couldn’t sit up from the sofa using my stomach muscles but putting on clothes and going back home – and I know how dramatic this sounds – was… the most me I have ever felt. I felt free. I felt like I was driving towards a new life, MY life. This wasn’t holding me back anymore, now there was no going back. There is no chance of falling pregnant.

I think the best description is “freedom”. I feel free to be me, if that makes sense. Societal pressures and traditions regarding children don’t apply to me anymore, I have the control. I’m also free from pressures I was putting on myself and from constant anxiety about falling pregnant and having to deal with getting an abortion – or worse for me, dealing with a child! I have more freedom to let my life lead me in the direction I’m meant to go in, rather than following a path I know is not right for me.

I got a bit of media attention here in Iceland which was great because I know how much I would’ve needed to know about this option much earlier myself. To hear someone talk about it. I got introduced to two Facebook groups (one international, one Icelandic) of like-minded people and it has been amazing. Realizing I’m far from alone was so important for me.

Representation about this matters (as all representation does!). We need to realize that this is just one angle of “there are more ways to be” than the norm. It is not wrong to not have children, it is not selfish (in the negative meaning, to me being selfish isn’t that negative), you are not failing or making a mistake.

But it hasn’t just been fun and games. I’ve learnt through stories and experiences that even when you do something as drastic as getting your tubes tied – people still somehow don’t believe you or think it’s somehow wrong. I’ve gotten “but you will change your mind!” from strangers. Thankfully most conversations about this are nice and even when people don’t understand they aren’t rude about it, but those few rude ones still lurk around. With this as with a lot of things, women aren’t trusted to make decisions about their own body and life.

I think my most surprising, disappointing but much needed realization is that no matter how open and upfront I am about this, I will meet and date people who in the end realize they want children. This sucks more than I can explain. I hadn’t realized, because I am so open about my choice, that this will still happen. It has and it will keep happening for sure. I respect that completely and I understand but it’s still quite heartbreaking. Of course this is just a part of dating as any other deal-breaker is, but it was definitely a revelation for me.

It is and will continue to be a learning experience for me. I probably think about this every day, honestly mostly because of how happy I am. 4 months ago my best friend had a baby and I’ve found myself be able to enjoy being his auntie, being with him and getting to know him much more than I expected. I think this is because before I felt the pressure of “when will you have kids” from society every day and being around children was such a “LOOK, YOU LOVE IT!” type of thing (yes, I have gotten those comments). Now I can enjoy being his auntie without feeling pressure on my on womb.

Periods

When I asked on FB and Twitter, a few people mentioned periods. As tubal ligation is actually severing/clipping/burning apart the fallopian tubes (ísl: eggjaleiðarar) nothing in regards to period changes. There is no hormonal change. I still ovulate, the egg just can’t go through the now tied fallopian tubes to meet the sperm to get fertilized. If I remember correctly it basically just evaporates into the bloodstream. It’s basically like my womb doesn’t know that this surgery has happened, it still prepares my uterus for pregnancy and as that doesn’t happen, I go on my period.

Even though this is kind of annoying, since I don’t have any use for this build up in my uterus, I have enjoyed immensely being off hormonal birth control. I actually stopped it about 4 months before my surgery (and side effects from Nuva Ring was actually one of the last nails in the coffin for me to ask for this procedure!) so now I’ve been off it for about 16 months. For me, this is amazing. I feel more connected to my body, I understand it better and I feel like I can more easily realize when something is off. Of course a lot of women use hormonal birth control to be able to stop periods or period pain, but for me there was never that much of a change on or off.

As I still have my eggs and my uterus, it’s just the connection that is cut, this also means that IF I were to change my mind (I won’t) I can get IVF. I can still, technically, carry a child. I mean… I really honestly won’t, but that was a very interesting fact to me.

The process and getting doctors to agree

I got asked if I was happy with “the process”. I assume they mean after the surgery and the thing is – there is no process. If everything goes well and there is nothing unusual during the healing period, there doesn’t really need to be a follow up. I go to my OBGYN regularly anyway (and had other problems in 2018 that were unrelated). Even though this procedure is more invasive than with men, it’s relatively quick and easy. I was in and out in 2 hours, had 3 days of “intense” recovery and then maybe a week or two more of soreness and then I was fine.

I also got a comment saying they knew girls who wanted to get this surgery but couldn’t find doctors that would. This is a huge problem in the US and probably elsewhere from what I’ve seen on the childfree Facebook group I am in but in Iceland, your OBGYN can’t say no to the surgery if you are over 25 (as in, if he doesn’t do it himself, he should/could be able to point you in the right direction). If you or anyone you know is having problems with this, you are welcome to send me a message (this applies to surgeries in Iceland).

I also saw the phrase “post-ligation syndrome”, which I hadn’t heard of and from a quick google, I didn’t experience myself.

Regret?

People also asked if I had ever in the past year regretted this decision.

ABSOLUTELY NOT! 

I honestly, genuinely, really, absolutely and wholeheartedly believe that I never will. This is me. Like I said before, I’ve never felt more me. I feel free. I feel like this helps me be the person I am supposed to be (alright calm down Dr. Seuss).

Whatever different directions this will bring me, especially in regards to relationship, I know it’s the right direction.

And the tubes have been tied. Part 3.

On January 23rd at 8 am, I walked into a clinic in Reykjavík, and two hours later I walked out with my tubes tied. I’m a single, childless woman in my late twenties.

Part 1 – Part 2
[Shorter Icelandic version is below]
I will also be making a part 4 sometime in the future addressing some of the criticism and comments I got along the way.

Today is Sunday and I’m on my 5th day of recovery. I want to tell you about the process from the start but before I do I want to put this disclaimer:
My experience is my experience. Should you have this surgery it could be completely different. It’s important to consult with your doctor and follow their instructions completely. I’m not going into details about what happens in the surgery as I don’t remember it detailed enough. Your doctor can explain it much better than me. In this blog I want to tell my story and about my first days of recovery. Now…

The night before I fell asleep quite late, which is not unusual for me. I was quite tired and groggy when I got to the clinic but excited. I signed a few documents, saying I understood the risks and that I was making this decision myself. Not long after I was given a bed. A nurse came by to give me a hospital gown and check when I had last eaten (as you have to fast from midnight). The anaesthetist came by as well as well as the surgeon. About 20 minutes after I was given the bed I was asked to come to the operating room where the anaesthetist put a needle in my arm. Everything went by so quick, he was grabbing things and tubes and put something in the needle, I felt a sharp weird but nice feeling in my head that I commented on and like that I was out.

Fresh right after waking up

Waking up after anaesthetia is so weird! I remember being in the operating room and then all of a sudden I was wide awake back in the bed I had originally been in. I was a tiny bit groggy but I did feel I woke up quite nicely. A nurse came by and gave me water. I felt like I needed the toilet and she said I could go (but not lock the door) but that since my bladder had been emptied in the surgery nothing would happen. She was right, but there was a small blood clot that fell down.

The doctor came by and told me the surgery had went well. I had two band aids on, one over my belly button and one on the left side of my lower abdomen. He told me that I should leave it on for four days and that it was completely water proof. Not long after the nurse told me I could get dressed and leave!

I admit I was a little bit surprised, I thought that the “after care” would take longer but granted most of my research comes from other countries so the experience may vary.

I had read before that one of the side effects afterwards could be pains in the shoulder. This is due to the fact that they pump air into you to have more space to operate and then the air moves around the body in an attempt to get out. I wouldn’t say it’s painful but it’s uncomfortable and bit weird. I only got it in the right shoulder, for about a day.  Fair warning: there are a lot of farts as the air tries to make its way out.

I’m surprised at how little sore I felt, compared to what I had imagined. I felt mostly tired physically. Counting surgery day as day 1 of recovery I’d say the first three days I was quite tired and a bit sore, and did not feel like using my stomach muscles at all. So sitting up from lying down can be a bit of a task.

On day 4 (Friday, January 26th) I went back to my house in Reykjavík and had planned to go to a TV show viewing party downtown. I felt fine and looked fine, but I was there for about 3-3,5 hours and I was exhausted. As it was a viewing party for Rupauls Drag Race All Stars 3 and it was hosted by a fabolous drag queen there was a lot of cheering and clapping. It. was. exhausting.

I think the main thing that I’ve noted from this experience is how much energy it takes to heal. You may look fine and you may feel fine, but your body is working really hard to mend a huge wound that has been made. Most things I read was that recovery was 2-3 days or maybe 1-5 days but that it was easy. It’s definitely easy – but it’s also much harder than I expected. If you have this surgery – take time off and just rest. You may hear the phrase “take care of yourself” but in this case it means: do not do anything. Rest, take a nap and then rest some more. Give your body time. Take more naps. And then rest some more.

As to a bit more physical stuff, I was told not to go to the gym or have sex for at least a week, but as I’ve read 7-10 days, I will probably give it at least 10 days. If you’re a gym rat (which I am not), start slowly. Don’t go straight back to your normal routine and give yourself time to get there. The biggest risk with any surgery is internal bleeding and it can be hard to spot.

I took the band aids off yesterday as instructed. The cuts are about 1-2 cms (?). The one on my belly button is very well healed. The other scar was a bit more open so I bought “Steristrip” band aids to put over them as the help keep the skin closer together as it heals. In any case these won’t be big or noticeable scars for sure. Both scars have a bit of a bruise around them.

It’s been an experience for sure but once I came back home on Friday (after spending a few days at my mums house during recovery), I felt quite emotional. I felt like this was the first day of the rest of my life. I feel very right in my body now, I feel very free. My choice to be childfree is now somehow more validated in my head, as now there is no take backs. I honestly can’t find a better word than just feeling free. Free from some pressures about “changing my mind”.

So this is it. It’s done. I can now move forward in my life, child free and worry free.

Make your own decisions. Your life is yours, your body is yours. Choose to put yourself first, your needs, your wants and your life.

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Styttri íslensk útgáfa

Mig langaði að skrifa bara stuttlega á íslensku um aðgerðina af því að mér finnst ekki nóg af persónulegum upplýsingum á netinu á íslensku. Þetta er mín lífsreynsla og ef þú ert að íhuga þessa aðgerð – talaðu þá við lækni. Þín reynsla bæði af aðgerðinni og batanum gæti verið allt öðruvísi.

Ég fór í aðgerðina hjá Lækningu í Lágmúla eftir að hafa talað við kvensjúkdómalækninn minn þar. Biðtíminn var um 5 vikur fyrir mig frá því ég hringdi svo til að panta tímann. Þar skiptir líka máli hvar þú ert í tíðahringnum. Skurðlæknirinn sendi mér upplýsingar í tölvupósti um kviðholsspeglun (mér fannst svolítið vanta upplýsingar um ófrjósemisaðgerðina sjálfa í það skjal reyndar) sem og umsókn sem þarf að fylla út og koma með á aðgerðardag.

Ég kom um 8 leytið um morguninn, skrifaði undir nokkur skjöl (um að ég vissi áhætturnar og að ég væri að taka þessa ákvörðun sjálf) og fékk svo rúm. Hjúkrunarfræðingur, svæfingalæknir og skurðlæknirinn komu við til að útskýra aðeins aðgerðina og ekki löngu seinna var ég komin í gulan slopp og upp á borð í skurðstofunni! Svæfingalæknirinn setti nál í handlegginn á mér og áður en ég vissi af var hann búinn að setja lyfið í, ég fann furðulega tilfinningu í hausnum og næsta sem ég veit er að ég vaknaði í rúminu sem ég var í fyrst.

Ég fékk vatn og bað um að fara á klósettið en þar sem blaðran er tæmd í aðgerðinni þá gerir það nú lítið. Ég fékk samt að fara og ég held að tilfinningin sem ég hafi fundið hafi verið vegna smá blóðkögguls sem kom út þegar ég fór á klósettið.

Læknirinn kom við og lét mig vita að allt hefði gengið vel og að ég mætti fara! Ég var semsagt mætt klukkan 8 og farin klukkan 10.

Það helsta sem ég tók eftir næstu daga er þreyta. Ég er búin að vera frekar líkamlega þreytt. Ég er talsvert minna aum en ég hélt þó það sé vissulega til staðar. Margar hreyfingar varðandi að setjast upp eða skipta um stellingu í rúminu eða sófanum eru óþægilegar og erfiðar þar sem að það er óþægilegt að nota magavöðvana.

Það mikilvægasta er bara hvíla hvíla hvíla. Taka því rólega, leggja sig og hvíla sig og taka því svo meira rólega. Ekki fara í stórþrif eða lyfta eða hlaupa. Mér var sagt að ég mætti fara í ræktina eftir viku, en ég myndi þá ekki fara beint í eitthvað hardcore heldur bara byrja hægt. Sömuleiðis má ekki stunda kynlíf í viku (og ég er svo nojuð að ég myndi hafa það 10 daga minnst). Ég er samt enn nógu aum núna á degi 5 til þess að geta ekki ímyndað mér neinn hasar!

Þrátt fyrir að vera enn frekar þreytt á degi 5 þá er ég svo glöð og ánægð. Ferlið var auðvelt, aðgerðin var auðveld og fljótleg og bataferlið er í raun frekar stutt og auðvelt. Ég hlakka til að klára þetta ferli og halda áfram með líf mitt – barnlaus.

Do I hate children? Part 2.

January 23^rd 2018, 39 days before my 28^th birthday, I will get my tubes tied.

This is part two of my thoughts about choosing to be childfree. You can find part one here.

I’ve never been a huge fan of kids. Not even when I was a kid. This is definitely a part of the reason that I don’t want to have kids of my own. But I think I’ve also made it more dramatic than it is, as a defense mechanism when explaining to people why I don’t want kids.

I’ve never really been good with kids. I don’t know how to speak to them or play with them and I don’t understand them. I feel like generally kids don’t like me either, but I’m not surprised – it’s probably a vibe I give off. And I never had the urge to change that, consciously. It’s a mutual understanding between me and kids that we’re just fine without each other.

However, in the recent years this has started to change. There are a few kids I enjoy being around, mostly ones that are close to me through family or friends. I’ve started to learn how to speak to kids and how to play with them. This is a huge learning process for me but I’m very glad, because it really held me back for a long time. Being around kids made me anxious, I didn’t want to be doing something wrong, speaking to them in the wrong way or telling them things they weren’t equipped to hear. So I stayed away.

The reason I say it’s a defence mechanism is because I had times where I’d be around kids, holding them or playing with them, and I’d get a “see! You’ll learn to love kids and want to have one of your own one day!”. And it really scared me. Would I really change my mind? Was what I was feeling so wrong? Does what I am feeling make me somehow a worse person?

In reality, my conclusion was always that no – my feelings weren’t wrong, I wasn’t a worse person and I would not be changing my mind. But somehow playing with kids made other people gleefully go “I told you so!” when actually, nothing had changed. And so, I made sure to stay away from kids and to make it absolutely clear that not just did I dislike them – I hated them. It’s was just easier to brush conversations off with “oh no I hate kids”. I convinced myself of it and it now makes me sad. It makes me feel like I didn’t let myself explore the feeling of having fun playing with nieces and nephews knowing that it did not mean that I didn’t have to have kids myself.

As such, I am still very unequipped at dealing with children. Being asked to babysit terrifies me. I’ve worked in three kindergartens and a summer camp and having to deal with kids terrifies me to this day. I never got the chance to learn, because being constantly told that what I was feeling was wrong, made me more adamant in showing them. Proving to other people that I didn’t want kids.

I know that for some it may sound ridiculous. How can a grown woman not be around kids? It is very hard to explain to people that don’t feel this way. I absolutely don’t understand how people can not like dogs because I adore them. (please don’t take this as me comparing kids to dogs…). But joy that other people, some of my closest friends even, get from being around almost all children, almost all the time (their own, others and even strangers) is completely foreign to me.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m still not a huge fan of kids. I don’t think that will change. With this post I am not saying that I actually adore kids even though I don’t want them. That’s not the truth. The truth is that I am, mostly, very indifferent to kids. In general, I have no strong feelings, I still would rather want to stay away – except for a select few. And I don’t think that it is wrong of me to feel this way. But I also think it explains why I have a disconnection to wanting kids, because why would I want something I don’t even like?

Be sure to check back next week, as I will write about the surgery and recovery. January 23rd is coming up quick and I couldn’t be more excited.

I’m (almost) 28 and I’m getting my tubes tied. Part 1.

January 23^rd 2018, 39 days before my 28^th birthday, I will get my tubes tied.

I am a single, childless woman. I know this raises a lot of questions and I want to explain, both to educate but also to put my own thoughts in order.

Since I was a kid myself I never connected with this idea of motherhood. When I played with dolls, I was most often a single doll-mum and working. I remember playing dolls with a male friend of mine and making him be a stay-at-home-dad. I talked about the kids I would have because honestly, I didn’t know you were allowed to not want kids. My Barbie’s sometimes had kids, but usually they’d find a babysitter, so they could go do something else than be mothers.

Once I realized that it was a possibility I started talking about not wanting kids. I remember being a teenager and saying that I didn’t want kids and I remember people telling me then and into my early adulthood that I would change my mind. Not that I might change my mind, but that I would. I would meet the one and these feelings would start to come.

I was in a relationship for four years and we had serious talks about having children. In the end, this was probably the biggest deal breaker for me when the relationship ended, because I didn’t want children and he did. I realized that even when I thought I wanted children, at the end of the day… I just really, really didn’t!

There’s a huge gap in representation of women choosing to be childfree. Because when they do, there’s always speculation. Look at Oprah, Ellen Degeneres and Jennifer Aniston. Through the years there have been so many articles and gossip columns written about them not having kids. Jennifer Aniston was often viewed as having “lost” the break up with Brad Pitt because he ended up with children and she didn’t. I recommend reading this short essay she wrote about the matter. If these women wanted kids – they would have kids. They have the money to adopt or do IVF or use a surrogate as many rich A-listers do. But they don’t.

We are complete with or without a mate, with or without a child. We get to decide for ourselves what is beautiful when it comes to our bodies. That decision is ours and ours alone. (…) We don’t need to be married or mothers to be complete. We get to determine our own “happily ever after” for ourselves.” – Jennifer Aniston.

It took me a while to accept within myself that this was my truth. That I knew I will not change my mind. I’ve come to realize that it’s internalized prejudice that has stopped me so far, I’ve believed the voices that told me I would change my mind and that I would end up having kids. I believed that I was too young to understand, that I was just too stupid to see it. That one day I would wake up with an aching pain in my uterus, screaming and kicking for me to inhabit it with a child.

Maybe I will change my mind. And guess what – if I do, that’s okay! But I wholeheartedly believe, and have for the past almost 28 years, that I will not. To calm all of you – if I do change my mind I will be able to use IVF as both my uterus and my eggs will be intact. Yes, I know it’s expensive. But you know what else is expensive? Years and years of hormonal birth control and the occasional Plan B when others fail.

I’ve tried pills, the ring and even IUD. Since I was 14 (first for medical reasons) I have been more or less on hormonal birth control, and when I have not been I’ve felt so much better. They have either buried me in side effects (I guess having your sex drive completely die down is definitely a good way to not get pregnant…) or brought me a lot of pain (I’m looking at you self-dislodged IUD and 30 days of bleeding. Yeah, 30 days.). I like my body when I’m off these, I like my natural cycle. I experience cramps and heavy flows and I hate that, but I also feel very free when I’m off hormonal birth control, I feel very me and my body feels right. (Note: I don’t want the copper IUD as it’s known to increase cramps and flow and I’m quite fine in that department).

It’s very simple. I do not want children. I don’t want to be a mother. I don’t want to take birth control hormones. I want to not have to worry about it monthly (even when taking other precautions as a single woman should).

I’ve researched. I’ve read. I’ve written. I’ve talked to friends. I always end up at the same conclusion – I don’t want to have children. And I’ve even come to find that I don’t think I’d mind having a step-child, I just really don’t want to have children of my own. I don’t want to be pregnant, I don’t want to give birth, I don’t want to breast or bottle feed, I don’t want to have children of my own.

I am still very defensive, but rightfully so. I’ve been told over and over and over again that my feelings are not right, that they are not natural. It’s tiring and rude and unnecessary. That’s why I’m writing this now, because I want there to be voices telling other women that this is okay. That they are not alone.

We need to stop telling people how they feel and start listening to how they tell you they feel.

I’m not doing this lightly. I have given this more thought than I think anyone can imagine. And I always arrive at the same place. My ultimate destiny is not to have children. It’s not to be a mother. What it is, I don’t know. But I can’t wait to be that family friend that spoils my friend’s kids rotten, that cool aunt that they come to when it’s too embarrassing to talk to mum and dad. Because believe me, I don’t hate children (my feelings on this will be another post).

I’m more than open to discussing this, I’m more than open to answer questions. But I’m done with being told how to feel or how to be. I respect people that want to have kids and I ask for the same respect when it comes to my decision. Please don’t talk behind my back, please don’t think I’m stupid. Ask me if you want to know, but do so with an open mind and open heart. Listen to me and believe me.