Life in a daze

Hello again everyone.

I stopped yesterday because it was just too hard remembering those years. Imagine starting married life with that kind of news. It was especially devastating as l have always loved children. Even as a child, l would be estactic when we had visitors who brought their babies to visit. If they slept over, l would lie awake at night counting the hours until day break when l could hold the babies. My mother and her friends would laugh and tell me l was getting early practice. I love their smell; that fresh baby smell of talc and baby oil. I would cry for hours when the visitors leave and wonder why they couldn’t stay for ever.l have always assumed l would be a mother, l had no reason to think otherwise. My mother had 7 children-4 survived into adulthood. My aunties, siblings, cousins and my entire extended family both paternal and maternal all had a number of children-African families believed in having as many children as possible-so why would l be different?

Why indeed?  According to Wikipedia, “genetic predisposition play a role in endometriosis. Daughters or sisters of patients with the disease are at higher risk of developing endometriosis themselves”. Yet my mother never had the disease and neither did anyone in her family. No one in my father’s family has it either so why me?  I pondered over this question all through those years when l was newly diagonised. After my operation in 2006, everyone assumed( me included) that l would take in immediately but as the months passed and the periods became painful again, depression set in. In 2007, a gnawing pain started again this time in the left side of my stomach. A scan showed that another cyst is growing on my left ovary , about 10 centimetres. An appointment was fixed for another operation but it would be a laparoscopy- keyhole surgery. The months passed by in a daze. I started comfort eating and l balloned to 17 stone. I simply stopped caring about anything but food. My marriage suffered as a result and my studies were deferred. I also became extremely emotional and would cry at the drop of a hat. Anything would set me off; a cry of a baby, pregnant women or even the sight of a buggy. It was simply depressing.

Once again, l have to stop here. Thanks for reading

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