My Planned Hysterectomy Is Bringing Back the Loss of My Son

By Erica Landis
March 21, 2022

When my ob-gyn first suggested a hysterectomy, I was all for it. In fact, my hand flew up into the air in a thumbs-up position. I’d read the pathology report showing precancerous cells in my cervix. A hysterectomy sounded like a magic wand that would wave away any possibility of cancer. Case closed.

Bloodwork confirmed that my 53-year-old body was now postmenopause. No more surprise periods or painful cramps. No more seeking out the most enormous overnight sanitary pads with wings at Target. I was happy to hear that, too.

Two weeks later, I left an oncologist’s office with a glossy folder filled with preop instructions and forms. I sat in my car for a few minutes before driving home. I stared at the doctor’s photo in the brochure. He was experienced. He was informative and even pleasant. He was also pretty matter-of-fact about it all. I wasn’t scared.

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