Post-Radical Robotic Trachelectomy and Pregnancy…a Journey Told by a Sarcastic SOB

Stage 1b1 cervical cancer is a pretty critical stage of cancer to diagnose. Why, you ask? Because there’s only a small window in the staging process that you can be a candidate for fertility-preserving radical robotic trachelectomy. Sound like a mouthful? It is. Fertility preservation is a very important piece of this puzzle, so keep this at the forefront of your mind; unless you’re here because you have questions that have gone unanswered because, in the deep abyss of the internet in 2017, there’s little-to-no information for people like me, or potentially, us.

I became a candidate on July 29, 2015 at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, Texas. Not one doctor point-blank told my husband and I that there was a high probability that we would have to seek fertility treatment. Do you know how stressful the thought of that is? It’s essentially a letdown. The doctors are telling my husband he failed in finding a responsible spouse that took care of her girly parts in her twenties before he met her. Not what you were thinking? Well, good for you, then, because I was.

After six months of trying on our own, and it was painful, by the way, because this surgery shortens your vagina and reattaches it to your uterus, we sought answers locally here in San Antonio. Let me tell you, it’s no trip to the fun park after having a trachelectomy because most doctors don’t know what the hell to do with you when you walk through their doors. You may as well have 8 tentacles, a white mohawk, and your name is Ursula. Oh…

The local doctor performed a routine hysterosalpingogram (HSG). The radiologist could not find the opening to my uterus, so lucky me, I had to tuck a catheter into my underwear, walk through a busy lobby, and take an elevator ride five flights up to my fertility specialist where she couldn’t find the opening either, so had to use and ultrasound machine. Back downstairs I went. I went back behind closed doors to be poked at while my husband was told to stay in the lobby. This is where it gets even more interesting…the doctor was having a conversation in the lobby with people behind the desk about my case. Isn’t that a HIPPA violation? Anyway…test was finally done and I was out the door. A couple weeks later, hubby and I went back for the results.

“So, I have some bad news,” the doctor said.

“Both of your tubes have total blockage,” she says. The room suddenly gets smaller and the walls close in on me.

“I recommend we do a full tubal ligation and move forward with IVF,”.

WHAT THE F*CK! (sorry for those virgin eyes out there, but I’m sure this would be your immediate reaction, too)

We left that day feeling angry and defeated. With mascara smeared across my face, hubby decided it might be best to grab a couple drinks together at our favorite spot down the road where I could regale hubby with my angry and sarcastic banter. Did I mention that I have the sweetest, most amazing and supportive husband? Well, that’s worth mentioning here. Also, back off ladies, he’s taken…FOR-E-VER!

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