Why does my wife have "yes" written on her abdomen?

A warning: this post contains many references to "feminine" stuff. Don't read if you can't handle it!

Last Wednesday, the last day of May, Krys was at Chandler Regional Hospital for a scheduled surgery. What, you ask, was wrong with her? Well, for quite some time she was bleeding quite excessively during her period, and for far longer than usual. Her OB/GYN put her on birth control pills that were supposed to help, but they didn't. So her doctor recommended a more drastic step: an endometrial ablation, which sounds a lot less evil than what it actually is: cauterizing and removing the endometrium lining from the uterus. Fun! Along with this, he suggested she get a tubal occlusion - her tubes tied - because once the inside of the uterus has been cauterized, it's an inhospitable environment, and anything that tries to latch on will cause a miscarriage and possibly damage the host.

We talked about it for a while, but her insurance would cover it and it would not cover a vasectomy (shocking! - we need to keep the men fertile as long as possible so that they can dump their old wives and hook up with nubile girls to spawn more great Americans!). We had discussed a vasectomy last year, but decided to try birth control pills. But that option was no longer viable. Krys was pretty depressed about it, but finally we decided to do it. She could have simply waited until she reached menopause, but considering she's not yet 39, that could be years away. Considering that there were days when she had to change her pads every hour because they were soaked through, that didn't sound fun. We weren't planning on having any more kids, because she's 38 and I'm 35, and the two we have are enough of a handful, but she was still depressed. I don't mean to make light of it, but I think it's a female thing. I would be perfectly happy (well, not "happy," necessarily) getting a vasectomy, because I know we're not having any more kids and it's one way to make sure there are no "accidents." But I suppose for a mother, it's different. She was a little upset, but the thought of enduring a week and a half of heavy bleeding every month finally pushed the argument toward surgery.

She went in about three in the afternoon. I waited with her until she went in. She was a bit nervous because she had only had surgery once in her life, and that was for wisdom teeth, so this was something a bit more serious. They gave her general anesthesia, too, so that's another concern. When I joined her in the preparation room (she went in first), I could smell garlic. The nurses were apparently cooking their lunch. Krys hadn't had anything to eat since 7 in the morning and the smell was driving her nuts. She also had "yes" written on either side of her abdomen. They do this so that the doctor knows he's tying both her tubes. Some women only get one tube tied because it's damaged, so the doctor has to know! That made me laugh - I said they should draw a smiley face if that side was getting tied, and a frowny face if not. You know - jazz it up a bit! Then the nurse came in to take her away, and I went home.

Yes, I went home. What of it? They told me she was going to be in surgery for over an hour, and then in recovery for another hour, and they would call me when the surgery was finished and I could come get her. I had nothing to do at the hospital anyway. I came home and sat around - pretty much what I would do at the hospital, but at least I could talk to my mom. The hospital called about 4.15 and told me she was fine and in the recovery room, but she was pretty doped up and would take a while to come out of it. I got back to the hospital about 5, but she was still groggy. Whenever she sat up, the nurse told me, she would get green and throw up. Finally, we were ready to go about 6. Krys came home and went to bed. She dragged herself out about 9, took a few bites of toast, and went back to bed. She's been recovering ever since.

She's still in some pain, but she's feeling better. Two things bug her: she can't swim for two weeks, and the past few days it's been well over 100 degrees and the pool feels very nice (yes, I'm going in it - I'm not going to deprive myself of the one saving grace of this hellpit just because she can't!), and she can't pick up the children. Being Krys, she has picked up Norah a few times, and this morning when I took my mom to the airport she picked up Mia, which earned her some stern words from her husband. She knows better, after all - once when she picked up Norah (about 19 pounds and going up fast!), she said she "felt something pull." She has stitches in her abdomen, after all! She occasionally pisses me off, but that's why I love her! So those two things make her grumpy, but otherwise, she's fine.

It is kind of weird to know that we're never going to have another kid, and if we had been younger, we would have dealt with the bleeding in the hopes of having one more. Of course, this procedure isn't 100% guaranteed to work, so the next step would be a hysterectomy. Boy, that would suck.

Krys gets to go back to work tomorrow, which I'm sure she's not looking forward to. At least she won't be running to the bathroom ten times a day - we hope. I'm glad she got this done, but it's still a bit sad. Oh well - we have two beautiful children, and with Norah getting closer and closer to walking, two is probably enough.