Real Talk: Hemorrhoid Hell + My Journey to Surgery and Beyond
“Can you take a look at my butt? Just tell me if my hemorrhoids look like I need to be seen? I mean if it won’t make you look at me differently for the rest of our lives. I can look at them with my phone, but I just need another opinion.”
My husband and I have been married for going on eleven years. He has seen me birth our son, helped me recover from surgeries, held my hair while I vomited for months with HG, and still the thought of him looking at my butthole filled me with such a huge amount of shame.
Have you ever watched This Is 40? This scene kept popping into my head.
In the middle of our living room, I spread my cheeks and shined a light so he could see holding back tears.
“It doesn’t look bad, it just looks like a second vulva, literally.”
Yep, they absolutely look like a vulva. Welcome to stage four, prolapsed hemorrhoids.
My first hemorrhoid showed up giving birth to our son Jack. During transition we lost his heartbeat and in the brouhaha of trying to find it I was shoved on my back, my ankles were thrown behind my head, as they screamed at me to push.
As they were looking for tears the midwife looked up between my legs and said, your vagina is fine but your bottom is going to have some issues.
Nine years later and here I am, with my second “vulva.”
Pooping is a whole new dystopian nightmare where I imagine all of us with hemorrhoids sit wiping for 15 minutes to make sure we get off the toilet with a clean butt. We’re always wondering if we started our period when we look at the toilet paper and see the blood. Sex in any position that shows our butt leads to serious anxiety and a weird uncomfortable feeling every time we sweat is the norm.
Since opening up about my hemorrhoids I have found out of there are so many of us worried, embarrassed, and feeling like we are alone. So here is my small contribution to our community.
Over the next thirty days, I will document my process of going through a hemorrhoidectomy. Blog posts, videos, photos. I’m terrified. But it’s time to get these suckers removed and try to turn this journey into a positive by sharing it with all of you.
Make sure to follow over on the Candor Magazine Facebook page for updates and to cheer me on when needed, I’m quite sure I’m going to need the village.