Is this ironic?

One of the post op side effects / inconveniences since having had the hysterectomy and excision of the endometriosis is that my abdomen bloats. Every day.

I wake up with a flat stomach. By tea time it is roughly the size of my belly with a fully inflated football in it. In a bit of a Rab C Nesbitt fashion, I suppose, I find myself sitting on the sofa, with my trousers unbuttoned to be comfortable. It's not dignified in the slightest.

This problem isn't weight / body fat. It's something to do with tissue healing I believe and it is likelY to continue for months. If I don't do anything all day, it isn't quite so bad of an evening. But if I do anything at all, it escalates the problem. By anything, I mean standing up, driving short distances...normal things. If I swim or go to the gym, gain two dress sizes by the end of the day.

So I am supposed to be at 'normal' activity levels aside from a limit on lifting and an acceptance that fatigue is going to be a big part of my life for the next few months as well. I am being told to swim, to go to the gym and to walk, get out, build up my stamina, because that will help my long term recovery. But the things that will help me in the long term cause me short term distress and discomfort. Rock, hard place.

The thing is is that I have realised these last few days that I have become a fantastic liar in the last few months. I tell everyone I am ok. But I am not ok, not all of the time...in fact I find myself in dark places in my head because I had expectations of my recovery and of myself that have not yet come to pass. I expected to be fit and well. I was sold on the line that the removal of the offending organs would offer a speedy resolution to my physical pain and emotional distress. This has turned out not to be the case. No fault of anyone, just that's how it is turning out.

So, today, in order to gain some comfort in the evenings, I decided to get some trousers and tops that would allow me to bloat, but still feel comfortable and not look like a dowdy slob. The solution is maternity clothes. Oh, the irony...to find that the way to resolve my fashion issues is to wear clothes that are for women in the early to mid stages of pregnancy...and the reason for this is the removal of all of the parts of me that would ever have enabled me to experience pregnancy again.

When I had a choice about having more children, I chose not to. I would still choose not to, if I had a choice. But the removal of choice, by my agreement, has left me more emotionally drained than I thought it would. I have cried a lot today. More than I have cried at all in the last few months.

My poor GP is going to be faced with a bit of a wreck tomorrow. Long suffering woman!