by Ronni Dee

Created on: February 04, 2009

Endometriosis is a word that haunts my every move. It all started in my first year of becoming sexually active. Having never told my parents that I was having sex, I never sought their help or insight into what was happening to me. I would pay that price later.

I didn't know until I was in my early twenties that pain after sex was not normal. I never knew that bleeding after intercourse was a sign of a problem. Even more so, I didn't know that the pain in my lower stomach during sex was abnormal. Why? Because I never asked anyone and I never told anyone. It was like that from the first time so how was I to know?

I would have my first child at 17 years old. Some said I ruined my life and I got all the normal reactions, you know the ones, strange looks, big eyes, and the inevitable response, 'wow'. In the end, getting pregnant at a young age would eventually end up saving my life.

It all started during labor with my first child. The pain medication was not working; the epidural was useless on my left side. After finally giving birth, I had a postpartum hemorrhage, and nearly died.

At my checkup six weeks later I would start to undergo some testing. A poke here, a prod there, and sonograms everywhere. I would eventually learn that I had ovarian cysts and pre-cancer cells on my ovaries and cervix. Have no fear, my doctor was awesome. A freeze and a scrape and about an hour of other things in office, I was cured, for the time being.

A few years go bye, meanwhile my periods are getting heavier and heavier. Three or four super tampons in an hour weren't uncommon. I would have my 'period' for six weeks, then not get anything but spotting for two or three months. I still had pain during sex, and after, and I still bled afterwards, but again, I thought I was okay.

Then came time for me to leave for the military. I had been bleeding for six weeks and really didn't want to be hemorrhaging for my first day of boot camp. I called my doctor who instructed me to take a pregnancy test. Yeah, right, I thought. I have my period for six weeks how can I be pregnant?

EPT didn't lie. There was no mistaking that big plus sign. I called the doctor back and he told me to meet him at the hospital. Few more pokes and prods and I would find out that not only was I pregnant, but the baby had died. This sparked a lot more interest in my sex life and symptoms with my doctor.

About a year later, when nothing else was working, I had what they called an exploratory surgery. They went in through my belly

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