Last week, something incredible happened: the first successful womb transplant was carried out in the UK. This is, of course, an incredible advancement in medicine, especially in gynaecology, which is heavily under-researched. However, the coverage was troubling.
On most outlets and social media, the story was only spoken about in connection to what it would mean for childless women. The woman who had received her sister’s womb was “looking forward to hopefully having a baby.”
The focus was, as usual, on motherhood, driving home to me how society still values being a mother above anything else women achieve.
I had a hysterectomy due to endometriosis when I was 28, and this was something I had to fight for despite living in pain for a decade – because I didn’t have children.
Doctors asked me, “But what if you meet a man who wants children?” and told me, “You’re still very young,” as if I was a naive child who hadn’t realised my own purpose was to bear children.
Even on the operating table, while waiting to go under, I was asked if I had kids.
I’m an award-winning journalist, founder of my own publication, an author, and I’ve been sober for four years, but I feel like my achievements are always placed below the women I know who have kids.
There are benefits to womb transplant surgery and the research around it. Not only would this open up so many possibilities for trans women, but it could also show us more about how bodies interact with the reproductive system, which could lead to advancements in what we know about conditions such as endometriosis and painful periods.
But there’s also the troubling fact that most innovations in gynaecological healthcare (that mostly impact women) are focused on fertility and birth. There’s less onus on how we can make conditions such as endometriosis and Polycystic Ovary Syndrome livable. Whenever I’ve researched birth control, particularly when I was looking at ways to shut off my ovaries, I was bombarded with how you can boost fertility and whether you could still get pregnant.
“We deserve much more than to be reduced to baby machines.”
On average, women still spend around eight years seeking an endometriosis diagnosis. What’s worse is that the Alliance for Endometriosis found that 42% of people with endometriosis were told their symptoms were normal by professionals, and 70% of those surveyed believe that healthcare professionals have limited awareness of the impact of endometriosis on patients’ lives. A 2020 study also found that 75.2% of patients report being misdiagnosed with another physical health (95.1%) and/or mental health condition (49.5%) before they were correctly diagnosed with endometriosis.
It took me 14 years to get a diagnosis, during which time I tried every birth control going, went through a chemical menopause twice, had a hysterectomy and then had my ovaries removed. I’m in menopause at age 34, as that was the best resort for me. Many living in gynae pain face the same battle I did of being treated like a baby factory in waiting while our pain is ignored and the causes under-researched.
Nowadays, I still get asked if I’m married or have kids, with pitying looks when I reply no to both. The well-meaning “one day, there’s still time” is replaced with awkward reassurances that it doesn’t make me any less. But when these comments come unsolicited, they do the opposite – they remind me that despite all my achievements, women are still measured by their ability to reproduce.
When I and so many other women are doing incredible things in our careers and living our true, authentic selves, we deserve much more than to be reduced to baby machines.