Porsha Williams Opens Up About Emergency Hysterectomy and Fibroids

I always wanted four kids. I have three siblings and always pictured a big family of my own. That first diagnosis and miscarriage were the first signs it might not happen, but after Pilar, I did start to imagine having one more. I’m an older mom, but I had the right support system and financial stability. I felt optimistic.

I already knew what it felt like to grieve a pregnancy. With my first miscarriage, I was four months along and had already been told I only had a couple more weeks with that pregnancy. I even tried going vegan, thinking I could somehow starve the fibroids, and lost 10 to 15 pounds while pregnant. It still ended with me miscarrying at home, alone.

Waking up and grieving the dream of more kids felt close to that same level of devastation. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, since I do have Pilar, but privately I grieved the possibility of another child. But I also had to thank God I found out I was carrying that many fibroids at all, because quality of life is everything, and I hadn’t realized what I’d been missing until I found out. It really was a blessing in disguise.

Now I take snapshots of every single moment with my daughter. I’m even more present, more grateful, because when I look at her, I see a true miracle. I’ve always called her my lifesaver, since she gave me my purpose, and now that feels even more true. I really was chosen to be her mom.

Seeing pictures of the fibroids sent me into shock. It looked like something out of a horror film. I sent it straight to my mom and leaned on her, my sister, the people closest to me. When it came to the hysterectomy specifically, I reached out to a few friends who I knew had had one, and I learned it’s far more common than I realized.

But sitting with it, I realized speaking up could actually make a difference, maybe helping save a young girl from a myomectomy, a miscarriage, or a hysterectomy of her own. If I could give even one woman more power to ask questions and speak up in a doctor’s office, I knew I had to talk about it. I’m not ashamed anymore, and I want to use every platform I have.

Women have every reason to feel nervous stepping into the American health care system, but when you’re informed, you can speak up, and you can be trusted and heard. There’s life after a hysterectomy, after a miscarriage, after any of the hard things we go through as women, and there’s real power in community.