I lost my Uterus but found hope for other women

By Hedwig Arinaitwe

A 2023 report by World Health Organization shows that about 287,000 women died during and following pregnancy and childbirth in 2020 worldwide. Doreen Mbabazi is one of the survivors of maternal complications trauma, and now she wants to save more women.

‘’I am celebrating my 30^th birthday this December and for me it feels like a testament of victory’’.

Mbabazi underwent hysterectomy (removal of the womb) in 2020 at 27 years of age, due to after births complications, but today she wears a vibrant smile of hope for others.

Mbabazi was traditionally married to her husband and they lived a happy life until her Labour day came. Like any other woman ready to deliver, Mbabazi left home excited, hopeful, and ready to push her baby. When time came and she started to push, she was interrupted halfway by the midwife who said she wouldn’t make it, and was being taken for a caesarean. 

Mbabazi recalls this exact moment because it came as a shock to her. She remembers a similar experience in 2018, when she experienced a miscarriage at six months. At nine O’clock in the night, she was operated and heard the doctor’s whisper among themselves that the baby had died. Then she heard another doctor say she is bleeding too much. She remembers her body being so numb and everything hazy except the voices.

‘’When they brought me out I heard someone say to me that I am supposed to sign because this time they were taking me back to remove the uterus.  Someone held my hand and helped me sign. All this I could hear in bits but unconsciously,’’ she retells.

Mbabazi was taken back to the theatre for the second time, and her uterus removed because per the surgeon’s report, her uterus was raptured.

“I went into coma for about three days and when I woke up I realized I was in ICU. During this time my husband had known I was at the hospital and he came. He was the person who told me clearly that I had lost my uterus and when it hit my ears I fainted.’’

 For a woman who had gone to welcome her baby after nine months of waiting, Mbabazi was now battling to save her life amidst losing her womb.

When she regained consciousness, the doctors suggested that she is taken to theatre the third time to remove the mops and cotton.

‘’The doctor encouraged me to be strong but this timely the wounds seemed fresh and the pain was unbearable. My husband left after delivering the news that evening and I was admitted for one week. Then it hit me that I was never going to have a child on my own, so I started wailing while in ICU. The doctors always consoled me saying that I will get children but I need to recover first. During this time the hospital tried as much to reach my husband but he was never available, I don’t know why he was never there but I imagined he was equally shocked,’’ she sadly reveals.

Mbabazi started her recovery journey but all this time her only concern was how to have children again.  She was discharged and briefed by a doctor about how she had lost her uterus, which shouldn’t be a big point of worry because there was a chance at surrogacy. The doctor was optimistic that her husband would support her all the way and she felt relieved.

She was nursed at her parents’ home for a month, until her husband came to take her home.  He promised to take care of me, help me heal and protect me in front of my mother and siblings.

‘’The first two weeks were calm; my husband was supporting me until he started calling his relatives about my situation. This followed with him coming in the wee hours of the night, then he started to declare how he wanted a new woman to marry who could bear him children.  He started [increasingly] drinking, not eating at home and when I tried to talk about it, his response was your stressing me,’’ she recalls.

Mbabazi’s once loving husband was now her issue of worry. He didn’t want friends near her. One day a friend came from far to check on her upon hearing the news of her health but her husband forbid the visit. His conclusion was that friends were teaching her bad habits.  That particular friend got accommodation in a hotel and when Mbabazi visited her husband found out and sent her packing.

‘’He told me to pack my things along with many demeaning words and abuses about how I don’t give birth and have no uterus. I packed immediately because I was scared of what more he could do to me. Several nights while in bed, he would call other women saying he is lonely and needed to marry. This was not new because he had been doing it emphasizing that I need to leave and give space to women who can bear children. We got into the car and started moving around five in the evening, then suddenly he started slapping me saying that he is doing me a favor to stay with a woman with no uterus,’’ Mbabazi pauses as she narrates.

Mbabazi’s husband was a man of stature in society, in a big position, educated and very knowledgeable about the laws against domestic violence. This was not the first time he had beaten her. He had done it before while she was eight months pregnant, and in the presence of fellow women.

Friends intervened and her husband apologized but nothing changed after that. He would suggest that a dead person like Mbabazi didn’t deserve to live in his house. 

“After a while we relocated to Kampala as a work obligation and after a few weeks he broke it to me that he cannot take care of me anymore. Hell broke loose for me because I had no job. He had stopped providing food at home but because I was depressed, food was not part of my worries,’’ she recollects.

Like they say ‘’what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’’. Mbabazi started looking for a job and a friend connected her to a cashier role.

‘’I started working and I was delivering but I was extremely traumatized. I would cry in the office; I couldn’t sleep at night for almost two weeks. Then I got the news that my husband had engaged a new woman, and this was the final lap for me. I was so stressed that I couldn’t concentrate and when I asked a colleague for solutions he recommended alcohol specifically VA, and he went ahead to buy me a bottle. But this was not my kind of lifestyle. The following weeks I developed ulcers, my blood pressure shot up and headaches became the order of the day,’’ Mbabazi shakes her head as she narrates.

 In 2022, Mbabazi reconnected with an old friend through Facebook, fortunately his wife was a therapist. She listened to her and scheduled therapy sessions, and this is how her recovery journey started.

The therapist friend introduced her to a program where people share their experiences, and are supported by a community of professionals who have undergone similar experiences.

Mbabazi hugely relates her recovery to friends who supported her both financially emotionally, provided a place to stay and helped her get back on her feet.

‘’These friends I had gone to school with would take turns to cook for me, keep me entertained and even collected money for me to start a new life,’’ she reveals.

Often when people go through trauma, they feel unheard and not understood. This is exactly how Mbabazi felt because even when she sought help from doctors, they didn’t listen much. I asked how someone could have helped her then.

‘’I wish someone listened, it’s all I wanted. Someone to listen to me well and say it’s going to be okay, it’s all I wanted. But everyone seemed to have their own piece of advice.

What is that one thing that you believe made the healing journey quicker?

Talking about my experience has tremendously healed me, imagine now I talk about this and shade no tear. Time heals but sharing heals even faster.

When asked about her plans, Mbabazi smiles widely as if to signal big dreams.

‘’What happened to me was like a calling to purpose, after going through it all my passion now is to help women with my same experiences who are scared to start over. Mbabazi wishes hospitals could provide counselling sessions for couples who experience hysterectomy, to eliminate issues of domestic violence.

Mbabazi started a popcorn making business in Nsambya, which she generates money for her rent and basic essentials. She reveals that every day she saves Ug20,000 after the expenses.  Mbabazi is not ashamed of her small business even though she is a graduate, she confirms she is applying for jobs but she can’t just sit and wait.

‘’As long as a woman is empowered, anything is possible. Many women are scared to leave abusive relationships because they don’t believe they can survive on their own’’, Mbabazi says.

She concludes: “If God makes it possible I would love to help women, who have suffered the same fate even if it is financially, until then I will use my voice’’.