The War Inside My Womb

Each day feels like a lifetime, but the finish line is finally in sight.

September 23rd. Brisbane.

That date has become everything to me. My anchor, my finish line, my lifeline. Every time the pain feels unbearable, every time the bleeding drains the strength out of me, I whisper it like a mantra: just make it to the 23rd.

Waiting is its own kind of torture. I wake up each morning and wonder how much longer I can push through. I drag my body through another day knowing relief is close, yet still out of reach. I fear what the surgeons might find, and I hold a fragile hope that this operation could give me more than another short window of peace.

I am not naive. I know there is no quick fix and there are no guarantees. But I also remember what it felt like to live two years without constant agony. Two years where I felt like myself again. I am holding on to the belief that I can have that back.

This waiting room of life, stuck between unbearable pain and the hope of healing, is one of the hardest places I have ever been. But I keep reminding myself that the days are ticking down. The 23rd is coming. Help is coming.

This week, I have also been reminded of the love and support that still surrounds me. My mum came and stayed the night, and then spent the day with me. Those hours together brought me comfort I didn’t realise how much I needed. Sitting with her, talking, just being in her presence grounded me and gave me strength to keep going.

I also connected with Joanne Lincolne today, a holistic health coach who specialises in endometriosis. She has lived through this battle too, and she understands the frustration, the confusion, and the pain in a way only someone who has walked this road can.

Over the next 10 months, Jo will walk alongside me, helping me listen to my body in new ways and guiding me to find tools and strategies that will support my healing after surgery. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I don’t have to carry this weight alone.

If you are curious to learn more about her approach, you can visit her website here: https://www.jolincolnewellness.com/

When that day arrives, I will walk into the operating room carrying not just my pain, but also the strength I have borrowed from others who understand — and the love of those who stand beside me.

I am not alone. You are not alone. We are counting down together.