This morning I woke up in Brisbane, staring at the hospital from my hotel window. In just one hour, I’ll be walking through those doors for surgery, and with it, the hope of a brighter tomorrow.
The past few days have been some of the hardest yet. The pain has been unrelenting, the bleeding exhausting, and the waiting has felt endless. But now, the waiting is over. The bags are packed, the drive is behind me, and the finish line is finally here.
I know endometriosis is a lifelong illness. I know there are no guarantees. But I also know what it felt like to wake up from my last operation and feel lighter, freer, more myself than I had in years. That memory is the spark I’m holding onto now, the reminder that healing, even if imperfect, is still possible.
As I sit here, nerves and hope mixing together, I feel grateful. Grateful for my family’s love, for the support of my workplace, for Joanne Lincolne who has offered me new ways forward, and for everyone who has whispered, “me too” when I’ve shared my story. I don’t carry this alone, and that gives me strength.
Today is not just another surgery. Today is a step toward relief. A step toward life. A step toward more moments where I can simply be me.
Whatever tomorrow looks like, I’m choosing to walk into today with hope.
The War Inside My Womb 
Leave a comment