08/05/2026
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share this publicly, but if it helps even one woman feel less alone, it’ll be worth it.
I kissed my uterus, and all her baggage, goodbye yesterday 😘
Having worked with women’s hormones for several years now, I spend a lot of time helping others navigate their health. But when it came to making this decision for myself, it wasn’t as simple as I once assumed.
This surgery wasn’t just about one thing. My symptoms included irregular cycles, pelvic pain, and painful sex—things I had been trying to understand and manage for a while.
On ultrasound, they found adenomyosis (the likely cause), and I was also diagnosed with fibroids.
I’ll be honest—I initially took that diagnosis very personally. I found myself wondering what I had done “wrong.”
Had my diet not been good enough? Had I been too lax about certain exposures? Should I have done something differently?
And if I’m being completely honest… after years of disappointment, there was a part of me that felt like my uterus was giving me one final middle finger at the end of her stay.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. The very organ that had carried so many hopes, dreams, and memories was also the source of so much pain and uncertainty.
As someone who has spent years studying women’s health, hormones, nutrition, and lifestyle factors, this was a humbling reminder that knowledge does not always equal control.
Our choices matter. How we nourish ourselves, move our bodies, manage stress, and reduce harmful exposures can support our health—but it does not make us immune from biology, genetics, aging, or conditions we don’t fully understand.
I’ve had to work through letting go of that self-blame and accepting that women’s health is far more complex than that.
I knew this was the right decision medically.
What surprised me was the emotion.
After years of infertility, including secondary infertility, I thought I had already grieved the idea of having more children.
I thought.
But there’s something about saying goodbye to a part of your body that has carried so many hopes, dreams, and memories. The right decision can still come with sadness. Relief and grief can exist at the same time.
I cried when I saw my final negative pregnancy test right before surgery. If I had a dime for every negative test I’ve seen over the years… 💔
Then came ALL the tears in recovery. God bless my PACU nurse, who gently reminded me that everything I was feeling was completely normal ❤️🩹
I’m incredibly grateful for the OR team who cared for me. After spending so many years working side by side with OR nurses and surgical teams, it was a very different feeling to be the one on the table. They made me feel safe, cared for, and surrounded by people who truly understood.
I was fortunate to know my anesthesia provider (and specifically requested her), and I had complete confidence in the surgeon I chose.
I’m sharing this because I know I’m not the only woman who has walked this road—not just infertility, but also perimenopause, symptoms that haven’t always been heard or validated, postpartum experiences, and thoughts we don’t always feel safe saying out loud.
If you’re struggling with symptoms affecting your quality of life, don’t settle. Ask questions. Find a provider who listens. Explore your options. Every woman’s journey is different.
I’m incredibly grateful for my village—especially my IF Table girls, who watched me ugly cry in a coffee shop not too long ago. I had been carrying so much of this quietly, sharing it mostly with my husband, and I didn’t realize how healing it would be to finally say it out loud.
For now, my job is to rest, heal, and be patient with my body (if you know me, you know that’s a lot to ask 😅)
Here’s to the next chapter — one with less pain, more freedom, and a whole lot of gratitude for the body that carried me here 💜
