After the birth of my fourth child, I developed pelvic pain that I was told was normal and temporary. “It will fade,” they said.
It never did.
When I was pregnant with my fifth child, the pain intensified. I received cortisone injections in the pubic bone area for what was labeled “lightning crotch.” After delivery, the pain continued. But because I was no longer pregnant, I was no longer eligible for treatment. Again, I was told it would improve with time.
It didn’t.
For ten years, I lived in constant pelvic pain. Around the clock. Every day. There were no breaks in my cycle and no periods of relief.
I developed a partial prolapse but was told it was not severe enough for surgery. I had to push for a partial hysterectomy because I knew my uterus had become a major source of my suffering. Approval was not simple. It required persistence, documentation, and proof that I had exhausted other options.
Living in untreated pain for a decade changes a person.
Over the past year, my nervous system began to collapse under the strain. During menopause transition, I asked for hormone therapy. Instead, I was prescribed an antidepressant. The medication destabilized me severely.
I developed hypervigilance. My weight fluctuated. My thinking became rigid beyond my autistic baseline. Eventually, I developed a movement disorder. I was repeatedly told my anxiety was psychological and that I did not understand my own body.
But my body was sending clear signals.
A week ago, I underwent a partial hysterectomy and posterior vaginal wall repair. The pathology report showed endometriosis and both acute and chronic cervicitis. These are established chronic pain conditions.
For ten years, the evidence was inside me.
From the day of surgery, something shifted. The hypervigilance quieted. The constant internal threat response lifted. My body feels calm instead of combative.
I was not imagining it. My pain was real.
The pathology confirmed what I had known all along.
Too often, patients with chronic pelvic pain are told to wait, to cope, or to accept partial answers. Surgical thresholds, insurance approval requirements, and fragmented women’s health care can stretch suffering across years. When pain is minimized or mischaracterized, the consequences are not only physical. They are neurological, emotional, and economic.
Listening sooner would have changed everything.
My Motivation:
I have two daughters who may one day face their own hormonal transitions and pelvic health challenges. I am sharing my story so they know that persistent pain deserves investigation, not dismissal. Endometriosis can run in families. Earlier awareness, earlier evaluation, and earlier intervention can change outcomes.