T-minus 27 days.

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Today I had the official confirmation of the date for my full hysterectomy. On Monday, 29th July it is D-Day.

How do I feel now? Not a fucking clue.

Is it real? Absolutely not.

Am I starting to think what if? Every second of every single day.

This has never been easy. As we start the next chapter and begin to plan our wedding it is unbelievably hard to think that children may not play a role in our life.  It’s incredibly hard to think about the day a family member or friend will reveal they’re pregnant. It’s gut wrenching to know I might never be a mummy.

Honestly, I’ve probably cried everyday for the last few months. I’ve had days I’ve wanted to just curl up and give up. I’ve had days where I just want to jump in front of a bus.  I just thought what is the fucking point.

I’m trying to be positive. I’m trying to remember I only have one period to go. I’m trying to remember we will hopefully be approved for adoption.  I’m trying to remember that I have so many positive things in my life and a really exciting few years ahead. But honestly, right now, it feels like shit.

I’m 23 and having to prep my body for a full hysterectomy. I’m 23 and having to decide which HRT to try. I’m 23 and having to think about the financial impact of preserving my fertility and having this operation. I just want to be a bloody 23 year old.

I’m hoping this time next month I’ll be writing to update you that it all went smoothly and I’m now out the other side.  But we just don’t know.  We don’t know how the surgery will go or what they will find.

I just want my life back. I just want to be 23. I just want to be happy.

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