What No One Tells You About Waiting for Surgery

When we talk about medical journeys, especially something as major as a hysterectomy, we often focus on two things:

1. The moment of diagnosis

2. The post-surgery recovery

But there’s a space in between those two - the waiting - that often goes unspoken.

It’s a space full of uncertainty, invisible fear, and questions you never thought you'd be asking.
And yet, it’s in that waiting that many women face their most quiet and personal battles.

 You’ve said “yes,” but nothing feels certain

The tests are done. The doctor has explained the procedure. The date is scheduled.
You’ve agreed.
You’ve signed the form.

And now?

You’re just… waiting.

Waiting for the day you’ll walk into the hospital.
Waiting for a call.
Waiting for peace that doesn’t come.

You tell yourself:

“I should feel relieved. I’m finally getting help.”

But instead, you feel like you’re walking through fog, unsure where to place your next step.

 Your mind becomes louder than your pain

Even though your body still aches, the pain is suddenly not the loudest part.

Now your brain won’t stop whispering:

• “What if something goes wrong?”

• “Will I wake up the same?”

• “Will people take care of me afterward?”

• “Will I still feel like a woman?”

No one talks about how quietly terrifying this part can be.
Because you’re not just preparing your body.
You’re preparing your identity.

You feel caught between two versions of yourself

• The you before surgery, who is used to managing pain, tiptoeing through discomfort, and wearing a strong face.

• And the you after surgery, who is still unknown - blurry, maybe healthier, maybe lighter, maybe changed.

That gap, that not-quite-before, not-quite-after place, can feel like a void.
You're mourning something while hoping for something better at the same time.
And that duality can be emotionally exhausting.

 If you feel stuck in the waiting…

Please hear this:

You are not lazy.
You are not overthinking.
You are not weak for feeling anxious, sad, numb, or uncertain.

You are simply a human being processing the enormity of what your body is about to go through.

You’re grieving the part of you that’s gone through years of pain.
You’re anxious about handing over your body to strangers in surgical gowns.
You’re trying to stay calm for others while holding your own fear in your chest.

And none of that makes you any less brave.

 What you can do in the meantime 

If the wait is stretching your nerves thin, here are small, gentle things that might help:

🖋️ Write letters to your body - thank it for what it’s endured so far.
🎧 Make a recovery playlist - one that feels safe, strong, and soft.
📦 Prepare your space - cozy blankets, favorite snacks, books that feel like friends.
📞 Talk to someone who’s been there - sometimes healing starts with being understood.
🤍 Say this out loud: “It’s okay to be scared. I’m still strong.”

 Recovery starts long before surgery

The moment you decided to say yes to healing?
That was brave.
That was recovery.
That was the beginning.

And soon, this waiting will become a memory, the before part of your healing story.
You’ll walk into that surgery room as one version of yourself and walk out as someone who finally chose relief over silence.

And that’s something to be proud of.