Three-Month Post-Op Update: A Second Chance at Movement
It’s officially been three months since surgery, and I can’t believe how far I’ve come. Honestly, it feels like a lifetime ago that I was in excruciating pain, bloated, exhausted, and unsure if I’d ever feel normal again. These last few weeks have given me something I hadn’t felt in years: freedom in movement.
I’m running again, only 1–2 days per week, still in intervals, but I’m running without obsessing over my heart rate or worrying that I’ll trigger pelvic pain, nausea, or that “bowling ball” pressure in my abdomen. The same goes for pickleball. I’ve started playing once a week with friends, and to move freely without anxiety or post-activity pain feels nothing short of incredible.
Those two things, running and playing, might sound small, but after so many years of pain, they mean everything. I’ve truly felt like I’ve gotten a second chance at doing the things that make me feel alive and bring me joy.
I don’t think I’m alone in this, but as a mom and business owner in my 40s, I’m realizing how easy it is to let joy get buried under responsibility. I grew up playing sports and being active, and I’ve missed that spark. So I’m on a mission this year to play more, not just with my kids, but with my friends and for myself. I want to find that lightness again, that sense of play that movement brings. You may find me on the pickleball court, learning to golf (in hopes of enjoying retirement with my husband someday!), or maybe even taking a dance class. Whatever it looks like, I’m saying yes to more joy through movement.
Physically, I’m still rebuilding my strength. My back is doing better, my core is just weak (to be expected), and I’m focused on steady, smart strength training to stay strong and avoid new injuries as I get back to higher-intensity movement.
I’m also continuing to learn more about how nutrition and hormones affect my recovery and overall well-being. I’m happy to report that my numbers are within normal limits again! This is a personal decision, but I feel better with HRT—it feels like I’m giving myself more brain and heart protection, too. I wasn’t thrilled about going into medical menopause at 39 years old, but now that I have HRT working for me, I’m not as worried about it.
I’m also on a journey to improve my sleep, which I’ve struggled with since I was a teenager. Over the last year, I started tracking macros on and off—it helped me lose some weight (still working on that in a sustainable, healthy way)—but more recently, I’ve been getting more detailed about my training schedule, cortisol fluctuations, blood sugar, eating habits, and sleep patterns. Some weeks, I’ll sleep well through the night for several days, even up to a week (which is a big improvement—and I think HRT has been helping most with this), but then there are other nights when I wake up wide awake for hours in the middle of the night. It feels like a cortisol spike, so I started researching it.
Like so many others, I had been increasing my protein and watching my calories (especially during the week), but I was also unintentionally keeping carbs and fat low. I knew intuitively that fat and carbs were essential for brain and hormone health, but I wasn’t listening to my own advice. Over the last week, I’ve shifted focus: intentionally eating carbs and fat according to my goals, restructuring my workout schedule to include true rest days (not “I’ll just walk 6 miles instead” kind of rest), and strategically increasing carbs around my training.
One simple change that’s helped the most? A carb-heavy bedtime snack about 45 minutes before sleep. Honestly, I’m sleeping better since adding this. I’m hesitant to say it’s all working yet, but I’m trusting the process and the science, not letting scale fluctuations throw me off. It’s been a good reminder that restrictive eating patterns, even when done with the best intentions, can sometimes backfire, impacting sleep, recovery, and overall health. For anyone dealing with chronic pain or limited activity, it’s so easy to rely solely on diet to feel “healthy,” but sometimes that mindset can be more restrictive than restorative.
I’m leaning into nourishment, balance, and recovery—and I feel hopeful.
I’m still having occasional deep right lower abdominal pain, a “pulling” sensation almost, mostly with deep right hip flexion, coughing, and core activation or even just lying on my left side. At this point, it could be fascial or connective tissue healing, or possibly related to pelvic congestion. The positional changes have me questioning a venous cause more than musculoskeletal. It’s something I’ll be discussing with my doctor at my upcoming follow-up. Interestingly, it flared up more when I had COVID, which hit hard about two months post-op.
That brings me to another lesson learned: if you’ve had a stent placed, especially for May-Thurner Syndrome, it’s important to talk to your doctor about your risk after illness or vaccination. My surgeon had instructed me that if I ever got COVID or the vaccine within the first year post-op, I’d need to go back on Eliquis (a blood thinner) for one month. That’s exactly what I did and while COVID made travel a bit stressful, I was grateful to know the protocol. I finish that course tomorrow and will transition back to baby aspirin until my next clearance.
COVID definitely set me back for a couple of weeks; the fatigue, coughing, and heart rate fluctuations flared some old symptoms, but now, three weeks out, I’m feeling steadier again.
Right now, my workouts look like this:
Running: 5 x 5-minute intervals with 1-minute walks between sets
Strength training & PT-based workouts: 4x/week to keep my foundation strong
Pickleball: 1x/week
Cycling: 1x/week
Daily walking: 10–13k steps
Daily yoga/mobility
Structured recovery!
Mentally, I’m in a really good place. I’m back to a full work schedule, back to fitness, back to family time and I’m no longer living in fear of pain dictating my days. I still get the occasional reminder that my body is healing, but I feel strong, capable, and grounded again.
I’m also realistic…I’m not done healing. I want more progress. I want to push myself harder. I want to be out of breath, working as hard as I can, and not even thinking about my pelvic pain. But if this is as good as it gets, I’m okay with that too.
Still… I’m hopeful. I believe there’s more ahead.
