November is a hopeful month, full of spring and full of bumpf. And yet, this spring is grey for me, next week is Opal’s hysterectomy.

Beside her side I wish to be, but that’s not our reality. So across the planet I do wait, to hear the news of her fate.

I love my daughter with all my heart, the situation it does pick apart. Endo is the diagnosis, lifelong pain the prognosis.

Endo does her peace malign, like an internal porcupine. Pills and IUDs she’s tried, the endo has relief denied.

An operation’s always fraught, the chance of failure never naught. So I hope with all my being, a pain free future she’ll be seeing.

One should always seek an upside, and there is one that’s bona fide. A child free life is her incline, a plan no uterus can undermine.