For Beth Simpson, Mother’s Day serves as a reminder of a life she can’t enjoy after a doctor ignored a crippling medical problem which had been impacting her for years
After constantly being dismissed, 34-year-old Beth Simpson finally found out she had endometriosis. But, by the time the Senior Commercial Finance Manager from Runcorn had a diagnosis, she was devastatingly unable to have children.
However, she says if there had been more research and early intervention, then she might still be able to. Reflecting on her health battle, she said: “Each Mother’s Day serves as a poignant reminder of how my journey has prevented me from experiencing being a mum. Living with endometriosis was incredibly debilitating. For years, I spent about three days a month unable to do normal activities, confined to my bed, trying to ease the pain with hot water bottles.
READ MORE: ‘I was absolutely terrified I’d never walk again – now I’m running the London marathon’
“As time went on, the pain worsened, and it began to consume my life entirely. I’d find myself planning around the next dose of painkillers, wondering if it was time to visit A&E because the intensity of the pain could be so terrifying. Balancing work, a social life, and simply trying to maintain some sense of normalcy amidst the pain felt isolating. Fortunately, I had a supportive network that helped me get through those tough times.
“For the first three to four years, I suspected I might have endometriosis, but the medical system largely ignored my concerns. The only solution offered was hormonal contraception, which wasn’t viable for me due to its impact on my mental health.
“Endometriosis affected every aspect of my daily life. During my worst symptoms, I often felt as though life was unbearable. The pain was relentless, and nothing could truly alleviate it. Before surgery, painkillers and hot water bottles were my only options—solutions that felt inadequate given the severity of the disease. I’d often cancel plans with friends, desperately try to push through work, I often wonder how I managed to get through some of those darkest times.”
She added: “I’d wake up in the middle of the night, crying in pain, and having to wait hours for the next dose of medication to offer any relief. I spent countless nights in the bath, scalding myself in an attempt to soothe the burning and stabbing sensations.”
Beth admits it was a constant battle and said the isolation was “crushing”. She added: “Every decision, from taking days off work to whether I should try to sleep through the pain or push through it, felt exhausting. The word that sums it up best is ‘relentless’.’”
After pushing for doctors to investigate the issue for years, Beth was eventually scanned and referred to an endometriosis specialist. “I vividly remember my first appointment with him. He was candid about my diagnosis—stage four endometriosis, with two large endometriomas. My fallopian tubes were irreparably damaged, and my ovaries, bowel, and womb were all adhered to each other in what’s known as a frozen pelvis. That’s when the severity of the disease truly hit me. I understood its potential impact on my fertility, and I realised that major surgeries, like bowel resections, could lie ahead.”
The diagnosis was heartbreaking for Beth, but she also felt a sense of relief that she finally had a reason for her agony. She noted: “The pain I’d been experiencing was cyclical, so I’d sometimes question if it was as bad as I thought or if I was exaggerating. After years of being dismissed by doctors and made to feel like I was coping poorly compared to other women, having a clear diagnosis felt validating.
“It was a moment of reassurance that I wasn’t losing my mind—there really was something wrong. But that relief was quickly followed by grief. I began to realise what I stood to lose, and now what I have lost, and that reality was devastating. The emotional toll of knowing that endometriosis can never truly be ‘cured’ means constant anxiety about what the future holds. The fear of the disease returning, along with the possibility of more surgeries, is a constant in the back of my mind, affecting how I plan and live my life.”
Beth needed surgery to remove two large endometriomas in 2022, then 18 months later, a routine MRI revealed a 22cm mass in her abdomen, which sparked cancer concerns. She said: “After further evaluation, I underwent another surgery—this time a radical hysterectomy at the age of 34. The mass turned out to be another large endometrioma, not cancer, but the outcome left me infertile and devastated.
“Now, my treatment involves HRT patches to manage menopause, alongside counselling to cope with the profound emotional impact of that surgery. Unfortunately, treatment options for endometriosis remain limited, and any future flare-ups could require additional surgery, which doesn’t feel like a sustainable or appropriate solution to such a common but debilitating disease.”
Reflecting on her health journey, Beth gets upset at the fact her fertility could have been saved if someone had taken her pain more seriously in the first place. She added: “I might have been able to preserve my fertility. It wasn’t until after my full diagnosis that I was even given the option to explore fertility preservation, but by then, it was too late.
“There’s a sense of grief that comes from feeling robbed of choices—choices that might have altered the course of my life. The lack of information and support for fertility options during the earlier years of my diagnosis is something I still struggle to comprehend.
“While physically, I’m in a better place, the mental impacts of this disease will stay with me forever. Counselling has helped me deal with the grief, but I will always wonder ‘what if.’”
READ MORE: Taylor Swift-approved New Balance trainers are now on sale with up to 60% off in flash spring sale
