A Quiet Moment
With God

Hi, I’m Tatiana, the heart behind It Is Well In My Breaking and the creative behind Zaylea Creations. I’m a South African wife, married to my hubby, JP, and I share parts of my health journey as That One Endo Girl. Faith, creativity and caring about people are part of the life I’m trying to keep living through everything my body is facing.

My health story began long before my endometriosis surgery. In 2011, I went through a frightening childhood hospitalisation and months of rehabilitation to learn to walk again. When my periods started in December 2013, they were already heavy, painful and long, but I thought that was normal. Over the years, the bleeding, nausea and pain affected more and more of my life. My first laparoscopy in 2021 confirmed endometriosis and a cyst. Some digestive symptoms improved for a while, but the pelvic and nerve pain didn’t simply disappear.

By 2025, ordinary things like eating, walking, sitting and resting could be painful. I was using crutches, living with burning, stabbing and electric pain, and trying to explain what was happening in a body that often looked fine from the outside. Before my December operation, our surgeon explained that I had Stage 4 neuropathic endometriosis, with nerve involvement and organs stuck together by adhesions. My uterus, bladder, intestines and surrounding tissues couldn’t move freely. There were also cervical changes needing monitoring, and adenomyosis was raised for investigation. Being listened to and taken seriously meant so much to JP and me.

On 15 December 2025, I had my 2nd endometriosis operation. It was extensive surgery to treat the disease and separate affected organs and tissues, and my appendix was removed. We had hoped so deeply for relief, and getting to that day was only possible because people prayed, gave, shared our story and helped carry us. Surgery was an important part of my journey, but it wasn’t the end of everything my body was facing.

The weeks after surgery were incredibly difficult. In our recovery updates, we shared how swelling, cramping, burning pain and weakness made eating and moving a battle. At times, even very soft food and liquids caused pain. I’ve described being able to physically feel how sore and swollen my intestines were, and days when breathing, talking or singing hurt too. Later updates have still included intestinal pain, food struggles and learning what my body can manage. Recovery hasn’t followed a neat, straight line.

There’s an emotional side to this too. I’ve spoken about feeling unheard and unsafe during parts of my hospital stay, and about the fear, nightmares and anxiety I carried afterwards. We’ve been addressing our concerns through the appropriate channels, and there are details I’m not ready to discuss. Going quiet has never meant I stopped caring or feeling grateful. Sometimes I’ve simply needed my energy for healing, therapy, rest and getting through the day. I’m learning about forgiveness while keeping the boundaries I need, because forgiving doesn’t mean pretending something didn’t hurt or that it was okay.

Chronic illness has brought a quiet grief for versions of myself, plans and ordinary moments I’ve missed. I’ve also carried grief around a suspected pregnancy loss, and I’m still bringing my hope of having a child to God. I have hopes for our marriage, our family and our future, including something as simple and precious as being able to dance with my hubby. JP’s care, our family, Peanut and the people who love me have helped carry days I couldn’t manage alone.

To everyone who has prayed, donated, shared, messaged, checked in or simply held us in your hearts, thank you. Our fundraiser was about more than the money. There was worship, family, friendship and a community helping us hold onto hope, even while we were frightened. I sang that evening despite feeling weak and shaky, and it became a moment of peace in the middle of everything. The kindness people showed us is part of this story, and I’ll always be grateful.

Creativity still means so much to me. Through Zaylea Creations, I work on business documents, branding, marketing designs, publications and personal projects, with care for the little details that make something meaningful. On That One Endo Girl, I also share everyday life, moments with JP, honest recovery updates and the small things that help me feel like myself. I’m learning to work within what my body can manage, and needing rest or help doesn’t take away the ideas, abilities and hopes God has given me.

I’m still asking God to heal my body, and I’m going to keep asking. Being sick doesn’t mean I’ve done something wrong or failed Him, and healing isn’t something I have to earn. I’ve felt His love again in ways I honestly struggle to put into words, and I’ve found encouragement in my family too. There are days when the symptoms feel bigger than my strength, but I keep bringing the tears, questions, gratitude and praise to Him. Faith over fear is something I keep choosing in the middle of it all.

Psalm 46 has a special place in my heart, including the words “God is within her” from Psalm 46:5. In the Psalm, those words describe God’s city. I return to the whole Psalm for its picture of God as our refuge and strength amid trouble. I’ve also shared Psalm 31:7 as a reminder that God sees suffering and cares about the anguish we carry. The peace I’ve experienced in Him can sit alongside the pain and the questions that still need answers.

Through It Is Well In My Breaking, I share what I’m learning about Jesus, prayer and bringing our whole hearts to Him. I want my story to speak about Him as honestly as it speaks about my pain, and I want women living with illnesses like mine to feel heard. My hope is that this little garden gives you somewhere to pause, pray and come to Him exactly as you are. Pain has affected so much of my life. Jesus still has my heart. That’s what I mean when I say, it is well in my breaking.