Life with a Frozen Pelvis #1
Luteal Phase, Eating Mindfully and the Power of Breathing
Let’s dive into what is a Frozen Pelvis, how I have lived with it for over 5 years and some ways to adapt to the condition.
Living with deep infiltrating endometriosis (DIE) and a frozen pelvis, is living with a body that sometimes doesn’t respond. A frozen pelvis is an end stage level of endometriosis, a condition where adhesions have grown so much they restrict the natural movement of pelvic organs. In simple terms, things that should move freely: bowels, bladder, uterus become stuck together. The result is a daily life shaped by flare-ups, dietary limitations, and long stretches of discomfort.
I know it looks daunting, but it is actually manageable when addressed benevolently.
On a day-to-day basis, the lack of movement creates constant internal tension. When the bowels are slow, when the bladder feels full all the time, when everything around the womb feels stiff and swollen, even the simplest tasks can be heavy. Diet becomes crucial to avoid straining bowel movements. Walking and gentle exercise become essential. Not just for fitness, but to encourage movement where the body resists it.
The truth is, there isn’t much that can fully alleviate frozen pelvis symptoms. There is no magic switch, no universal cure. For me, so far, management has been about small, careful adjustments that together make life more bearable.
I limit what I eat. I avoid dairy, red meat, and saturated fats, which tend to increase inflammation for me. I drink a lot of water. Hydration helps with general soreness and supports bowel movement when things slow down. Then, there is visceral osteopathy and pelvic physiotherapy — both of which have honestly been lifesaving.
Pelvic physiotherapy works internally, intravaginally, pressing on pain points and restricted areas. Visceral osteopathy works externally, through the belly, applying careful pressure to the organs to help separate what is stuck and give them more space to move.
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These practices don’t cure a frozen pelvis, but they soften it. They increase the natural flow of a body and help to avoid medication, such as pain-killers, to live a normal life.
But even when all of that is in place, the most difficult time each month remains the window leading up to menstruation: the luteal phase.
Many women describe a predictable worsening of their symptoms about 7 to 10 days before bleeding begins. For those with severe endometriosis, that window can be even longer, sometimes starting right after ovulation and lasting up to two weeks. Hormonal shifts, rising inflammation, and pelvic congestion all combine to turn a simple day into a long battle until you can finally go to sleep at night.
The pain shows up in many forms. For some, it’s sharp, stabbing pain deep inside the womb. For others, it mimics extreme period cramps, accompanied by nausea, diarrhea, or twisting ovary pain. For me, it manifests as a heavy, frozen ache in my lower belly. It feels as if a brick has been lodged deep inside my pelvis. Every step sends a needle-like echo through the area. A hot water bottle can take the edge off, but when the pain reaches its peak, there isn’t much to do except wait. And do everything possible to make the waiting more survivable.
This is when I strip my diet back to the bare minimum. Plain broth. White rice. Easy foods that demand as little as possible from my digestive system. I sleep more. I breathe more intentionally. I cancel plans without guilt. The goal during flare-ups is no longer productivity, but survival mode with gentleness.
A long time ago, before my pelvis became completely frozen, my Osteopath gave me one very useful exercise to do before sleep, and, although it is not a cure, it is a fantastic companion through a flare-up: Deep Breathing Exercise.
I lie down with a hot water bottle pressed against my lower belly, legs open in a gentle butterfly position. I breathe in deeply through my nose, inflating my belly as much as possible, and hold that breath for five seconds. Then I breathe out slowly through my mouth, flattening my belly and imagining that I’m vacuuming out every trace of trapped air and tension. I repeat this at least five times, more if the pain is really bad.
I know this isn’t glamorous at all, and most women don’t want to hear this, but a frozen pelvis will trap air inside, as the organs struggle to move. Inflating and vacuuming, the repetition of it, is a powerful way to naturally bring a flow back inside your belly.
So, there you have it. Life with a frozen pelvis isn’t fun, but for my part, I have learnt to embrace this new chapter of my endometriosis, in the same way I embraced the condition after a few years battling against it. Your body doesn’t need to be a constant fight. There are ways to alleviate the pain and accept that your body does its best with the condition it is bearing.
But also, don’t get me wrong here. I am not perfect. Some days I eat the wrong things and pay the price later… Some days I don’t do this breathing exercise because I can’t be bothered. I am just a normal person, doing as good as possible, navigating laziness like anyone else. The one thing I never do, however, is be angry at my endometriosis. I choose peace over anything else.
Until next time, take care and give yourself the love and attention you deserve.
