I was finally home, and I couldn’t have been happier.

Home was familiar, but daily life looked very different now.

I recovered at home a lot faster than I expected, although it wasn’t without its setbacks.

There was still so much healing happening, and I was also getting used to life with two ostomies.

This wasn’t a temporary situation. This was my new normal.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had the loveliest district nurse who would visit me at home. She gave me lots of different bags and products to try so I could work out what suited me best.

The urostomy bag was fairly standard, and I was happy with that one.

For my colostomy, I chose a two-piece system with a baseplate that stays attached to the skin, allowing the bag to be clipped on and off.

Before long, they even had names. My colostomy became Collette and my urostomy became Ursula. By then I’d already grown quite fond of them. Giving them names made them feel a little less clinical and a little more like “my girls”.

In hospital, I used to watch the nurses cutting the openings in the bags to fit my stomas without even using a template. My stoma nurse did the same thing when she visited me at home.

I would look at her and say, “Wow, I have no idea how you do that.”

She always told me that eventually I would be able to do it too.

She was right.

Before long, I was cutting them myself without thinking too much about it. Something that had once looked so difficult slowly became part of my normal routine.

There were so many things to learn in those early days.

There were different bags and products, how often to change everything, how to care for the skin around my stomas and what to do if I had a leak.

I also learned that stomas can change shape over time, so sometimes the opening in the baseplate needs adjusting.

Then there were the very practical questions.

Where was I going to store all these products?

I ended up buying clear shoe storage boxes that stack on top of each other and open from the front.

They were perfect. I kept the baseplates in one box, Collette’s bags in another and Ursula’s bags in a separate one.

I also created a system in my bathroom cupboard so that everything I needed was within easy reach.

I kept a week’s worth of bags for Collette and Ursula ready to go, along with the baseplates. In another container, I kept my adhesive remover spray, Cavilon spray, stoma powder and gauze swabs. I have found gauze swabs work best for me when cleaning carefully around my stomas.

I also had a separate section for my overnight drainage bags and the connector.

Having everything organised like this made my morning and evening routines almost seamless.

It also meant that full bag changes were much less of a hassle because everything I needed was already together and ready to use.

The overnight drainage bags were another learning curve.

An overnight drainage bag connects to the urostomy bag so that urine drains into it while you sleep. I drink a lot of water, so using one overnight was definitely a must for me.

The reusable bags I was initially given worked, but the connection was quite wide and the tubing wasn’t as long as I would have liked. Because I move around a lot in my sleep, those two things together made me constantly worry that it might become disconnected during the night.

I remembered the disposable drainage bags that had been used while I was in hospital. Their connector felt much more secure, and the length suited me better, so I managed to find those, and I’ve continued using them ever since.

Working out when to change my bags was probably the biggest challenge.

The stoma team had given me guidelines, but it still took time to work out what suited me and my skin best.

While I was figuring this out, the skin around Collette would sometimes become a little sore and break down. My district nurse taught me a technique called “crusting”, and it helped so much.

I would spray Cavilon over the irritated skin, apply a layer of stoma powder and then repeat the process three or four times until it formed a protective crust. This protected the skin while it healed, and within a few days it would usually be looking so much better.

It was such a simple tip, but it made a huge difference while I was learning what worked best for my skin.

I was also still having the occasional small leak from Ursula while I adjusted to everything.

One of my biggest lifesavers during this time was Brolly Sheets. They were amazing and came in so handy while I worked out my routine. Knowing the bed was protected took away so much of the stress when leaks did happen.

Not long after I came home, my aunt and uncle came to visit. Aaron’s parents also came over and spent Christmas with us.

That Christmas felt incredibly special.

I was so grateful to God for the life He had given me, and I knew I would always be grateful. I welcomed the new year feeling hopeful and excited to get back to some kind of routine.

After surgery, I was asked to meet with my medical oncologist to discuss whether I should have further chemotherapy.

We talked through the options, and she explained that the potential benefit for me would be less than five per cent. I was recovering well, my surgery had gone well and, after considering everything, I decided not to go ahead with it.

She agreed that it was the best decision for me at that time.

I returned to work that January.

It felt amazing to walk back into a place where I was so loved. I wasn’t just returning to work – I was returning to people who had picked up my workload, supported me throughout treatment and genuinely wanted the best for me.

I worked mostly full-time, although the district nurses were still visiting, so I worked from home one day each week.

Apart from that, things were going really well.

I was slowly getting used to life with my girls.

I had a couple of incidents at work where Ursula leaked. One of the girls suggested I keep a change of clothes at work, along with some spare supplies, which was such a simple but brilliant idea.

Since then, I’ve had a few other incidents, but most of them have happened because I simply didn’t empty Ursula in time. She became too full and leaked.

I now have a pretty good system.

I change both girls every second day. I’ve found that this helps the bags last well and also keeps the skin around my stomas happy.

Of course, there is one thing that nobody can fully prepare you for.

Gas.

Sadly, there is no holding it in. When your stoma decides to make some noise, it simply does.

I’ve learned to laugh and just go with it. There really isn’t much else you can do.

After surgery, I also wasn’t sure how I would dress.

My surgical sites were still tender and healing, so for a while I mainly wore dresses. As each week passed, I healed more and became more confident trying different clothing again.

By the time I returned to work, I started wearing pants more often.

At first, I wondered whether I would need to change the way I dressed completely. Then I thought, “You know what? I love my jeans, so let’s try them.”

From that point on, I simply went back to dressing in my usual style.

So many people have told me they would never realise I have ostomies unless I tell them.

I know this won’t be everyone’s experience, but I never really saw myself as different. I was just so grateful to be alive that having two ostomies didn’t faze me. Collette and Ursula were part of my life now, and every time I looked at them, I was reminded of the incredible gift of life God had given me.

Life was good.

I had this almost unexplainable love for God. I loved Him so much that sometimes my heart felt as though it couldn’t contain it. I would become overwhelmed thinking about everything He had done for me and how faithfully He had carried me through it all.

I started going to church every weekend. I joined a small group, began serving and joined the Meal Train team, where we cook meals for people going through difficult seasons of life, whether they’re recovering from surgery, welcoming a new baby or walking through grief.

I wanted to pass on the same love that had been shown to me.

God’s people had supported me when I was at my lowest. They had prayed for me, encouraged me and stood beside my family. I wanted to give back in any way I could and be that same kind of support for someone else.

I was getting back into life.

I was working, going to church, serving and learning how to live confidently with Collette and Ursula.

Then my one-year scans began to approach.

I was nervous, but it wasn’t the same overwhelming fear I had experienced before.

Somehow, deep down, I felt that everything was going to be okay.

On the day of my MRI, I came home from work and found that my cat, Catherine, wasn’t moving properly. It looked as though she had hurt her leg, and I began to worry.

It was almost the end of the day, and I didn’t know how I was going to get her to the vet and still make it to my MRI.

When I called the vet, they asked where my scan was being done. I told them, and they said, “Oh, that’s literally at the back of our building.”

Once again, I saw God working in the details.

I was able to get Catherine to the vet and still make it to my MRI on time. It was one less thing to worry about on a day that already felt big.

Before the MRI, I had asked whether they could play my playlist during the scan. By then, worship music was almost all I listened to. I had sent them the link ahead of time, but unfortunately they hadn’t realised I had already sent it.

The technicians asked what the playlist was called and tried to find it, but as the scan was about to begin, they still couldn’t locate it.

I told them not to worry.

“Anything by Brandon Lake – or any worship music, really – is fine.”

Then, just as the scan started, the music began to play.

It was the first song on my playlist.

I couldn’t help but smile. It felt like another gentle reminder that God was with me.

A few days later, Nicole emailed me with my results. She knew I’d be eager to know them before my clinic appointment, so she had kept an eye out for them.

Everything was clear.

It was so good to see Dr Jon Barnard and Nicole again. They checked my surgical sites and stomas and reassured me that everything was healing exactly as it should.

“Everything is looking good.”

After everything that had happened over the previous year, those words brought such a sense of relief and gratitude.

After everything we had been through, I wanted to see our families. I wanted to hug them, thank them for every prayer, and thank them for all the love and support they had shown us throughout that year.

So we began planning our trip.

Aaron, Mum, my sister and I would first spend some time together in New York City. Then we would travel to spend time with our family and celebrate Christmas surrounded by the people who had carried us through one of the hardest seasons of our lives.

Life looked different now.

I had two ostomies, a collection of medical supplies neatly organised around the house and regular hospital appointments that would continue for years to come.

But I also had peace.

I had hope.

I had a deeper faith than I had ever known before.

Most of all, I had an overwhelming gratitude for the life God had given me.

It wasn’t the life I had imagined.

But it was full, it was good, and I was so incredibly grateful to be living it.