Stop Questioning My Infertility

It never fails to amaze but also anger me when women question my infertility. On Mother’s Day, I posted below.

I would think no explanation would be needed with this post. I’m not questioning if I am infertile or not. I’m not asking about IVF. I’m clearly stating I AM infertile thanks to cancer. Period. Yet, I inevitably get responses of “miracles happen every day” or “I was infertile once and then gave birth” or “Just believe, and it will happen.”

The insensitivity in those comments make me burn. No one has a right to question without knowing the particulars of the situation. Then when I comment on it, I get the common response of “I was just trying to give you hope.”

The world of infertility is a delicate, sensitive, and emotional topic for men and women. I wish people would stop trying to “fix” the situation, especially when they don’t personally know the person.

I shouldn’t have to post that I had to be medically induced into menopause at 40 because I was intolerant of all post-treatment medications for pre-menopausal women.

I shouldn’t have to post that I had a septate uterus which is a deformity of the uterus, that happens during fetal development before birth. A membrane called the septum divides the inner portion of uterus, at its middle. It has been associated with an increase in the risk of miscarriage, premature delivery, and malpresentation. It’s associated with poorest reproductive outcomes.

I shouldn’t have to post that that aside from discovering I had a septate uterus, my surgical report from the hysterectomy and salpingo oophorectomy also stated I had endometriosis.

Though I know the comments weren’t intentionally made to be hurtful, they were still super insensitive and felt like a kick in the gut. I simply wanted to post for those women who truly are infertile that I know how difficult Mother’s Day can be. If you ever see a woman or a man post about infertility, please do not make those kinds of comments because you do not know the backstory.

Unless the Lord thinks I should have an Immaculate Conception, there is no hoping for a miracle. If someone is asking a question about infertility in their post, that’s the only time it’s appropriate to make those comments. When someone is like me is being vulnerable and stating their truth, don’t kick them below the belt like that. Ever.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie

A New Perspective on Infertility

I think many cancer patients/survivors grieve for some part of themselves that’s been lost to this horrible disease. When you add the loss of body parts or the body that you used to know, the grief becomes greater. Then when cancer makes you infertile when you’re still of childbearing age, there’s another type of grief that is palpable.

One of the hardest paths I’ve had to travel post-cancer has been due to the choice of having a child being taken away. Since I was intolerant of the medications to help prevent recurrence for pre-menopausal women, I had to be medically induced into menopause in 2017, so I could try the medications for post-menopausal women. Plus, during my pre-cancer days, I had ongoing issues with my cervix and ovaries – multiple abnormal pap smears and cysts the size of lemons on my ovaries. I had a bicornuate uterus which means it was heart-shaped, so high risk for miscarriages and premature birth.

It’s painfully clear that I would’ve struggled to get pregnant and/or carry a baby to full term. Do I want to live, or die doesn’t seem like a fair choice.

I had stopped blogging about my feelings on infertility because I would get so hurt when people would say, “just adopt or foster.” It’s such a callous thing to say even though I know they were trying to be supportive. I constantly wanted to scream that I’m chronically single!!!

I grew up with divorced parents where my mother had sole custody of me. I saw how hard it was to raise me as single, divorced woman. It truly took an amazing village to help raise and support my mother and I and know we were blessed to have such amazing support. That’s why I would never want to raise a child on my own unless forced due to a divorce. I’ve cost my mother a fortune, even as an adult.

I would never willingly adopt or foster a vulnerable child without being able to fully support them financially and emotionally. I physically don’t have the energy to handle raising a child on my own. I can barely keep myself afloat with medical bills constantly hanging over me and chronic pain that can often turn excruciating. How would that be fair to a child? They need more than just love.

The part I struggle with the most is the longing to share my childhood and college memories, values and wisdom with a child.

Fast forward to Friday evening when I was talking with my friend Francesca. I mentioned her a lot last year because we partnered together to write an abstract that we were selected to present titled, “You don’t really have a say in anything…like you don’t have any options”: AYA Cancer Survivors’ Perspectives on Fertility Preservation Conversations with Healthcare Providers at the 16th Annual American Psychosocial Oncology Society(APOS) in Atlanta in February 2019. It’s honestly one of the proudest moments of my life post-cancer thus far.

Francesca & Megs at APOS Feb’19

Though I’m 20+ years older than Francesca, who is studying for the MCAT’s, she is authentic, thoughtful, brilliant and compassionate among other fantastic qualities. She floored me by saying she thought of me like a godmother, an aunt and a big sister rolled into one. She said I didn’t need to only think I can impart wisdom or share my memories and values with a child.

The way she said those words…her tone and inflection just touched my heart and gave me a new perspective on my infertility. As you can imagine, I was brought to tears but tears of joy and appreciation. Francesca was surprised I didn’t seem to realize that’s how she viewed me.

I had been so stuck on the grieving train thinking only about the loss of a baby or young child, I never thought about the true impact I could make and have apparently been making on an actual young adult outside the cancer world. I’ve mentored over the years but never had anyone say what Francesca said to me with such sincerity.

Yes, I still feel the loss of choice, but have gained a new and unexpected perspective on this loss.  I do have so much love to give and little words of wisdom to impart. I’m usually very observant but completely missed seeing I’ve been making a positive impact on someone for almost two years.

My life on the cancer train just took a lovely turn on an unexpected path which has given me a new sense of hope and purpose. Words matter. I see now that I matter too.

I’ve got GRYT

The past few days have been a whirlwind of AH-MAZING experiences and accomplishments.  My co-presenter and co-author Francesca and I presented our abstract on AYA Perspectives on Fertility Preservation Conversations with Healthcare Providers at the American Psychosocial Oncology Society (APOS) conference in Atlanta, GA on Thursday, February 28th. Plus, I got to meet some young adult cancer “celebrities” in-person.  I’ll get to that in a few moments.

I had no idea what to expect at the APOS conference. I’m new to this side of cancer and research. I felt a tad outside of my element but tried to give the appearance of calm, cool and collected. Francesca and I were the third to present. I confess I was getting more and more nervous waiting for our turn to step up to the podium.

I knew our presentation would be authentic, informative and emotional. I’m beyond thrilled that the audience felt the same. Francesca and I bounced off well with each other. All that rehearsal and mouth warm-ups from my theatre days helped. I felt this surge of energy and focus as soon as it was my turn to speak. We were the only presenters who were asked multiple questions from the audience.

I could see some people moved to tears. It is honestly one of the BEST moments and accomplishments in my cancer experience as a writer, speaker, and advocate for young adult cancer thus far.

I must tell you about the three memorable and outstanding moments aside from being a presenter. I FINALLY got to meet the founder of Lacuna Loft, Mallory, in-person AND Aerial who partners with Lacuna Loft and is the program director for the GRYT Health app. As soon as I saw these two powerhouses, I actually got teary-eyed. I have been talking with them, especially Mallory, for two years! I still can’t believe I got to actually talk to and hug them. Plus, they came to hear my presentation.

Oh, there is more! I also got to meet the CEO and founder of the GRYT Health app, David, who also came to my presentation. I thought I had fully embarrassed myself enough in front of Mallory (in pic below) and Aerial because I was totally fangirl-ing. Nope! I completely lost it meeting David (in pic below), too! He’s also a MAJOR deal in the cancer world, and the nicest guy. I was able to hear David speak about his app and the thought, research, and funding behind it. The love he has for his team is inspiring and beautiful.

I’m super jazzed about the GRYT Health app and wanted to share my knowledge about it with you.  This is a peer-to-peer support app.  You can chat with people privately and in group chats. What I really love about this app is the connections made, especially in the group chats. You see, this app truly engages you with different types of programs offered for cancer survivors. I love how the group chats are moderated, too. The very first one I took part in was with Dr. Michael Stubblefield, Medical Director for Cancer Rehabilitation; National Medical Director for Cancer Rehabilitation
Kessler Institute for Rehabilitation. I was able to get direct access to him and ask questions about my neuropathy. I don’t know of any other cancer app that gives survivors this kind of access to major influencers in the cancer world. They also offer a movie club and writing program, just to name a few. Definitely download it and turn on your notifications to get updates.

It will be difficult to go back to my corporate job in the morning. I felt I was making a real difference and really living my passion the past few days. I long for the day when I can turn this passion in my spare time into a fulltime reality.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie

Reality Bites

I’ve thought a lot about “my story,” and who will tell it. It’s a tough pill to swallow knowing my family history literally ends with me.

Reality Bites.

It’s overwhelming to think about. Friends tell me I can still be a mother by either adopting or marrying someone with children. There are many issues with these two scenarios, so I’ve highlighted the top three:

  • I’m single and not about to adopt a child when I can barely provide for myself and mounting health needs/issues.
  • The thought of dating is off the table for at least another year or so due to chronic pain, fatigue, and zero sex drive.
  • I don’t even know if I will still be alive in another year or what other illnesses will befall me as long-term side effects keep popping up.

The point is I will NEVER have a human legacy who inherits my long lashes, quirky personality or bubbly laugh.

Reality Bites.

I was looking at old family pictures this morning. Though my mother and I physically do not look-alike, I found two pictures of when we were little, and we have identical facial expressions and seated position. It makes me laugh, yet weep.

Reality Bites.

Life can be very hard; for some more than others.  I’ve often questioned why I have to carry so much weight on my heart and soul. I don’t want to be Hercules or Wonder Woman.

I don’t know where my resilience stems from. There have been more dark moments that I care to fully acknowledge in my life thus far, and also many beautiful, delightful and charming moments.

Reality Bites.

This is not about being clinically depressed. This is about the ups and downs of grief. This is about MY reality. I’m still grieving over what could have been, what my reality is and how difficult thinking of the future and making plans can be at times.

Reality Bites.

There are moments when I think, “What’s the point?” of telling my story. Who really cares?

  • Chronically single
  • Medically barren
  • Breast cancer survivor
  • Only child

A therapist told me to keep posting pictures on social media from my scrapbooks and photo albums that I have so lovingly put together over the years that fully capture the really magical, humorous and exciting moments since childhood.  I was doing just that to make my digital legacy mean something but stopped as life post-cancer became too much again.

Reality Bites.

The only constant in my life is the essence of me remains the same. It’s solid. It’s my core.

  • Cancer couldn’t kill it.
  • Depression can’t kill it.
  • Grief can’t kill it.
  • Pain and fatigue can’t kill it.

There always seems to be a storm brewing, edging its way to the forefront of my mind.  I could really use a season of calmness in my body, heart, and mind.

Reality truly does bite.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie