note: this is a long and personal post. i’m a bit nervous putting this out in the world. if you are uncomfortable with ovaries, follicles, speculums, or the fertility experience, you may want to skip this one. i want to tell this story because i believe it is an important part of my cancer experience. maybe one day it will help someone else. for now, i know that everyone reading will be delicate with the information, and hold it in their hearts.
when i was a kid, as we drove alongside the corn fields on the way to church, my mom would have us guess how tall the corn was, as compared to our body. each week the corn would grow higher and higher – passing our knees, hips, shoulders, and eventually WAY above our heads. and then one sunday, we would drive by, and it would be gone, cut lower than our ankles. harvest season.
now, more than 25 years later, here i am with my legs up in stirrups, at a 90 degree angle – the lithotomy position – in a medical procedure room. the first thought i have (drug induced) is… these poor doctors, why didn’t i shave?
it is a very different harvest season.
when i met with my oncologist to discuss treatment options, he let me know that immunotherapy did not have a lot of research in relation to fertility. many of us know that chemo often impacts fertility, but because immunotherapy is so new, there is less information. there has been some evidence that hormones can be impacted… but my oncologist made it clear that they didn’t really know. since i want to continue to have options for motherhood down the line, we decided that i should delay the start of my treatment to harvest my eggs for freezing.
it was a long and emotional 12 days. i had to manage my egg-spectations – everything changing moment to moment; day to day.