My Story
My eyes are heavy with the haze of anesthesia as I feel the weight of a warm post-op blanket cover my body. I’m suddenly aware of the pain. And then my eyes shoot open and I slur with a heavy tongue and a raspy voice to my husband there at my bedside in the sterile recovery room, “Is it over?! What did he say?!” There’s a pause and a sigh and I suddenly feel a weight in that moment, you know that heaviness of a moment that you know will change your path from here on out. “Babe, he said there’s nothing he could do…” Hot tears stream down my cheeks and the pain of a surgery meant to pave the path towards bringing life into this world is now a dead end. It was my 4th surgery to restore order to my uterus and ovaries, which were a tangled mess of endometriosis & scar tissue from a condition known as Asherman’s Syndrome. When I met my husband, I had already had one surgery that seemed benign enough, but it led to the eventual difficult journey of infertility. Of course we didn’...