Even if you have children and would like the opportunity to have a bigger family, I hear you.

There are so many in the breast cancer community I have met and so many who can relate to what I am about to say.

Whether you had chemo, radiation, or hormonal therapy, fertility preservation before or after treatment, is a discussion that needs to be had and there is so much you are not told.

I fought to freeze my eggs before chemotherapy.

I literally fought; an underinsured, 35-year-old women with breast cancer.

My medical team’s agenda was to kill cancer and mine was to save my future. Without that, why even bother saving my life and going through treatment if I was going to come out on the other side with everything taken away.

I lost my mom, my best friend, and my role model, to pancreatic cancer at the age of 22. After this, I picked what was left of my life up and set out to do all the things I wanted in life.

For years, I thought about what having a family of my own would mean. I thought of how it would or could look.

Fast forward 12 years or so later, along came this lump in my breast.

I had enough time to see how in a perfect or imperfect world this whole scenario could play out.

One of my first questions or concerns while making all my decisions was my ability to have children of my own.

Through my years of teaching, I had been an educator, a confidant, a mentor, a big sister, and quite a few times a “mom” as they would endearingly call me. I was the only positive adult figure in many of my kids’ lives. Many times my students (my kids) would ask if I was a mom. I would say no and it killed me inside. They would say “Yes, you are. You’re the only mom I have.”

My surgical options were given because of my age and not whether I had or wanted children. My plastic surgeon said I wasn’t a DIEP-flap candidate because I haven’t had children and I trusted him so I went along. Made sense that I wouldn’t want a surgery where I will get all nipped and tucked only to have surgery to tighten me up again. He said “When you are done with treatment and you’re done having kids, come back to me in a few years and I will get you feeling and looking good.”

Next up, after surgery was the treatment plan. Still, in my head, I was thinking positively. Pathology came back 90% ER/PR+ for both the lump and differentiated tissue. It also showed lymph node metastasis (exact words on the report).

Now, what did this mean for me?

This meant more life-altering decisions that impacted my ability to have kids.

Yes. You guessed it. Chemotherapy.

My medical oncologist explained what this could do to my reproductive system. She so nicely said my ovaries would go to sleep. I said for how long and she said “I can’t say.”

So my response was, “If you don’t know, I can’t start this process knowing that it will potentially shut my reproductive system down. I deserve the chance to try to have a child of my own.”

Like everything I’ve dealt with, it was a struggle. No matter what, I will always put my game face on and roll up my sleeves to prepare to do the work.

Needless to say, I eventually found a fertility specialist that was willing to help me.

For the next two months, with a devastating fail in between, I went through the process of freezing my eggs. From finding organizations to help with paying for the medications to starting a GoFundMe, you name it, I did it and would do it again to save that piece of me.

My first cycle failed and I mourned the loss, but was determined to fight for another shot.

The oncologist wanted to start treatment. So all I had was one more shot. I froze a few eggs, not as many because I am 36 and in the world of fertility, that’s old. I was happy for my few eggs and was happy they would be safe and waiting for me on the other side of the battlefield.

Treatment was so rough on my body but knowing my eggs were safe and sound made me fight harder so I could finally get to them.

Post active treatment, my period didn’t return, but I was told it’s still possible. I went from Tamoxifen to Letrozole exemestane, and Anastrozole with Lupron. Being told optimal time for usage of hormonal therapy is 5-10 yrs. My new oncologist knew my intentions and we discussed a time to come off safely and try to get pregnant. I was younger when I froze my eggs, but I knew from research the older I got, it would make things harder.

Finally came the date of my last Anastrozole, and then my last Lupron shot, it was like my doctor hadn’t heard a word.

During my visit with her, she asked me if I was serious about still coming off of hormonal therapy. The visit with her was like I was having a bad dream. Mind you, I had been asking for resources and what I should or could be doing all along.

I left my visit with her even more broken.

She gave me some vague stats on fertility. I had already been researching grants but no one would or “could” (as they say) help me. Every grant you can think of, I looked into, especially those who help cancer survivors. I never thought I would be discriminated against but I was “too old.” I was single, not properly insured, or had the income they required.

I kept coming across organizations that help young women preserve their eggs but where is the help to use them? I knew I couldn’t be the only one, but I kept hitting walls like I was the only woman to go down this road.

What happens with all these women who needed help to preserve fertility when they reach the point where it is safe to conceive? Will there be help for them?

So I have been on a search to find that help. I don’t even have my foot in the door where I can find out what my status is. A consult with a fertility specialist is $500! Who has $500 to spare just for a consult? No labs or tests, anything.

Why is this so hard?

So when people ask me what has cancer given me, I say: It took my mother and my chance to be a mother, but it will never take the fighter out of me.

I won’t give up.