“I’m sorry, it’s cancer.”

Almost six years later, and playing the call that delivered those words still gives me knots in my stomach.

Every now and then, I find myself replaying the days that led up to that call over and over in my head. Sometimes I sit and think about the whirlwind of appointments, surgeries, and treatments that followed.

The one thing that I play over in my mind constantly is “that” appointment.

I’ll never forget finally finishing up chemo and going in to see my oncologist. I was excited to finally be on the other side of chemo when she walked in with her clipboard and sat down. She informed me that she had scheduled my surgery.

Surgery? Ovaries?

I sat in her office completely caught off guard by the fact that she had scheduled an oophorectomy without any discussion. In fact, when I started treatment, no one ever mentioned any fertility options to me. The first mention of my fertility was halfway through my treatment in the form of a “well it’s a blessing you already have your boys because there’s a strong possibility you won’t be able to have more children.”

I never stopped to consider fertility when I started chemo because quite frankly, I was just trying to live. I was just trying to get on the other side of my diagnosis. I was upset with myself because I didn’t ask questions about my fertility.

Should I have asked?

Who was responsible for making sure we had the fertility talk?

I remember sitting in the doctor’s office feeling so overwhelmed and angry. I was angry at myself for not asking more questions and I was upset with my doctor because I felt blindsided. I was 28 years old. It had never occurred to me that when and if I decided to have another child, that wouldn’t be an option.

I had hopes of having a baby girl.

It was “that” appointment that changed everything for me.

It was at that appointment that I decided I needed to advocate for myself.

I asked more questions.

I asked for other options.

I decided not to have the surgery.

I had just gone through losing my hair, my breasts and now, there was talk about taking my ovaries.

On December 7, 2017, I welcomed a beautiful, healthy baby girl—the baby girl I was told I wouldn’t be able to have!

What if I would have gone through with the surgery?

I share my story because I want others to feel empowered to advocate for themselves. I want others to know it’s ok to ask questions and get a second (a third or fourth) opinion.

“That” appointment sparked the fire of advocacy in me.

As a cancer patient, you should feel like a partner in your treatment plan. You should be given all the information and options in order to feel empowered to make informed decisions about your healthcare. Every time I look at my daughter, I am reminded of the power of faith and advocating for yourself.

“I learned a long time ago the wisest thing I can do is be on my own side, be an advocate for myself and others like me.”- Maya Angelou.