Looking back on what’s happened since January, I always get tears in my eyes. So I typically try not to really dig deep into what happened. But sometimes I can’t help it and think about what I’ve done and how thankful I am for taking the bull by the horns, and just diving right in to the scariest time in my life.
Some don’t know this, but I have 32 half children. They live on Madison Avenue in New York City. In a freezer.
When I was diagnosed, my doctor said I would have to go through chemotherapy and radiation and it would be in my best interest if I had my eggs frozen in case the treatments affected my reproductive organs. So, I went through the grueling process of getting shots, blood work, ultrasounds, and finally egg removal. The things is…do you know how many eggs a woman produces in one month? One. Do you know how many I produced (with the help of Dr. Mukherjee at RMA)? 32! 32 viable eggs! Do you know what that did to my belly?
It made me look pregnant! Ick. It was horrible. The experience kinda sucked, but it was so worth it. And that’s the story of my 32 half children.
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