In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week we’re sharing a story that speaks to the many ways fertility planning can intersect with life’s unexpected turns. E.S., a Reprotech customer, generously offered to share her experience to help others feel less alone, and more empowered to advocate for themselves.

What began as proactive fertility testing and a decision to freeze eggs “as a backup” quickly became something much more when E.S. found a lump in her breast, pushed for timely answers, and received a breast cancer diagnosis just days after an egg retrieval. Her story is a reminder that self-advocacy matters, early detection matters, and preserving options can bring steadiness when the future feels uncertain. Here's her story:

Though I wasn’t planning on getting pregnant yet, I underwent fertility testing in the Spring of 2024. I was 37 and thought it’d be a good idea to see how things looked. I discovered that my ovarian follicle count looked great, and my AMH numbers were within range for my age. However, since I wasn’t sure when I was going to start a family, I decided to freeze my eggs. I had never thought it was a feasible option financially, but I learned that some insurance companies will sometimes help cover the cost. If you stop reading after this, at least you know that might be an option!

Every woman is different, but the fertility shots and egg retrieval procedure I had six months later, in October of 2024, were a breeze for me. I’m a very active person and felt well enough to continue working out and getting outside throughout my first stimulation and retrieval. My body easily handling the ovarian stimulation encouraged me to do one more round to try and get my egg count into double digits.

That December, a couple of months before my next egg retrieval, my wonderful boyfriend, Joe, proposed, and we began planning a spring wedding—hiking up a mountain in Sedona at sunset, just the two of us, an officiant, photographer, and witness. Everything was coming together, and then, around the same time I found my wedding dress, I found a marble-sized lump in my breast.

I was a week out from the second egg retrieval procedure scheduled for early March. While the urgent care provider reassured me the lump would probably go away after I stopped the IVF medications, they scheduled testing a few days later to be sure. An uncomfortable-looking doctor came in shortly after the breast ultrasound and mammogram, telling me the lump looked “suspicious” and that I’d need to come back for a biopsy. When I asked how soon that could be, she said she wasn’t sure and that appointments were backed up. I work in research now, but am a medical social worker by trade. I received the biopsy that day because I did what I would have told any patient to do. I advocated for myself. Always advocate for yourself! If you don’t, who will?

And then, honestly? I didn’t even think about the biopsy. It wasn’t on my radar. I was thinking about my follicle count and how many eggs they’d get this time. The lump was nothing. I was sure of it. I mean, I work out five days a week, and my diet is very good. I don’t use aluminum-based deodorant or eyeliner with PFAs or skincare products with talc (no matter how tiny they make my pores!). It was good that the doctors were being proactive, but I knew there must be another explanation.

At this point, you can probably see where this is headed. The egg retrieval procedure a few days later went smoothly, and after obtaining six more eggs, I had what I fondly referred to as my “baker’s dozen.” Later that day, recovering at home, Joe woke me up and told me my doctor was on the phone. I said hello, expecting it to be the IVF clinic checking in after that morning’s procedure. Instead, it was the cancer center telling us the biopsy results showed I had either Stage 1 or Stage 2 triple positive breast cancer—surgery would confirm which, based on lymph node involvement. They said that triple positive breast cancer was usually treated with chemotherapy, radiation, protein blockers, and hormone blockers. Wait, what? “We’re getting married in two months. We’ve been talking about getting pregnant. Will I still be able to have kids?”

She said it was possible, but after chemotherapy, some women go into permanent menopause. She said at best we would have to wait until I finished the hormone blockers because of fetal risk. “And how long will I be on hormone blockers?” (thinking, possibly a few months… maybe a year). She said the oncologist would make that call, but that it is typically for five years. I did the math quickly in my head. Best case scenario meant we could start trying to get pregnant when I was 43. It was the first time I cried during that conversation. 43.

A lot has happened since then. I hadn’t planned on a third egg retrieval; however, given chemotherapy’s potential impact on my ability to have children, my oncology team supported the decision. I had surgery to remove the tumor (Stage 1 by the way, with no lymph node involvement!). I completed weekly chemo for three months, which was changed mid-regimen due to severe pain and risk of permanent neuropathy. To avoid commuting the three and a half hours to treatment anymore, we temporarily relocated to a new state as I underwent daily radiation for three weeks. I’ll also continue to receive monthly IV infusions and daily hormone blockers to prevent the cancer from returning. The plan is still for five years, but I might get a break in two years, as research suggests that recurrence rates and outcomes aren’t affected by doing so, and this might allow us to conceive naturally.

But most importantly, in April 2025, a month before we intended and the week before my lumpectomy, we four-wheeled and hiked our way up another 1,200 feet of red rock to our perfect wedding in Sedona and said “I do” as the sun set behind us. We don’t know if I’ll be able to get pregnant naturally. We don’t know if I’ll be able to get pregnant at all. What I do know is that God has a plan. And that a year before I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I decided to freeze my eggs as a backup. I had no reason at the time to believe I couldn’t get pregnant naturally, but I thought, “Might as well.” The IVF clinic did end up calling the day after that second retrieval. The nurse was so sweet and asked how I felt. I kind of laughed, “Well, honestly girl, not great. I found out yesterday I have breast cancer.” She gasped and said, “I’m so sorry. What awful timing.” This time, I did laugh. “Awful? I just froze 13 eggs. What incredible timing!”

Knowing my eggs are safely stored with Reprotech provides the ability to family plan post-cancer treatment. An option I never expected to need, but am very grateful to have. When everything else felt uncertain, it mattered to know that something so important was being protected with care and intention. Reprotech’s support and communication have made the process feel human, not clinical. Ultimately, I appreciate having a team that understands what this process represents, not just medically, but personally, and that provides the opportunity to advocate for such an important issue.

Twenty-five years ago, triple positive breast cancer was often a death sentence because of its aggressiveness. Today, with surgery, chemo, radiation, protein blockers, and hormone blockers, there is an over 90% survival rate. At only 38 years old, though, it would have been years before I’d been scheduled for a mammogram. Who knows what would have transpired in that time? What I do know is that one in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetime. I also know that number probably comes as a surprise to most of you. It did for me. I also know that if I am going through this journey, this awful, heart-wrenching, scary, eye-opening journey, I want to make sure I educate as many women as possible on the importance of breast self-exams.

We must be proactive, especially when so many younger women are being diagnosed with breast cancer. I can’t count the number of times I’ve told women I’ve come across “Girl, check your boobs.” I have no shame. Whatever. Women who never had a mammogram before have contacted me, saying I inspired them to make their first appointment. That’s what I want the takeaway to be. #girlcheckyourboobs. Make that mammogram appointment. Tell a girlfriend. Your sister. Your mother. Their life could depend on it.

~ Genesis 50:20 ~ You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. ~