Lately, the song by Peter Gabriel “I grieve” from the movie “City of Angels” plays on repeat when I see babies, baby clothes, little kids, blasted strollers and families in general while at the store, the mall, freaking Cracker Barrel.

I have to almost step outside of myself in order to NOT have a breakdown. Though some days are better than others, I can’t seem to fully accept this permanent loss.

What hurts the most is I will never have anyone who looks like me or inherits the way I tilt my head when I’m pondering or laughs like me.

As an only child, I have always enjoyed my own company. My imagination is huge. Now I wish I didn’t have such a huge imagination because I keep imagining what a son or daughter might’ve looked like.

I tend to focus my grief of being medically induced into menopause on not having anyone to look like me because I grew up just knowing my mother’s side of the family. Thanks to divorce when I was two, I never met anyone on my father’s side until I was 35 years old.

I look nothing like my mother. I look nothing like her side of the family. I have struggled with that.

There is no one to carry on my name. It literally stops with me.

What is it like to actually carry a child? Thanks to cancer, I will never know.

by Megan-Claire Chase

How would you respond to the writing prompt, ‘Ovary Suppression’?

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This writing comes directly from one of our participants in our Unspoken Ink Creative Writing Group for young adult cancer survivors.  The participants met for 2 hours each week, for 8 weeks during our Summer 2018 session.  This writing has not been edited since its original creation, showing the wonderfully raw and powerful prose coming from the courageous writing group participants each week.  If you’d like to sign up for future sessions, please email info@lacunaloft.org or sign up on our interest form.

I saw the cutest little boy at Target, maybe he was two or something, wearing the most darling sweater vest and bowtie. I couldn’t stop looking at him. Before I knew it, I was crying; just silent tears rolling down my cheeks. It was a punch in the gut because cancer took away my option to have my own child.

Yes, I know there are many children who need a home and could foster or adopt. I actually want to smack people when they make that insensitive comment. Why can’t they see how much it hurts me to know I’ll never have someone who favors me or inherits my talent?

What is my legacy?

I somehow ended up in the children’s section while at Target. I couldn’t stop the torture. Every tutu, dress, bowtie and little shoes caused a tear and my breath to catch in my throat.

It’s funny that I think about children at least once a day. I had convinced myself pre-cancer that I would never have any and didn’t want any. They are too expensive. What if they are premature like I was and filled with health problems? Plus, I’m single, so end of story.

Yet, when my oncologist and gynecologist said it’s best to have a hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo oophorectomy to lower my chances of a breast cancer recurrence since my body suffered such horrible sided effects from all the post treatment for pre-menopausal women, my heart stopped. The final step was to medically induce me into menopause many, many years early and hope my body will respond well to the post treatment for menopausal women. Plus, the surgery would completely prevent me getting cervical, ovarian, uterine cancer and endometriosis. Sigh.

I collapsed into tears. Do I want to live or die? Thanks to cancer, my insides are already dead.

by Megan-Claire Chase

How would you respond to the writing prompt, Reproductive Endocrinology & Infertility?

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This writing comes directly from one of our participants in our Unspoken Ink Creative Writing Group for young adult cancer survivors.  The participants met for 2 hours each week, for 8 weeks during our Winter 2018 session.  This writing has not been edited since its original creation, showing the wonderfully raw and powerful prose coming from the courageous writing group participants each week.  If you’d like to sign up for future sessions, please email info@lacunaloft.org or sign up on our interest form.