Clinic doing grand rounds, and it
was me and the female reproductive doctor and the male reproductive doctor. The male
doctor gets up and says, ‘Before we get started I just want to see a show of hands
as to who knows where the Cleveland Clinic sperm bank is?’ And no one raised a hand.
And then he says, ‘See out the window? There’s a courtyard. It’s right there. You
can see it out the window. Just so you all know, it’s right there.’ ”
Nancy puts herself in the category of cancer doctors who needed to look beyond their
specialty.
“Do you think that I ever once thought about a woman’s uterus or ovaries? I can tell
you, until I met Lindsay, never. My ecosystem was the head and neck. I wanted her
to speak, swallow, and breathe as normally as possible, and those are three things
we do every day and take for granted, but if I don’t fix you right, you’re not going
to do them. So my goal was—this beautiful voice, she loved to eat food, she loved
red wine—to be able to return her to those things. Did I ever once think about her
ovaries? No,” she admits. “Now, I know this is going to sound callous, but did I care
about her ovaries? No. My job was to cure her; to give her a life the best I could,
and to save the things that were in my control. What she did was say to me, ‘Hey,
guess what, doc? Not good enough. I expect you to get me to swallow and speak and
breathe again because that’s your job. But in the meantime, you need to have a conversation
with this doctor and this doctor and this doctor, because I don’t understand the side
effects of all the sort of stuff you’ve ordered for me.’ And I was like, ‘Really?’
And guess what? I did. She taught me.”
In October 2003, Jordan proposed to Lindsay. They were married eight months later.
Nancy and Dr. Hartman went to the wedding. A photo Nancy treasures hangs on her office
wall.
“There is a picture of the beautiful bride smiling, and he and I are on either side
of her kissing her cheeks, and people come into my office and say, ‘Oh! Is this you
and your husband and your daughter?’ ” She laughs. “And I say, ‘No, but it’s my favorite
picture of any wedding I’ve ever been to.’ If they would have told me that I would
see her walk down the aisle with this stunningly handsome man I would have never believed
it.”
Dr. Daniel Hartman, Lindsay, Dr. Nancy Snyderman, 2004.
(Credit: Michelle Walker Photography)
In the fall of 2004, Fertile Hope launched Sharing Hope, a financial assistance program
for fertility preservation. The goal was to increase access to egg freezing, embryo
freezing, and sperm banking for newly diagnosed cancer patients whose medical treatments
put them at risk for infertility. Fertile Hope worked with companies and clinics to
arrange for discounted services and donated medications for eligible female and male
cancer patients. The newly marriedLindsay was also launching a personal mission: get pregnant. She had stopped taking
birth control pills prior to the wedding and was a bit concerned because her cycle
became very erratic. She developed severe cramps, pesky yeast infections, and long,
heavy periods. Lindsay had the gut feeling that she was possibly having miscarriages.
She made an appointment in October with Dr. Rosenwaks for herself and Jordan to see
if they were both fertile. Tests indicated each was, and the doctor encouraged the
pair to try to get pregnant on their own. By the next month, Lindsay was pregnant,
but within a week, she miscarried. The stress was mounting for Lindsay. She was having
problems staying pregnant, and due to her prior cancer treatments, the biological
calendar of her ovaries was ten to fifteen years shorter.
“I really felt, in that moment, that infertility was harder than cancer ever was,
because you’re always in the land of the unknown. I don’t know why I’m miscarrying, I don’t know
was me and the female reproductive doctor and the male reproductive doctor. The male
doctor gets up and says, ‘Before we get started I just want to see a show of hands
as to who knows where the Cleveland Clinic sperm bank is?’ And no one raised a hand.
And then he says, ‘See out the window? There’s a courtyard. It’s right there. You
can see it out the window. Just so you all know, it’s right there.’ ”
Nancy puts herself in the category of cancer doctors who needed to look beyond their
specialty.
“Do you think that I ever once thought about a woman’s uterus or ovaries? I can tell
you, until I met Lindsay, never. My ecosystem was the head and neck. I wanted her
to speak, swallow, and breathe as normally as possible, and those are three things
we do every day and take for granted, but if I don’t fix you right, you’re not going
to do them. So my goal was—this beautiful voice, she loved to eat food, she loved
red wine—to be able to return her to those things. Did I ever once think about her
ovaries? No,” she admits. “Now, I know this is going to sound callous, but did I care
about her ovaries? No. My job was to cure her; to give her a life the best I could,
and to save the things that were in my control. What she did was say to me, ‘Hey,
guess what, doc? Not good enough. I expect you to get me to swallow and speak and
breathe again because that’s your job. But in the meantime, you need to have a conversation
with this doctor and this doctor and this doctor, because I don’t understand the side
effects of all the sort of stuff you’ve ordered for me.’ And I was like, ‘Really?’
And guess what? I did. She taught me.”
In October 2003, Jordan proposed to Lindsay. They were married eight months later.
Nancy and Dr. Hartman went to the wedding. A photo Nancy treasures hangs on her office
wall.
“There is a picture of the beautiful bride smiling, and he and I are on either side
of her kissing her cheeks, and people come into my office and say, ‘Oh! Is this you
and your husband and your daughter?’ ” She laughs. “And I say, ‘No, but it’s my favorite
picture of any wedding I’ve ever been to.’ If they would have told me that I would
see her walk down the aisle with this stunningly handsome man I would have never believed
it.”
Dr. Daniel Hartman, Lindsay, Dr. Nancy Snyderman, 2004.
(Credit: Michelle Walker Photography)
In the fall of 2004, Fertile Hope launched Sharing Hope, a financial assistance program
for fertility preservation. The goal was to increase access to egg freezing, embryo
freezing, and sperm banking for newly diagnosed cancer patients whose medical treatments
put them at risk for infertility. Fertile Hope worked with companies and clinics to
arrange for discounted services and donated medications for eligible female and male
cancer patients. The newly marriedLindsay was also launching a personal mission: get pregnant. She had stopped taking
birth control pills prior to the wedding and was a bit concerned because her cycle
became very erratic. She developed severe cramps, pesky yeast infections, and long,
heavy periods. Lindsay had the gut feeling that she was possibly having miscarriages.
She made an appointment in October with Dr. Rosenwaks for herself and Jordan to see
if they were both fertile. Tests indicated each was, and the doctor encouraged the
pair to try to get pregnant on their own. By the next month, Lindsay was pregnant,
but within a week, she miscarried. The stress was mounting for Lindsay. She was having
problems staying pregnant, and due to her prior cancer treatments, the biological
calendar of her ovaries was ten to fifteen years shorter.
“I really felt, in that moment, that infertility was harder than cancer ever was,
because you’re always in the land of the unknown. I don’t know why I’m miscarrying, I don’t know
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