Chapter 2 - The day I heard Asherman

Dear Diary,

This week, I feel a little anxious about sharing this part of my story. I’m not quite sure where to begin.

Looking back at the years that followed the fertility struggles, the strain on my relationship, the shifts in work and career, the financial and personal challenges, feels heavy. It’s hard to intentionally revisit memories that still carry emotion. Especially when there’s a quiet sense of guilt sitting somewhere inside you even if you can’t fully explain why.

But maybe the only way through is straight through. So I’ll rip the band-aid off and begin.

It was after my now husband and I got married in 2021. We wanted to mindfully grow our family and decided to start trying for baby number two. Months passed. I told myself to be patient. But it wasn’t just the timeline that made me pause. It was the feeling in my body. After falling pregnant easily the first time and having always practiced a close mind–body connection, I knew something was off. I couldn’t explain it logically. I just knew.

I went to see a specialist and shared my observations. After discussing everything, we agreed that a hysteroscopy would give us clarity.

I remember sitting on that chair. Sweaty. Nervous. Slightly embarrassed about how scared I felt. Not necessarily of the result, but of the procedure itself. I’ve always been a bit of a wimp when it comes to medical interventions. Needles especially. I was holding my breath while the doctor prepared the instrument — a thin camera attached to what felt, to me, like the longest needle in the world. She looked at me, smiled gently and said,“Breathe. It will be alright. I’ll numb the area first. You might feel a little tweak.”

The first tweak was manageable.The second one wasn’t anymore. And by the time she attempted to enter my cervix with the hysteroscope, I was screaming. It wasn’t just discomfort. It was sharp, invading pain. My body felt like it was resisting. Like it was saying no. The procedure couldn’t continue. Between my pain and the unexpected resistance, she wasn’t able to access the area she needed to inspect. I remember her saying she couldn’t see properly... that everything looked dark and cloudy and that she would take some pictures to review with her colleagues before scheduling a second appointment. At the time, I think that was her way of keeping me calm. Of not alarming me prematurely.

Later, after discussing my case with her team, she told me that my cervix appeared to be almost completely blocked. This wasn’t something she could simply navigate with a camera. Surgery would likely be required. And then she mentioned a word I had never heard before.

Asherman.

She said I would need a specialist, someone experienced with this condition. And that was all I had to go on. No clear roadmap. No detailed explanation. Just a vague and unsettling possibility of a diagnosis.

My husband and I went home and did what most people do in moments like these — we entered the mysterious world of the internet.

Asherman Syndrome.

Scar tissue.

Adhesions.

Blockage.

Infertility.

I remember reading in silence, feeling my stomach tighten.

For those who, like me back then, have never heard of it: Asherman’s Syndrome is an acquired uterine condition characterized by scar tissue forming inside the uterus or cervix. These adhesions can cause the walls to stick together, partially or completely blocking the uterine cavity. It often results from trauma to the uterine lining, such as after a dilation and curettage (D&C) following miscarriage or childbirth. In my case it was because of the operation I had three years prior to remove placenta reschedules. Common symptoms include reduced or absent menstruation, recurrent miscarriages, and infertility.

Eventually, we came across the name of a surgeon who was described as the expert in treating Asherman Syndrome. I was skeptical at first. But what choice did I have? I called his office and hoped for an appointment — hoping someone could help me understand what was happening inside my body. Hoping someone could help us on what had suddenly become a confirmed challenging journey toward pregnancy number two.

This was the moment everything shifted — though I didn’t yet understand how much.

Next week, I’ll share what happened when I met the specialist… and how the word Asherman began to shape not only my body, but my mind, my marriage, and my sense of self.

To be continued...

Dear Diary,thank you for holding this.

Until next time,

Your Woman on a Mission

🎙 This Week’s Podcast

When I first heard the word Asherman, I felt lost in medical terminology and uncertainty.

That’s exactly why this week’s podcast episode (in Swiss German) is so close to my heart.

I’m speaking with leading Swiss gynecologist and fertility expert Dr. med. Antonino Siragusa about Asherman’s Syndrome — what causes it, how it is diagnosed, and what treatment options exist.

If this story resonates with you — or if you simply want to understand your body better — I invite you to listen.

Because knowledge doesn’t remove the fear entirely…but it does replace isolation with understanding. [Click here to listen.]