You can’t retire. I’m not pregnant yet.

That was the first panicked thought that raced through my head when an email landed in my inbox the other day.

Dear Bella,

After 40 years of practice in women's health, I have decided — with a heavy heart — to retire from full-time practice in May this year.

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The rest of the letter felt like a blur as thoughts raced through my head.

You can’t retire! I need you.

He is a gynaecologist and pain medicine specialist who has spent decades researching and treating Asherman’s Syndrome – an acquired condition where scar tissue forms inside the uterus, often needing specialised surgery such as hysteroscopy to restore fertility.

How am I supposed to get pregnant when I need surgery to treat Asherman’s Syndrome every six months to increase my chances of getting pregnant with a sibling for Lark?

Yes, of course, I’m fully aware of how selfish this is.

And sure, he’s been a doctor since 1980 – a career spanning 46 long years advancing women’s health, researching and treating a rare medical condition, publishing numerous papers, and becoming renowned as one of the world’s leading experts.

He’s probably pretty tired.
I do wish him well, I really do.

Except it’s not May yet.

So I immediately hit reply

This is huge news! Prof has changed my life for the better, resolving Asherman’s issues that no one else could. We’re still trying to get pregnant, and I’m hopeful.

I suspect I may need another hysteroscopy before we put the last two embryos in – possibly April. Can I schedule it with Prof in advance?

I took the first available telehealth appointment, even though it would be in the middle of the night while I was in Amsterdam for a conference (that’s another story).

And dutifully dialled in, listening to smooth jazz in the online waiting room.

The deep grooves of wisdom at the corners of his eyes smiled as he said hello.

We talked briefly, and he thought my idea was a good one.

As it turns out, IVF transfers have the highest likelihood of success within the first two monthly cycles after a hysteroscopy – to “clear the cavity” and prepare the endometrium for implantation.

Asherman’s Syndrome isn’t common, and finding someone who truly understands it is harder.

While reviewing his notes, he mused:

We first treated you in March 2025 – Asherman’s Syndrome Stage 3 (oof).
Then again in November 2025.
Let’s get you back in this month. You’re familiar with the process. Give us a call when your menses start.

And so it is.

My journey for baby number two is entering its final stages

I know there are other people who can treat Asherman’s Syndrome.

But something about the timing feels like a sign.

I’ll have the surgery one last time.
Then transfer the final two embryos.

And if they don’t work, then it’s not meant to be.

While it’s hard to know how I’ll feel when it all ends – probably relieved to put this chapter behind me – I take comfort in knowing I do have some control.