The Pivot | The Weight of Preparation

By August 2025, I was finally catching my breath. After 20 years of debilitating pain and a successful hysterectomy in April, I was focused on the next phase of the plan my doctor had set in motion back in February. I was high-risk, I knew it, and I was finally being taken seriously.

The next step was a crucial breast MRI, the one that would dictate my preventative surgical path. But as I’ve learned over the last two decades, the road to restoration is rarely a straight line.

The Ticking Clock

Then, the system failed. A clerical error led to my MRI being canceled.

When you have spent half your life fighting for medical validation and years battling insurance companies that try to dictate your care based on "uneducated opinions," a month of lost time feels like a ticking clock. In the world of high-risk patients, a month isn’t just a delay; it’s a danger. I was exhausted. I was tired of being the "compliant patient" waiting for a system that didn't seem to share my sense of urgency.

The NOLA Pivot

Instead of waiting for a local system to fix its mistake while I sat in a body that didn't feel like mine, I did what I do best for my real estate clients: I negotiated a new path. Through research and a lot of prayer, I found the Center for Restorative Breast Surgery in New Orleans.

I scheduled a virtual appointment, and for the first time, I saw a way forward that didn't just involve "removing risk," but "restoring a life."

Building the Provision: Weight & Skin

During this time, I was doing something incredibly hard and uncomfortable: I was intentionally gaining weight. Because I had chosen the DIEP Flap reconstruction, my body needed to provide the "raw materials." My surgeons needed enough tissue to rebuild me, which meant I had to force my body to hold on to every extra pound it could. This wasn't about vanity, it was about how I felt physically. I didn’t feel like myself. I felt heavy and sluggish, forcing my body to expand for a surgery that was supposed to make me healthy.

But I wasn't starting from scratch. I already had a foundation. I had the extra skin that was the physical evidence of my six pregnancies. I have four children in my arms and three babies in my heart, and they had already "prepared the site" for my restoration. Between the intentional weight I was gaining and the skin that had been stretched and blessed by motherhood, I was literally building the provision I would need for the "restoration."

The Choice of Restoration

I’ll be honest: I initially planned to "go flat." With our family history I have seen the good, the bad, the hard, and the struggle of breast cancer surgeries. I was already  tired of surgery after the first one.  I was tired of being a patient. But as I listened to God’s direction and looked at my options, I felt a pull toward the DIEP Flap. Unlike traditional implants, this microsurgery uses your own living tissue.

It was a way to take that "extra" the weight I had strategically gained and the skin provided by my pregnancies and turn it into something beautiful. My babies didn't just give me life; they left behind the very materials needed to save mine. I was carrying the cure with me all along.

The Catalyst | 20 Years of Silence and the Doctor Who Finally Agreed

The Taboo of Women’s Pain

We need to talk about the things we’re told to keep quiet. For me, that silence started at 16. For over two decades, my life wasn't my own; it was dictated by a cycle that felt more like a prison sentence.

The Reality No One Saw

My periods weren’t the "typical" 3 to 5 days. My average was 12 days of heavy, uncontrollable bleeding, and there were times it lasted 28 days straight. I spent half my life housebound, dealing with:

• Indescribable pelvic pain and migraines that stole days of my life.

• GI issues and zero energy that left me completely depleted.

• Heavy bleeding that made it impossible to live a "normal" life with anemia and exhaustion that is hard to accurately describe.

For 20 years, I was the "compliant" patient. I tried every brand of birth control and every hormonal "fix" doctors threw my way. I was medicating symptoms without ever knowing the root cause, all while being told to "keep trying" different pills.

The War Against the "Uneducated Opinion"

Parallel to the uterine pain was a secondary battle: my breast cancer risk. I knew my family history. I knew the danger. But for years, I found myself fighting against insurance companies that tried to dictate my healthcare based on their uneducated opinions of my risk. I was pushing for early intervention, for screenings, for a proactive plan and I was constantly met with red tape and paying out of pocket.

I wasn't just fighting my body; I was fighting a system that told me my risk wasn't "high enough" yet. I was waiting for a doctor who would take my risk as seriously as I did.

The Meeting of Minds

That 20-year cycle finally broke in early 2025 when I met a doctor who did what no one else had done: he listened. He didn’t just reach for a prescription pad to mask my pain; he looked for the "why."

Within that single appointment, the mysteries were solved. We found a fibroid larger than a softball and eventually a diagnosis of Adenomyosis. But more importantly, he didn't argue with me about my breast cancer risk. He didn't let insurance dictate the conversation. He took charge, scheduling my February 2025 mammogram and an appointment with a breast surgeon immediately.

The End and the Beginning

I had my total hysterectomy in April 2025. It was the end of 20 years of debilitating pain, but it was just the beginning of a new survival story. Even when a post-op infection and an abdominal abscess landed me back in the hospital for four days, I knew I was finally on the right path.

Because of his thoroughness and his willingness to stand with me against the status quo, I wasn't just fixing the pain of my past I was finally allowed to prepare for the battle of my future.

A Journey of Faith, Health, and Home

As the calendar turns toward February, I find myself standing at a threshold I wasn’t always sure I would reach. For many, a new year is about resolutions; for me, 2026 is about a return to the work and the community I love so dearly.

The Whirlwind and the Miracle

The last few years have tested our family in ways we never imagined. Between navigating the complexities of Korbin’s health journey and facing my own battle with breast cancer, life became a series of surgeries and recovery rooms. Looking back, I see God’s hand in the timing of it all—He led me to step back from heavy commitments long before I knew I would need that time to fight for my own health.

After four surgeries in eight months, I am beyond excited to share that I am healthy and ready to hit the ground running. Seeing Korbin’s ongoing resilience has been the greatest inspiration of my life, and it has fueled my desire to get back to serving others.

More Than a Salesperson: A Strategist

Throughout this season of recovery, I have been working behind the scenes to refine my mission. I’ve realized that whether you are buying your first home or navigating a painful life transition, you need more than a salesperson. You need a strategist.

That is why I am so proud to launch www.meganwurzelbacher.com. This new home reflects the specialized roles I am stepping into:

• Real Estate Agent: Bringing stewardship and absolute honesty to families building their future.

• Domestic Relations Strategist: Using my background in counseling and the courts to provide neutral, clear-headed support for divorce real estate.

• Community Curator: Creating spaces like "The Wurzels" and the Compel Collective where we value community over competition and reality over filters.

Opening New Doors

Tomorrow, I officially dive back into Real Estate full-time. This work is vital to my family, and I have missed the joy of being an advocate for yours. My mission this year is to serve with a renewed heart, giving God the glory for the strength He has restored to me.

I am ready to make 2026 a year of closed doors in the past and open doors to new homes and new beginnings. Thank you for walking alongside me.

Let’s get to work.

Four Weeks Post Op

Four weeks post op today. I planned on getting myself ready to take a picture to celebrate another milestone of my healing journey. But if I am being totally honest, I hate taking pictures (especially for social media), and I didn’t really feel like it. These last 8 months have taken a toll on my body and especially my energy levels. Last night was the first time I was able to take a shower on my own again, though I still needed Jason’s assistance and my heaven-sent shower chair. I have been exhausted and not sleeping well on repeat. 

Back to the picture for the day. Social Media for me has always been a way to connect with others and share whatever God was doing in our lives, especially while we lived our lives on the road traveling with Jason’s job. Over the last few years, I have spent time researching and learning anything and everything through social media and online that I could to help Korbin in his medical journey and myself in all things related to breast cancer. The knowledge, connections, and support I have gained from complete strangers have been invaluable.  I will always be an open book if that means helping someone else in their hard season or when they are searching for answers. Instead of the Instagram-approved photo, I am keeping it real and sharing a photo I never planned on sharing. Actually totally forgot I even took the photo. But I know God has called me to always authentically share every bit of my story. 

Though my face is a hot mess and full of tears, this was one of the most important moments in my life. That day, I was recovering from my 3rd surgery of the year, my lumpectomy. I was appropriately wearing my “In my fighting era” breast cancer awareness shirt, and I got a call from my oncologist surgeon. He told me he was happy to tell me there was no cancer in my lymph nodes. I was sitting on the couch next to Kanen, helping him with his math lesson. When I hung up, he asked who it was and if everything was okay. I tried to hold it together, but when I said, “It was my doctor, and there was no”, I couldn't even say the word cancer. Then I started bawling, of course, totally freaking my sweet, sensitive firstborn completely out. Finally, I said, “It’s good, it's okay, there is no cancer in my lymph nodes.” He then ran to alert his siblings, with us in tears. I knew how substantial this moment was. So I did what everyone else in 2025 would do: I took a selfie. I wanted to capture this moment and have proof of it for my kids in the future. Again, I never planned on sharing this picture, and as I thought about it today, I didn’t even send it to Jason. Because as soon as I took this picture, I called him at work immediately, only to rerelease the floodgates, forgetting all about taking it.  

The tears in this picture are not from fear, anxiety, sadness, or even relief. The tears were because I was in complete and total awe of the goodness of God and how, in His perfect timing, He directed every single decision, phone call, doctor, test, and surgery.  I am so happy to be one more week closer to being released from all restrictions, even though it has definitely been a slow process. I want to keep this one for the memories. To look back on each year and see how God is truly who He says He is. To be reminded not to rush this last bit of my recovery because His timing is perfect. 

“It is because of the Lord’s loving kindnesses that we are not consumed, Because His [tender] compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great and beyond measure is Your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23

AMP