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Last fall, I sat on the edge of a paper-lined exam table, blinking back tears while a doctor gently told me what I already knew: “We can try again.” It wasn’t the first failed fertility attempt. And it probably wouldn’t be the last. I’m 37, living in New York City, working a demanding job I actually love. I’ve built a full, beautiful life, but I’ve also spent the last year trying to carve out space in that life to become a mom. That’s not an easy task when the healthcare system seems designed to make it harder, especially for people like me with pre-existing conditions. In my case, it’s my thyroid. An autoimmune disorder I’ve managed for years, but one that quietly complicates fertility and what insurance will cover.
The visit in question wasn’t anything groundbreaking: a consultation and diagnostic ultrasound with a highly recommended reproductive endocrinologist. Out-of-network, of course. (In-network clinics were booked out for months, and I didn't have time to wait.)
The bill we received came to $2,760.
My insurance covered nothing. I was angry, sad, confused, and frankly, exhausted. The idea of calling my health insurance company to fight the bill or even get a clear answer on our next options would send me into immediate depression.
A friend going through her fertility journey mentioned Sheer Health. I downloaded the app and uploaded my bill to Sheer Health. and found several instances where my benefits had been applied incorrectly. They got to work fixing everything, including the most urgent, my denied fertility visit.
I didn’t have to rehash my story over the phone to a stranger. No hold music. Just connected my insurance and uploaded the information I had.
“This claim was denied due to a missing provider authorization. We’re on it.”
Sheer Health flagged that the insurance company had incorrectly denied the claim. They had overlooked that an approved prior authorization was on file. So Sheer gathered the documentation and filed the corrected claim, and had it reprocessed on my behalf.
Approved. Reimbursed. $1,200.
I sat on my couch in disbelief, rereading the message like it might vanish. It didn’t fix everything. I’m still on the path, still facing decisions, injections, and unknowns. But that moment, of someone else fighting for me, felt like a turning point. This was a reminder: I’m not doing this alone.
Here’s what I wish every woman knew when navigating fertility care: