If you feel like something's wrong, make sure your voice is heard
After the birth of her first child, an Illinois woman found herself caught in a slow unraveling — her body producing a hormone it could not stop, her fertility quietly extinguished by a benign tumor lodged at the base of her brain. In Chicago, a neurosurgeon named Dr. Stephen Magill removed the prolactinoma, and within a month, Lisa Fasone was pregnant again. Her story is a reminder that the body's disruptions sometimes have precise causes, and that persistence — in asking questions, in seeking answers, in refusing to accept silence — can be the difference between resignation and restoration.
- A tumor no one initially suspected was quietly flooding Fasone's body with prolactin, shutting down her menstrual cycle, prolonging lactation, and making a second pregnancy feel increasingly out of reach.
- Medication offered temporary relief but ultimately failed, forcing Fasone toward a choice that felt impossible: escalating drugs she didn't trust during pregnancy, or brain surgery.
- Referred to Northwestern Medicine neurosurgeon Dr. Stephen Magill, Fasone found a physician who heard not just her symptoms but her deeper wish — another child, her body returned to her.
- Surgery removed the tumor completely, and within weeks her prolactin levels normalized; within a month, she was pregnant — the fastest possible confirmation that the intervention had worked.
- Now a mother of two and off all medication, Fasone is channeling her ordeal into advocacy, urging others experiencing unexplained symptoms to keep pressing, keep asking, and consider that surgery may be the door medication could not open.
Lisa Fasone's body never quite returned to normal after her daughter was born in 2022. Her period didn't come back. Lactation lingered long past nursing. Headaches, night sweats, and a bone-deep fatigue made ordinary life feel like a sustained effort. Something was wrong, but for a long time, no one could name it precisely.
Blood tests eventually pointed to dangerously elevated prolactin levels — a hormone produced by the pituitary gland that, in excess, suppresses fertility. Medication brought the numbers down at first, but the relief didn't hold. An MRI revealed the source: a prolactinoma, a benign tumor at the base of her brain, relentlessly overproducing prolactin and making a second pregnancy nearly impossible.
Fasone wanted another child, and the prospect of indefinitely increasing doses of medication she didn't fully trust frightened her. When the drugs stopped working reliably, she was referred to Dr. Stephen Magill, a neurosurgeon at Northwestern Medicine in Chicago. He listened to what she was asking for — not just symptom management, but her life back — and he removed the tumor.
The recovery was swift and complete. Prolactin levels normalized within weeks. Her body, no longer overwhelmed by the tumor's output, began functioning as it was meant to. She was pregnant within a month of surgery. Magill later met the baby, describing the outcome with the kind of quiet wonder that comes from never taking such moments for granted.
Fasone now speaks openly about infertility's particular isolation — the way it makes a person doubt their body and their future. She wants others to know that persistence matters, that unexplained symptoms deserve real answers, and that surgery, when medication falls short, can be the path that leads all the way home.
Lisa Fasone felt something shift in her body after her daughter was born in 2022, but the changes didn't follow the usual postpartum timeline. Her period never returned. The lactation that should have stopped weeks after she finished nursing continued for months. Headaches came and went. Night sweats soaked through her clothes. Fatigue settled into her bones in a way that made ordinary days feel like climbing uphill. She didn't feel like herself, and no one could quite tell her why.
Blood tests revealed the culprit: her prolactin levels were dangerously high. Prolactin is a hormone the pituitary gland produces, and when it runs wild, it can shut down fertility. Doctors prescribed medication to bring the levels down, and for a while it worked. Then the symptoms crept back. An MRI showed what had been happening all along—a tumor on her pituitary gland, nestled at the base of her brain, pumping out prolactin like a broken faucet. The diagnosis was prolactinoma, a benign but stubborn growth that was making it nearly impossible for her to conceive again.
Fasone wanted another child. The thought of being trapped on escalating doses of medication she didn't fully trust in pregnancy terrified her. She had already spent months feeling unwell, watching her body refuse to cooperate with what should have been natural. The medication wasn't even working reliably anymore. She faced a choice that felt impossible: keep increasing the drugs and hope for the best, or have someone cut into her brain and remove the thing causing all of this.
She was referred to Dr. Stephen Magill, a neurosurgeon at Northwestern Medicine in Chicago. Magill listened to what she wanted—another pregnancy, another child, her life back—and laid out what surgery could offer. He explained the risks. He explained what success would look like. Then he removed the tumor.
The results were swift and complete. Within weeks, Fasone's prolactin levels returned to normal. Her body, freed from the tumor's relentless hormone production, began working the way it was supposed to. Within a month of surgery, she was pregnant. Magill got to meet the baby recently, and he described the moment with the kind of wonder that suggests he never takes these outcomes for granted. A healthy child. A mother off all medications. A pituitary gland restored to normal function. The full circle from desperation to resolution.
Fasone has become an advocate for others trapped in similar situations. Infertility is isolating, she says. It makes you question your body, your future, your place in the world. But she wants people to know that if something feels wrong, if the answers aren't coming, persistence matters. Your voice matters. Sometimes the solution requires surgery. Sometimes it requires refusing to accept that this is just how things have to be.
Citas Notables
It made me a little nervous to try to conceive on a medication that wasn't well studied to be safe in pregnancy.— Lisa Fasone
To get someone through that and then see full circle, living a normal life, healthy pituitary gland, not on any hormone replacement. Holding a healthy baby is just, it's incredible.— Dr. Stephen Magill
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
What made her finally decide to have the surgery instead of just staying on medication?
She was caught between two fears—fear of the medication's unknown effects on a pregnancy, and fear that the medication wasn't even working anymore. At some point, the status quo becomes worse than the risk of surgery.
How common is this kind of tumor?
Prolactinomas are actually the most common type of pituitary tumor, but they're still relatively rare in the general population. What made Fasone's case unusual was that it developed after pregnancy and was causing such severe infertility.
Why does the doctor seem so moved by this outcome?
Because he got to see the whole arc. He didn't just perform a surgery and never hear from the patient again. He watched her go from desperate and unwell to holding a healthy baby. That's the reason most surgeons do this work.
Did the medication ever have a chance of working long-term?
It helped at first, but her body adapted to it. The tumor kept growing, kept producing prolactin. Surgery was the only way to actually remove the source of the problem.
What would she tell someone else facing this decision right now?
That isolation is part of the experience, but it doesn't have to be permanent. And that advocating for yourself—insisting that your doctors listen when something feels wrong—can literally change your life.