The day I went into my OBGYN office to confirm my test results was a stressful one. I had most of them already sent to me and everything was normal. I still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread when I walked in and sat down.
One last result slipped through the cracks and that one was the most important.
I sat on the crispy annoying white paper with my hands in my lap as my doctor explained to me that I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome). The syndrome itself is an overcomplicated mess but fortunately for me, my diagnosis was not.
I have a mild version. I came to know that there are many stages of PCOS. Though I was classified as mild I was still holding the unbearable title of being infertile because of the diagnosis. Mind you, I was pregnant already once (naturally) that sadly ended in miscarriage so I couldn’t figure out why they kept shoving fertility medication down my throat. PCOS=Infertility. They classify a person as infertile because “Soul Cysters” as I like to call others with my hindrance, lack certain things that other women do not, such as the ability to ovulate regularly and have normal menstrual cycles.
I have PCOS but I do not have any cysts (as of now), I’m not over weight, or have problems with insulin. I am slender, extremely active and have been pregnant once….. I’m kind of a freak I guess.
Besides being a walking contradiction I have problems with anovulation, which means that I don’t ovulate regularly. That reason among long cycles and irregular testosterone levels make me a contender for PCOS. (Sorry for the TMI but it’s really a need to know in order for me to tell my story. J) Other than that “You’re in perfect health we just need to make some adjustments.” My OBGYN said.
So after starting fertility treatments which consist of shots, medication, and my hormones jumping through the roof things started changing. Not on paper but inside myself. PCOS began to take hold of my soul.
I became slightly depressed and extremely sensitive. I would have days where I would just sit and cry, days were I would struggle with anxiety, and moments that I wanted to see absolutely no one. I also became resentful and angry at people I barely knew. Obviously they had things that I wanted, they had children.
My normal happy demeanor was taken over by a dark and hostile version of myself. I refer to it as my dark side. (I would like you all to imagine Darth Vader’s deep menacing tone right here.) Yes, I was being lured to the dark side.
It wasn’t until after Christmas that things began to look up for me. I found a new doctor who many people I know have gone to for help. He is informative, practical and not afraid to tell me how it is. I appreciate those qualities in a person because they mirror my own. I also traded in my dark robe (again another Star Wars reference) for a lighter one. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and running away from what I had. I learned to accept the fact that I wasn’t “normal” and learned how to deal with it.
I met many other women who have what I have. Some have it way worse, some do not, but nevertheless their stories are all equally inspiring. I’ve also began to learn to appreciate my current blessings.
My life had quickly become long waiting periods. Increments of time that I would spend staring at a calendar and taking pills while awaiting results. It was after talking to these people and coming around to finding my faith that I stopped waiting and began living.
Life does not stop because we are having a bad day. People will not censor themselves every time we are offended. Time keeps moving forward even if we are stuck with our feet in the mud. Learning to deal with my circumstance is still challenging but I find that I have more good days then bad. I surrounded myself with supportive people that I like to think of as my own personal cheerleaders. I also changed my outlook and began to pray.
PCOS could’ve ruined me, my life, and my happiness. It actually started too and I was becoming a bitter, resentful shell of myself that began to push away friends and family.
Sorry. Close but no cigar.
It actually is changing me for the better. It’s teaching me acceptance, patience, and strength. These things I also pray for on a daily basis. I’m a work in progress but I can feel the changes within myself. I was so afraid that day that I left the doctor’s office but I’m not afraid anymore. I’m tired but I’m not beaten down just yet. I know there is a light at the end of my tunnel even if it takes me awhile to get there.
They say your darkest hour comes before your dawn and now I’m finally starting to see the sun.