Polycystic ovarian syndrome.
I had read about it. I had thought about what it would mean if I was diagnosed with this syndrome. I had read blogs of other woman who have it and have faced incredible struggles. I had stressed over it, thinking that this was the only possible explanation for why things in my body weren’t working right. But I tried to convince myself that my body was just being stubborn after quitting birth control. Besides lack of menstruation, I didn’t have any of the telltale signs of PCOS (weight gain, acne, facial hair, depression, etc. Sounds lovely, right?)
After months of waiting it out, my doctor sent me in for bloodwork to check my hormone levels. I felt an enormous sense of relief that we were finally going to figure out what is going on, but the next day a pit began to form in my stomach. I had a feeling that there was going to be something wrong. I received the call from the nurse telling me the news I didn’t want to hear. “Your results are consistent with polycystic ovarian syndrome.” She was incredibly sweet and gentle, giving me an explanation of steps we can take to overcome this. But all I could think about was those Google search results describing PCOS as the most common cause of infertility in women. Until now, I didn’t want to think of myself as infertile. My body was just being a jerk. Once it got back into the swing of things, all would be well. But no, there was more of an explanation to it. An explanation that caused panic, and then relief.
I cried as I let it sink in that one of the ailments I prayed I didn’t have is now a part of my reality. I wanted to scream and punch and kick something, but I just let the tears fall. Weirdly enough, I began to fell calm. After months of questions, fear and worry, there was a name for what is happening in my body. And solutions. There may not be a magic pill that makes it all better, but at least there is a road we can take with signs pointing us in the right direction. I’m scared. I’m worried. I’m angry. I have no idea what the future holds for us, but I’m also thankful. I’m thankful to have modern medicine and caring doctors and nurses who want to help me and have a plan for me. I’m thankful that I have an incredibly supportive husband, family and friends who have cried with me, have allowed me to be incredibly angry, and even a little mean, and have still given me nothing but words of love, hope and encouragement. And I’m most thankful for knowing that God is merciful. While I don’t know what He has planned for us, I have faith that it will be good and exactly what we need.