10.21.18
Here it goes:: the topic today is PCOS.
PCOS means polycystic ovarian syndrome. There are a lot of things that you can google, but I am going to be talking about my own personal journey and what that means for me now in this moment in time. There’s TMI in here, but reading personal accounts has helped me broaden my mind and knowledge and has certainly helped me realize I’m not alone in my struggles.
First thing you should know is that while some little girls plan their weddings, I planned baby names. I used to say I wanted as many children as I could, and I have ALWAYS wanted to have a family of my own.
Body wise, I was healthy and “normal” until I was about 8 or 9 years old. I slowly gained weight and got “husky”, but nothing to be terribly concerned about. By 12, I was obese. I didn’t get my first period until I was 16, which some say is just being a late bloomer, but in my case was probably the beginning effects of PCOS.
At 11, my parents divorced and my dad and I went off our own way. We had a huuuge learning curve, and I remember eating spaghetti with sauce (and when that ran out - butter) for weeks at a time until he got paid again because spaghetti was cheap, cheap, cheap. We moved again and again and readjusted our lifestyle over and over so we would never have to go back to those rough days, but that period of time was when I went from “husky” to obese.
I hated my body and didn’t understand why eating what was presented as “healthy” as a child wasn’t helping me. At 14, I started dance classes and later tried out and made my high school drill teams. All the dancing and cardio didn’t help my waistline. I didn’t let anyone’s mean comments or my fat body stop me from dancing, which inspired some and repulsed others. I didn’t have regular periods which I chalked up to being so active and fat at the same time. A stressed out body could possibly decide that’s not the best place for a baby to grow, right??
Enter adulthood. Here’s a few things I learned::
1.) Bread is NOT healthy. My mother drilled in my head that bread is good for you and could be a good anytime healthy snack as well as something you HAD to eat at least twice a day. Not sure where she got that information because, especially with my body type, starch and carbs are the enemy. I didn’t learn this til much later, I will alert when it is time.
2.) I have ADD. Specifically, ring of fire ADD (NOT ADHD) which helped explain why I am patient and extremely slow to anger, but once I’m angry, just back off and let me blow off my steam to cool down again. I thought it was because I’m southern. This diagnosis was at the age of 19.
3.) I have PCOS. The doctor I went to perhaps had good intentions, but conveyed very incorrect information and can give you, the reader, a glimpse at how one obese patient was given said info.
At my first OBGYN appointment, she told me that with 95% accuracy, I definitely had PCOS. She glanced over what that meant, but then came to the part she grilled me on - my weight. My weight was most likely causing the PCOS so if I could just stop eating bad and go exercise, I could probably reverse the effects and have a normal body again. I explained that I had danced for years and hadn’t eaten that terribly since I had had to at 12, and she said that I simply must not have been exercising hard enough and eating too much. Insert a HUUUGE eye roll here because as any drill team alum know, it’s plenty.
The real troubling thing came next when I talked about my want for a family in the future. She looked at me very gravely and said that my chances for conception are extremely slim, and if I ever did successfully conceive and didn’t miscarry, I would need to quit my job and stay at home and never be stressed for the whole 9 months because I would be at a very high risk of miscarriage up until the baby came out. Also, “don’t get attached to the first one” because I will likely lose it. Reminder:: A REAL DOCTOR TOLD ME THIS. AT 19. For real.
Her solution: birth control. I was very weary of all types of female birth control because there are a lot of side effects. I took them for a few months, and then stopped.
I don’t hold any ill will towards her, but I later found out that that information is VERY incorrect. My journey however has included believing that lie until 2 years ago.
Shortly after that, I found out I had ADD, so I started taking adderall. I took a high dose because my fat body would absorb it, and when friends or whoever would ask my dosage and I’d tell them, they were horrified and assured me that my heart would definitely explode and they were surprised I wasn’t already dead as a door nail. That’s the problem with opinions, it’s all very personally based. They weren’t thinking of MY fat body at all.
The adderall worked wonders. I could concentrate! I could multitask! I stopped making so many dang piles! Mostly, I stopped eating. I ate regular or smaller meals at “regular” times in the day and if I skipped something, it didn’t matter because I was definitely not hungry.
On weekends, sometimes I would want a break. So I wouldn’t take my adderall and I’d sleep and sleep and sleep and then binge eat and go right back to sleep. My roommates were worried but I felt so healed and cleansed with all that sleep, I wasn’t worried at all.
I grew skinnier and skinnier, and my PCOS symptoms had began to disappear. I was having regular periods, I wasn’t growing hair in weird places, and BY GOD, I could cross my legs like a proper southern belle. Everyone was soooo proud. I was proud, my family, my friends. Everyone from high school was wondering, “how did she do it?!?” My self confidence grew, and for the first time in my life, I started dating.
One day, I met the man who would be my husband. We both expressed our want of children which raised a big ole question:: how could I treat my ADD without adderall? I was scared because I knew what being on adderall is like and what not being on it is like, and my identity as an adult had revolved around and relied on it. If I stopped the medicine, I would get fat again! I was just about to get into single digit clothing, I was beautiful, and yet, I knew I had to stop.
I couldn’t think of any good time to stop, so I just did cold turkey. I was ridiculously tired for 2 weeks, and then I started to feel normal again. Sure enough, I started gaining weight again, eating a lot more, etc etc. I had my soulmate, so it didn’t seem like such a bad deal, but it was depressing nonetheless. The cringes on faces when they saw my weight regain was painful, talks about “what happened to you???” stung, and I felt so ashamed.
Insert that number 1 revelation, bread is BAD. Bad, bad, bad. I learned all about processed foods, and tried the keto diet. It worked and I lost a little bit of weight, but it was unrealistic for long term. Once you’re off keto, all that weight springs back on you, and so it did.
After our marriage, I was off insurance for some time and when I got back on, I was put on metformin for my A1C. My day to day numbers are fine, but my A1C number was ridiculously high. It’s under control now, and we are looking to the next step.
I have researched PCOS and here is the real kicker:: it makes it hard to lose weight but if you could just lose weight, it would get the symptoms under control. However, one of the symptoms is that it is hard to lose weight. It’s a great big freakin’ circle. I’m not talking “stop eating bread” hard. I’m talking “don’t even think about looking at carbs” hard. The only thing that helped was dropping all carbs and then I got yelled at for a non balanced diet. IT’S FRUSTRATING!
Here’s my plan:: cut out things in baby steps.
Step 1:: no more drinking my sugar intake. Proud to say, I have completed this step. This is one southern woman who drinks UNsweet iced tea and water only, please.
Step 2:: no more fast food. Still working on this one, it’s so easy and yummy but I have cut it to once a week.
Step 3:: no more junk food.
Step 4:: healthy meals only.
The scary thing is that the help for conception is all very expensive. The words of my previous OBGYN keep swimming through my head. I struggle to force myself to go to baby showers because while I am thrilled for my friend and their new little one, I am envious and that is an ugly color. Every time I see a child that’s been abused, it makes me tear up because I would love to adopt a child and love them to pieces. Adoption isn’t an option for us sadly due to things out of our hands (still looking into this, but the process of adoption of American children is hard and expensive), but the thought still hurts.
God wouldn’t put such a strong desire for having children in my heart if I wasn’t meant to have any, right?
I hope that anyone who got this far will remember this:: a lot of this struggle was silent as it was happening. I certainly know that if given the choice, I would have the correct BMI for my height. I didn’t choose this struggle, and unkind words make it harder to shoulder. As the Beatles say, “I get by with a little help from my friends.” Thanks to those who have supported me and let me vent to them about these struggles, and for those who have been with me as I navigate my way into the future.