My PCOS Story

In 2002, I visited my doctor to help me deal with fatigue, depression and hair loss. I had gained some weight, but what mom hasn’t, right? I wasn’t worried about the weight gain as I had been at least slightly overweight since puberty. I just wanted to know what was wrong with me. Dr. Wagner* thought it might be hypothyroidism. We drew some blood and I scheduled another appointment.

The second visit started with a little small talk. I had just completed my bachelor’s degree and was pretty happy to share my news. Dr. Wagner asked how I had been feeling. Nothing had changed in the last week or so. He explained that the blood tests showed that there was no problem with my thyroid. He asked what I thought about this and I said that I figured hypothyroidism would have explained a lot of my symptoms. I thought we knew what was wrong with me, but now we were back at square one. He could see that I was disappointed and chose to share a little more information.

Dr. Wagner told me that my problem was a hormonal imbalance. He said that I probably just had too much testosterone. He very carefully explained to me that yes, girls have testosterone and boys have estrogen, it’s just a different balance. I took A&P and genetics as gen eds in college because I thought they were interesting. I was pretty offended by his condescension. He said that high levels of testosterone would cause my insulin balance to be off. He said that if he had tested me for that, the blood work would have confirmed this, but he didn’t test for it.

And then, this doctor, the man who delivered my son, the man I had trusted with my well-being, shared with me one of the most infuriating opinions I had ever heard. “If you lose some weight, all of your problems will go away. But that’s just too hard to do. Have a good day.”

As he walked out the door with my chart, I didn’t even know what to say. I was completely flabbergasted. I thought my doctor was supposed to help me? He called me stupid, fat and lazy all in one short visit. I never returned to his office, but I also didn’t bother trying to get any more help for a long time.

A few months later, my daddy and my sister, Shayna, talked me into visiting their chiropractor for tendonitis in my wrist. Dr. Mark was such a change from Dr. Wagner that I was amazed. He took free x-rays of my back to examine an old injury and see how he could help. He talked to me about my overall health. When I told him that I was tired all the time and losing hair, he asked if I had been tested for hypothyroidism. Dr. Mark requested a copy of my test results. He explained to me that while my thyroid wasn’t functioning at a low enough level for traditional hormonal therapy, there were supplements that I could take to jump start my thyroid and whip it back into shape. While the new treatment didn’t help my weight any, my hair quit falling out and I wasn’t so tired anymore.

In 2004, I moved and didn’t have any doctor for a while. I quit taking my supplements because I didn’t even know where to find them. But I wasn’t losing my hair anymore, so I figured maybe my thyroid was doing its thing.

Over the next two years, my husband and I both were gaining weight. My new GP diagnosed me with polycystolic ovary syndrome. She said that it caused insulin resistance and that I needed to make sure that 1/4 or less of any plate of food I ate was carbohydrates. In January of 2006, we started the South Beach diet. By May, Dan had lost 30 pounds and I had lost 25. But then I just couldn’t lose anymore. By the beginning of June, my energy level dropped and I was nauseous most days. I had missed a period, but that wasn’t unusual for me. Dan thought I was pregnant. I told him he was crazy. I had been on the pill for eight years and I was still on it. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I scheduled an appointment and saw the physician’s assistant. She said that mono had been going around and she drew some blood. She also ran a pregnancy test, but just to humor my husband. As has occasionally been known to happen, Dan was right. Wow. Pregnant? Not what I was expecting. I wasn’t sure what to think. We hadn’t been planning on having any more kids. I had miscarried twice before my son and had been sick my entire pregnancy along with having gestational diabetes. Pregnancy was not fun for me at all. My husband and I had two eight-year-olds. What did we need with a baby? Up all night, diapers and baby wipes, blood sugars and insulin shots. What a mess. My sister, Shayna, had been trying to conceive for the past four years after having a miscarriage and I was afraid to tell her. I knew she would be happy for me, but I knew it would hurt her, too. I was right on both counts.

After my second bout with gestational diabetes, in January of 2007, I delivered our beautiful Olivia. She is the baby we didn’t know we needed. Thank God, He knew better than we did.

After the baby, I was as tired as any new mom. I was fat, but I just had a baby. At least my hair wasn’t falling out. Unfortunately, my depression sure didn’t take a break. I had lost my job when I was seven months pregnant and we decided that I should stay home with the baby. I tried a multilevel marketing business, which I really enjoyed, but I couldn’t motivate myself to be successful. I knew we needed the money but I just couldn’t make the calls. I’d sit with the phone in hand, knowing how treacherous our finances were, knowing that this should be bringing in more than enough to make up for my old job. I’d think about my kids and that we were barely paying the rent. I knew I was a horrible mother. Only a bad mom would sit there and not make those calls. I had a great leader and a wonderful support group. Those monthly meetings became my primary source of social interaction. They were so positive and uplifting that I always walked out knowing that I was successful. That is, until I tried to focus on my business the next day. Everything I needed to succeed was right there. It was waiting for me. Only a bad mom would wonder how she could buy diapers when the answer was right in front of her. Only a horrible person would make her husband shoulder the full financial burden of a growing family. Only an awful mother would yell at her kids for laughing too loudly and cry when her baby girl smiled at her. By December of 2007, with Dan’s help, I finally realized that my depression was getting out of control.

It was almost New Year’s before I could get an appointment. After discussing my personal history and my current situation, I was officially diagnosed with major depression. I was a little surprised, even after everything I had been going through. Overall, I felt like I was a positive and optimistic person and that I was just going through a rough patch. The counselor told me that I would need to take an antidepressant and it would be at least another month before I could get in for a medication appointment. Now, I don’t even like to take Tylenol for a headache. The idea of taking a medication with a list of side effects longer than my three year-old was pretty intimidating. On the other hand, I wanted to be able to enjoy my kids and be the mom that they needed again. Dan and I talked it over, and over, and over. We finally agreed that if by knowing that I was dealing with depression and knowing that not all of my bad moods were logical we could work together to get through some of these mood swings, I would skip the medication appointment. It was $85 for the first appointment that we didn’t have and I couldn’t afford to spend more money, especially if this was something we could work through on our own.

Two weeks later we were looking at getting evicted, we got a new job as a couple and moved into an apartment supplied by our employer. Our lives were a crazy, stressful whirlwind. The last two years have been a blur now. In January of 2010, sister, Shayna, told me that she had been diagnosed with PCOS. She asked if I knew that it caused depression? I hadn’t known that. After extensive internet searching and book buying, I still don’t know a lot more than I did.

What I have learned is that my depression, acne, hair loss, weight gain and fatigue can all be attributed, in part, to PCOS. I have learned that I should have been on the path to good health eight years ago, but I was let down by doctors who either didn’t realize what the core issue was, or they just didn’t care to help. 1 out of 10 women in the United States is challenged with PCOS. How many of those women think they are horrible mothers? How many are struggling to cope with infertility and still feel feminine? How much money is spent on weight loss, antidepressants and acne medication that won’t work until the underlying issues are resolved?

PCOS attacks vital women in the worst possible ways. PCOS attacks our appearance, our womanhood and our self esteem. I have made it my personal mission to help other women realize that we are NOT stupid, fat and lazy! We are strong enough to survive against incredible challenges. Together, we can all accomplish more!