So… I kind of went silent for a few days. I’m sure Kate would put a much more positive spin on things, but I’m feeling like a big old failure.
I honestly thought going to the doctor would clear up my insecurity and give me a black or white answer “yes/no, you can create life.” And Kate and I were happy to take whatever that answer was and run with it. … Our executive lesbian plan was in the back pocket for the negative response.
The doctor’s diagnosis was that I have PCOS. I was really surprised. According to him, I don’t have any of the usual indicators of it – no hirsuitism, periods not completely out of whack. I am overweight, but that’s it.
I pride myself on being a healthy overweight person – everything else is in the healthy range – cholesterol, insulin, vitamins (I’m a bit D deficient), thyroid, blah blah…. In fact, my cholesterol has gone down, and my D deficiency has gotten so much better.
But – my hormones are fucked up. Too much testosterone, way too much prolactin, my SBHG was low, and my Free Androgen Index was high.
And now I have this syndrome which no one really knows much about – why, how, what, etc. and the internet has heaps of different responses about how one fixes it – there is no cure, it’s something that you try to manage in different ways, but you can’t fix it. I hate that.
I hate that going to the gym has done nothing. I hate that all anyone can say is that I am fat and that this is a problem and I now feel like I have ruined everything. The last year has been a waste. I don’t like wasting time. I like plans. I like dead lines. I like knowing what my life will be. I like making plans and making them become reality.
I’m frustrated that I couldn’t come in and fix this. That I couldn’t just make us pregnant. When Kate decided to let me get pregnant, I envisioned getting pregnant right away so that she wouldn’t have to feel bad about it not being her. That it wouldn’t rub salt in the wound. I never want her to be sad or upset and now… Here we are.
Very little about this experience has been good for my self esteem. I would say that I am at a worse point than I was when I was a fat teenager, trying desperately to make people not notice how shitty I was. Everyone telling me that my weight was going to kill our chances of becoming pregnant hasn’t helped either. I have been fat for a vast majority of my life. Does that keep me from doing things? No. Even at my most active (dance twice a week, stage combat twice a week, walking about 100 blocks a day when I was in conservatory) I was a size 22.
We haven’t been told we can’t get pregnant. What we have been told is that it will be very difficult. The doctor recommended that I drop about 10% of my body weight (15-ish kilos). I am committed to that. But… That’s not guaranteed to give us a baby. What’s upsetting to me is that he wants to put me on metformin.
I am not sure about going on medicine for a condition I don’t have – it’s used to treat diabetes – and I’m not sure of the actual benefit. To be very honest, I kind of stopped hearing what he was saying after a while. I have a terrible habit of looking engaged and using non verbal communication but not listening. I’m trying to work on it.
The plan is for me to do another round of blood tests to see if he can detect progesterone in my system around ovulation time and to do another AMA test. We are going to try this month too (apparently the HyCoSy raises the chance of conception the month you do it). If it doesn’t work – he is going to refer me to an endocrinologist and we are going to talk about taking a break.
After the appointment I cried a bit… Talked it out with Kate, but because I was in shut down mode, we didn’t get far. She dropped me home (she had to go to work) and even when she got home, I didn’t engage much. I went up to bed at 9:30 and stayed up until very late. Tossed and turned that night. When morning came, I had to go to work – it’s a busy time of year and I couldn’t just not show up. But…. I was allowed to put on headphones and do my reporting and get work done in relative silence.
By 4pm, my boss (a close friend) couldn’t stand it and he pulled me aside and I actually started talking about it. He is very good at reading me and knowing how to interact with me. I was feeling a little lighter by the time I left work that day.
I think so much of the frustration comes from blaming myself. Also – the last 10 months have been forward planning for a baby. (“No, we might be pregnant”, “ooh, but what about possible maternity leave?”) and to find out that it could be years has me in a tailspin. We haven’t discussed the diagnosis with anyone else. (just my boss and Kate know – no family,or interested friends yet.)
I really don’t know what to do. Nothing for Kate and I has been terribly easy (LD relationship, immigration, visas, weddings, blah blah) but she and I are strong. I just wanted this to be a fun, easy thing. It’s starting to not be either of those.