“More than a 50 people have seen my Ladyville,” I thought to myself as my gynecologist was checking me out yesterday. I looked up to the ceiling and started counting each doctor I had seen since my quest began to get pregnant. I got up to 10, but then realized that they were the most recent ones and I just couldn’t remember the rest.
I’m not sure if you recall, but the fabulous Dr. Rory sent me to a specialist after our little embarrassing moment. After calling local doctors and finding out the cost to see one on my own (I currently do not have insurance so every test, visit and medicine has been paid out-of-pocket), I quickly decided that I was going to accept fab Dr. Rory’s recommendation and went to my appointment. He said Dr. Shay (name changed to protect her wonderful self lol) is a specialist with PCOS and not only has her own practice, but works one day a week at Planned Parenthood. Score! A real doctor and I don’t have to pay for it!
After filling out papers, peeing in a cup “just in case” I was pregnant *rolling my eyes* and waiting an hour among teenage girls needing birth control, or PRAYING not to be pregnant or infested with STD’s, I was called. The medical assistant walked me over to the little area where the pee cups were and there sat my little test, with one little sad lines. I was crushed when I notices that the other cups had test strips with two lines on them. I had a feeling the owners of the other cups wouldn’t have been as happy as I would have been in my test had two lines.
She looked down at my test, wrote something down and then asked me to follow her to the doctor’s office. That’s where I met the wonderful Dr. Shay.
I sat with her for about 10 minutes and we discussed the situation. Usually, she’s not suppose to help girls get pregnant. Planned Parenthood helps girls and guys protect themselves and pushes family planning. She was so sweet and understood my situation. After she drew a chart explaining what was going on with my body (DAMN YOU PCOS), she walked me over to where she would check Ladyville out.
After a few minutes of laying there trying to count the doctors who have seen Ladyville, she decided to check my ovaries. She said they felt normal and told me everything looked good. It made me feel hopeful. She then told me that what I’ve told her and from what she’s seen in the blood results, she suggested that I keep losing weight and go on birth control for 3 months. *POP* Went the bubble of hope I had floating over me.
NOOOOO! Not the dreaded BCP!
She said that being that I just had the longest AF and the biggest clots, she suggested that I get my hormones in order first, then to come back after I was almost done with my BCPs and we would take the next step then. She also suggested that my BF have his little men checked, so we know all is good.
I’m speechless, but I think I will do as she wishes. As much as I wanted to start the TTC journey next month, I agree, my body is "out of whack" right now... more than normal too!
I’m hoping by then I’ll have a full time job with medical insurance and be settled in. So much is going on… so much stress coming at me from different directions… it’s the right thing to do. At least this is what I'm telling myself so I don't break down crying.
As I was leaving, there were two teenagers outside sitting on the bench. I could hear one tell the other, everything is going to be okay," while the other sobbed uncontrollably. I could hear the girl's faint voice say, "My mom's going to kill me," as I walked up the stairs.
As I sat inside my car and had a moment to absorbed what was just said to me, I could feel my eyes swell up with tears. It was tough to stay positive and to be strong, when all I wanted to do was cry. Cry for the way my body has betrayed me. Cry for the miscarriages I've had. Cry for the countless times I've seen a pregnancy test with one line. Cry for the girls who take their children for granted and don't realize what a blessing they are. Cry for not being able to give my boyfriend, whom I love so much, a child.
Then I remembered what someone recently said to me... "God may not come when you want him, but He's always on time." Sometimes I forget to have faith, take it one day at a time, leave it in his hands and just... breath.
I will continue to low carb and lose as much weight as I can during these three months. It’s going to be tough. I will miss feeling part of the TTC communities I'm in and talking about OPKs, temping, charting and everything else related to making a baby, but hopefully it will all work out in the end. I have faith in myself and in God, that everything will work out in the end... the way it was meant to.
When I met EJ, my weight had gone up from about 150, to about 160. I didn't feel much different. My face was still clear and I still could wear fairly decent clothes. I started noticing an issue with my tummy around this time though. I didn't care though, I felt so sexy and happy with my curves. I remember that I was still not eating past 6pm here and my eating habits were still pretty good. I loved my body still, but more likely than not, the lights were not "off" during boom boom time.
This group of pictures are just plain awful. The one to the far left is the result of me stopping my partying, no more dancing, going out and having fun. I began to stay home more and eat. My choices were not so healthy anymore. :( That was probably the highest I ever got, 199. I don't even remember being in the 180s! The middle picture was of when I went with EJ to the beach. I can't believe that I didn't want to show my arms during my trip to Texas (first picture) but I was willing to take it all off here. I probably weighed in at about 195. I can't really tell because it really feels like a memory, jumping from the 160s to the 190s. The last picture is me, probably still around the low 190s. I cut my head off because I looked more than enthused in the picture.
