Getting Pregnant…with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome
Andy and I tried for what felt like forever to have a baby.
In reality, we only tried for around a year and a half. I went off birth control, and my scans looked great at the time, despite telling my doc I was sure I had polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) prior to starting birth control years before. Month after month and countless negative pregnancy tests compounded our disappointment. Andy saw the fertility doc a year after stopping the birth control to rule out issues with him. We both knew, though, that it was likely me. During the entire year, I’d had all of three periods. The doc said that to confirm anything was wrong with me, we needed to wait until a few days into my next period. I told her that could be months! But, she said this was the best route for us to see. So…105 days later…my next period finally started. Another scan and blood tests revealed ovaries that were more than 1.5x bigger than they should have been due to cysts that had formed. The diagnosis was simple – I had (have) PCOS.
Cue the sigh from my doctor.
“I won’t say it’s impossible,” she said, looking me steadily in the eye, “but I will say it’s improbable. Especially without medical intervention. Possibly not even then.”
My stomach dropped. I just couldn’t believe it. I’m sure I looked like it didn’t bother me as I walked out of the office, but inside I was mourning the loss of a dream we’d had as a couple for our future – surrounded by babies who had my eyes and his personality…
I went home. I scheduled an appointment with the fertility doctor since my doc “couldn’t help further.”
Then, I began to pray (even more).
We had two months until our consultation. During those weeks, I spent tons of time on my knees begging God for some miracle. We both knew that “extreme measures” weren’t something we wanted to get into. I’d maybe take a few drugs, but beyond that, we’d start praying about adoption instead. After years of body issues, I just couldn’t handle one more reason to hate on my body again. I couldn’t go through more disappointment. So, I cried out to God and asked Him for a baby – and if not, to please change my heart to want what He wanted for us.
I started having strange symptoms a few weeks before the consult.
Everything online screamed pregnancy. But the tests all said negative. I began to think that I was going insane and tricking my body into thinking it was pregnant!
The morning of our first consultation with the fertility doc, I awoke so sad. I did not want to start this journey. My husband convinced me to take yet another pregnancy test right before leaving. I begrudgingly obliged. I was already so depressed – why not add another layer, right? Three minutes passed. I grabbed the test, already prepared to issue a scathing I-told-you-so to my hubby.
But I saw two little pink lines instead. Time stood still.
I have never, in my entire life, been more excited.
Allow me to illustrate further. I’d taken a test less than 48 hours before that was negative, friends. To think that the morning of our first consultation with the fertility doctor was the first time I had a positive pregnancy test, when I’d fervently, specifically, prayed to the Lord for us to not have to go through fertility treatments…simply amazing. God’s timing is beyond perfect.
We drove to the doctor with elation instead of dread, where the doc ran a blood test and did some scans. We had to wait for the blood test results to actually confirm the pregnancy. The nurse called a few hours after we got home.
“Well, congrats are in order. You’re definitely pregnant!” she exclaimed.
Sheer thankfulness overwhelmed me. I got off the phone and fell into Andy’s arms. I started bawling and thanking the Lord for such a perfect gift. He truly is the Great Physician.
It was all but impossible, my gynecologist had said — even with medical help. But with God…
Nothing is impossible.
Scarlett is proof!
The pregnancy was beautiful, healthy, and happy.
Everything was surprisingly perfect the entire time, save gaining 10 more pounds than I technically should have, getting an insane number of stretch marks, having low iron at one point, and experiencing heartburn that I swear came straight from the fiery pits of hell.
Read what happened next, friends!
Everything I’d planned for pretty much just fell apart a month before my due date, but you won’t believe what happened in the hospital to change my entire postpartum recovery — mentally and physically.