Are you ready for the personal piece?
Living with PCOS isn’t easy. Not by any singular long shot.
PCOS brings with it a myriad of things that you have to live with:
Excess Hair [Hirsutism]
Irregular periods with a possible small amount of spotting
Painful periods when they do decide to come
Oh yeah, self hatred.
People do not understand the sheer heart-brokeness that comes along with PCOS for someone who is trying her hardest to create a family. It isn’t “just a syndrome” or “just cysts.” It is the knowledge that your body is imperfect and unable to handle the one thing a womans body should be able to do. It is the knowledge that nothing you do – nothing – will ever take the syndrome away. I can lose any amount of weight that I can, and it still will not take it away. I will have these effing cysts till the day that I die. They will control my life and my family dreams forever.
The worst part is when you begin to lose your identity to this curse. You cease to be “so-and-so” and turn into “so-and-so-with-PCOS.” You identify yourself as a PCOSee and are no longer a “normal” person. You find yourself looking at every baby or child and hating your ovaries, seeing people with blooming bellies at thinking “PCOS has robbed me of that.”
Another thing that is incredibly hard to deal with is the sheer jealousy that must seep out of your pores whenever you see a pregnant woman or a new born baby. It doesn’t matter if it is a family member, a stranger, a friend or a work colleague. The hate you feel toward yourself, you have hidden behind a mask of green-as-grapes jealousy. Common questions for me at this point tend to lean toward:
Why not me?
When is it my turn?
Why do they get a baby and I just get hair?
What have I done to deserve this?
Who the hell decided I was strong enough for this?
Of course there is no answer to ANY of the above questions. There has been no link thus far as to whether it is familial or hereditary, whether it is a factor of environment or something that the mother ate whilst pregnant. NO ONE KNOWS but hopefully, one day, someone will.
Living with PCOS is like belonging to an exclusive club which you have had to give up your motherhood rights to join. But there are no funky badges or cool shoe laces. There are just tears and hate and heartbreak.
People don’t realise that asking someone “when are you having babies?” can be devastating, and heart breaking. I no longer ask anyone this question because, for all I know, they may be wrestling the same damned demon I am, And I wouldn’t even wish this on my worst enemy.