My mom birthed me at age 16 years old and ever since I could remember, she made me promise her that I would not be a teen mom – that I would do all the things she wanted to do as a teen and young adult. Little did I know, the act of conceiving a child naturally was going to be very hard for me.
I was a late bloomer. Puberty didn’t hit me until age 15! Many women would say, “Lucky you,” but I was internally freaking out and wondering when was I going to get the honor of becoming a woman. When my cycles finally did come, they were sporadic and violently painful, sometimes missing school or work were my only options.
Fast forward about 10 years >>> I’m a newlywed of three years and ready to extend my family. My partner and I are trying BUT no conception.
No one can prepare you for the emotional agony of negative pregnancy tests. I again felt like I did as a teenager – wondering, what is wrong with me? Why NOT me? My husband and I both had careers, owned our home/cars, and weren’t living pay check-to-paycheck. We were ready. My body was not…
At this age in life, my friends were having kids and even my younger sister and brother were having kids. I was becoming angry at the world. I looked around and saw so many people accidentally getting pregnant and women having babies within a year of trying. My hope and energy were drained; we decided to seek out medical help.
Soon after visiting an OBGYN doctor and getting an ultrasound, my husband and I found out that I have PCOS – Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. My pelvic ultrasound reveiled many cysts (former eggs) just sitting in my ovaries. Putting all the technicalities aside, it basically meant my body was not ovulating. I can’t get pregnant without an egg in my uterus. In short, it is just REALLY hard for me to get pregnant.
PCOS is treatable, so through prayer and a hormone regime, we were committed to overcoming infertility. About eight months later, in October of 2013, we were blessed with OUR MIRACLE and finally got a positive pregnancy test.
Before we told any and everyone, we made sure the pregnancy would stick. Sure enough, at 10 weeks pregnant, an ultrasound reveiled I had blood in my uterus – a sign of a miscarriage. My heart dropped. Anger filled my soul. Tears and screams burst from my face. I got myself together the next morning, went to work and taught my class. After school, I drove to an empty parking lot and screamed/cried/prayed some more. My husband called and reminded me that stress will only make my uterus more stressed. So I chose to let go and let God. Within two weeks, the blood cleared up. The chance of a miscarriage had withered away.
I was on my way through a positive pregnancy. Then, week 22 of my pregnancy I started having painful contractions. I couldn’t stand or walk. I was projectile throwing up and could not control my bladder. We rushed to urgent care and urgent care wheeled me into the birthing center. The tears of fear streamed again! The nurses didn’t know if I was having my baby. My husband and I were so scared. The pain was every 5-7 minutes. Fast forward several hours >>> the doctor determined that I was passing a kidney stone and gave me props for handling the pain so well. She said if I can handle kidney stone pain, I can handle childbirth pain too. We thought we were loosing our baby, but God…
Anyhoot, the reason why I’m sharing my story is to remind myself that these kinds of miracles are possible. We are trying to conceive again and my body has been worse after having my first child. People say you’re more fertile after your first baby; well the opposite has happened to me. I didn’t have a cycle until 20 months after having my son. He’s currently 22 months. We are currently on another hormone regime and feverishly putting our faith in God (not ashamed of that).
I may have PCOS for the rest of my life, but through faith and modern medicine, I know it can happen. But if my first miracle is all that is in my deck of cards I’ve been dealt in life, then I’m more than grateful!