I write about sex, it's the focal point of my life, sex is in everything I do. When I dress I think "sex", when I work I think "sex", and when I'm with my partner it's always "sex". For the past 2 years we've been having sex in the attempts to have a baby. Yes, we love kids, we have a fabulous little boy now who just turned 4 and we've been working tirelessly to have more. Unfortunately, things don't go as planned.

Last year I was officially diagnosed with PCOS. Polycystic (pah-lee-SIS-tik) ovary syndrome (PCOS) can affect a woman's menstrual cycle, ability to have children, hormones, heart, blood vessels, and appearance. With PCOS, women typically have:
  • high levels of androgens (AN-druh-junz). These are sometimes called male hormones, although females also make them.
  • missed or irregular periods
  • many small cysts (sists) in their ovaries. Cysts are fluid-filled sacs.
About 1 in 10 women of child bearing age have PCOS. I've been showing symptoms of it since I was 15. Miraculously, my husband and I were able to conceive our son. We figured after he was born it would be a cake walk to have more children even though I had a very difficult pregnancy. What happened in my pregnancy is that with the influx of hormones, it kickstarted my PCOS causing my symptoms to sort of spiral out of control. I dealt with weight gain, acne, facial/body hair, skin tags, and I developed Type 2 diabetes.

For those 2 years we tried to conceive I had irregular periods, absent periods, and extended periods. I had a "cycle" that lasted for 5 months. Dealing with that I had to go through ultrasounds, cancer testing, and having to be placed back on birth control. The gynocologist made the promise that by getting my periods under control that it would be smooth sailing, but it wasn't. It was one of the most emotional times of my life.

Every month you have the hope that "this is the month". That this month is THE month, and the pee stick will finally have 2 pink lines. Month after month after month they only had one. I watched as my friends and family got pregnant, feeling depressed as I got the call of "I'm pregnant!" from those closest to me. Presently, my best friend, 3 other friends, and my cousin are pregnant. I've looked at their ultrasounds, heard their stories over how their other children love the idea of having a new baby in the house, and I've had to learn to cope. You don't want to be the woman standing in the corner at someone's baby shower crying.

All this time I've heard "it will happen, don't worry." And yet it hasn't. I was prescribed Metformin with the hopes of it happening, Clomid. We've had to rearrange doctors because the ones I have aren't getting me anywhere. I'm fighting with my insurance for them to cover IVF or at least an IUI. This is a dream we want to make a reality. As of yet it seems like something incredibly unobtainable but I want it, I will wish it and I will will it. This will happen, I just don't know when. Family have told us to be happy with the little boy we have now, I was even told by someone that PCOS is God's way of preventing women who shouldn't be mothers from having children. In this year I've had to gain an understanding of my syndrome and what I can do to combat it so that it doesn't beat me down.

My last ultrasound revealed that my ovaries are completely covered in cysts and that I'm anovulatory. Even though I have a bleed during a cycle, I'm not releasing eggs. Every day I have to deal with that and pray that for once I can somehow get around it. That maybe this month I will. There's a lot of maybes in my life, I haven't heard a yes for a long time.

Learning how to cope is like learning how to live. It's becoming adjusted to a new life that you never planned for and certainly never wanted. There's a lot more to my story that is just impossible to explain and some things that I'm emotionally unable to. My husband and I have been through so much together in these past 2 years that proved to be the ultimate test of our relationship. We're built to last and at least I have my partner to help me go through this with. I watch as he tears up when we see newborns and sometimes he has to help me calm down when he sees my eyes mist over. He changes the subject, trying to deviate me from the pain I feel. Unfortunately, even though we've tried as a couple to help one another we've still had to deal with our own individual anxieties. There was a time where we stopped having sex. That it felt routine, the sex where we tried week after week after week to make it happen. It wasn't sex, it was mechanic. For a moment I loathed it, it wasn't sex to bring us closer together, it wasn't sex that was fun, it was sex that had a goal and I buckled a few times from the sheer weight of the feeling of obligation. It felt like a task, it became a job. We took a break but it was always on the back of my mind, I said, "even though we're not trying maybe this is the month it will happen." It didn't.

This blog post isn't over and done with as this story still has yet to have an ending. We're still trying and we'll keep trying until we're parents again.