This is a post I wasn't sure I was going to write, but after thinking about it all day, I decided to go ahead and do so. What's the point in hiding and keeping it to myself? It's not really a big deal, other than I finally know what's up with me. I finally know after 8 years of infertility what the deal is. So, here goes... (you might want to grab a cup of coffee...)
I have to start off by saying the doctor I've had for the last seven years is really a good person. A wonderful, compassionate human being. He had wonderful bedside manner. However, diagnostically, he just wasn't helping me. He was perfectly content to let me coast on by and never attempt to fix or put a name to my condition. When I say condition, here are my symptoms:
- infertility
- annovulation
- weight gain
- forgetfulness
- extreme hypothyroidism
- sluggish, constantly fatigued feeling
- depression
I went months, then years, trying infertility treatments. Never sure what the real problem was. In my mind, I always thought, "There HAS to be a reason. I was not just born this way". The only time I was ever really given much of a diagnosis was when I was coming out of surgery. I was advised that I have polycystic ovarian syndrome. This was the cause of my infertility. I wasn't ever really tested for it. Small cysts were found on my ovaries, but that's pretty much where it was left. I was naive and believed my doctor - that I was just born this way, and that we could take temporary measures to treat my condition.
Well, I got a phone call from my mom not long ago. She was concerned about my health and had delayed telling me that. She didn't want to hurt my feelings. That was the wake up call I needed to change doctors. Believe it or not, this was a hard thing for me to do. I was kind of attached to my doctor. We'd been through a lot. He held my hand as we went back for the D&C after my miscarriage. And, he continued to hold my hand until I fell asleep. But, as much as that meant to me, I knew it was time for a change.
My mother in law had suggested an OBGYN's office a long time ago because she knew one of the ladies who works there. I gave them a call. I was able to get in right away. I see a nurse practitioner and she is wonderful. She spent 45 minutes with me after I had met with the nurse and she explained that with my symptoms, she really believed I have PCOS. So, she scheduled a sonogram and bloodwork to see if we could confirm that. At the sonogram, the tech was fantastic. She explained everything she saw and advised the NP would meet with me afterwards to discuss everything.
Turns out, my ovaries showed little to no sign of PCOS. When the nurse practitioner came in, she said, "Well, I am stumped!" (at my first appointment, I told her I would stump her!). She really thought that my symptoms closely resembled PCOS (I only have 2 or 3 symptoms), but she thought I may also have lupus. For those of you who watch House... It's never lupus.
So, I had my blood drawn for a lupus panel and the NP advised she would talk to the head doctor of the office and see if he had any other ideas of what it could be. That afternoon, I got a call back that he really believed I have Hashimoto's Disease, with a touch of PCOS. The simplest explanation is I have a thyroid autoimmune disease. So, guess how you work with it and treat it? Weightloss. Which is really ironic - weightgain is one of the symptoms. Suck.
So, I should be thankful that I've been diagnosed. I should be thankful that it's not lupus (not 100% sure on that... still awaiting labs, but they really don't think that's what it is).
But honestly, I'm not thankful. I'm pretty depressed actually. I hate that I have trouble with my weight. I hate that because of my condition, it's harder to lose the weight. I hate that I don't like fruit. I hate that I can't eat sweets anymore. I know... I'm being a Debbie Downer. But, this is really hard for me. I feel like I've lost a vice - I've lost a comfort thing.
So, the reason I decided to post this is the same reason I post entries about our miscarriage and infertility. If one person reads this, and it helps them because they know they're not alone, it's worth it. I think I've said before, infertility is a very lonely place. If one person knows that I hate it that I can't have cake just like them, then it's worth it!
So, there you have it... my diagnosis. My life sentence. There's no curing this, so I'd better learn how to live with it. If any of you are pray-ers out there, please pray that I can come to a peace about this and not be so bitter. And, that I learn to love the taste of carrots instead of carrot cake.