Growing up, I always thought about meeting that special someone and getting married. I would pull the flat sheet from my bed and tuck it into my pony tail and pretend that I was a bride with a really long veil/train....walking around my room pretending to marry different boys in my class (whom ever I had a crush on at that time). No offense to Greg, Scott, or any of the actual boys I later dated as a teenager, but I found my husband after high school when I was in my 20's, and I would never want anyone else. Unless he's Ryan Gosling...... ALWAYS PICK G-DAWG!
Photo from: http://www.beautyandthegroom.com/children-presence-at-the-wedding
I was taught at a young age that I was to grow up, get married, have babies, clean the house, take care of my husband and make sure dinner is on the table for when he gets home. I come from an old school European home were generations of women before me have followed this and even perfected that life. My paternal grandmother was an amazing cook. My father, who was the youngest, still remembers her being able to cook anything given to her and make it taste so wonderful (including whale! YUCK!). Keep in mind, this was at a time when food was being rationed because of the WWII. My paternal grandfather passed away when my father was 9 and she was left to raise her children on her own and though she struggled trying to raise them ...she still managed to keep a roof over their heads and food in there bellies. Even though I didn't get to met her as she passed away before my father even got married, I've always felt connected to her. Not only is she the only one in the family that I look like, (I seriously thought I was the FEDEX kid for most of my childhood!) but I have always had a love for food and cooking that I think may have been passed onto me from her. It was not until recently that I learned she was a wiz around the kitchen, and I doubt that I will ever be as good as her. But I sure can make a mean meal following a recipe!!! :D
As a kid, my mother was always a stickler for making sure the house was spotless. She was a clean freak! Everything had a place. I was her messy child (no doubt, I inherited that gene from my father). I wasn't dirty, but I didn't like to make my bed, clean up my toys or books, especially in my room. As I got older, I did get better. But I also learned that keeping and impeccably clean house didn't necessarily mean a happy house. Currently, my house is tidy....but I'm sure I have some cobwebs I haven't swept away, clean laundry that needs to be put away, or breakfast dishes in the sink. But I do try. As long as you don't look in my craft room.....never look in the craft room!!!
In my middle school and high school years I started to see that being a female did not mean that I couldn't have a career. But if I wanted both, I was going to have to work hard. I was fortunate enough that even though I attended an inner-city school, I had AMAZING educators that gave us the proper tools and helped us become integral, upstanding, contributing citizens to society. Many of us looked up to them; many of us wanted to be them. A lot of us ended up going on to be teachers, nurses, entrepreneurs, skilled workers, police officers - successful in our chosen career path. I always wanted to be a teacher or a nurse. And though obstacles prevented my intentions.... I knew I always wanted to be a mom. And unless I really did get to marry Ryan Gosling (maybe he can be my trophy husband) ... being a homemaker in this lifetime is gonna be tough!
My husband is a wonderful, caring, understanding, kind, and forgiving man. We have had a hard and tough relationship do to unforeseen circumstances completely out of our control, nor inflicted by each other. But loving him is easy. I don't know about other couples who have been married for 20, 50, or even 70 years that can say that they had as rough of a time in their entire marriage as we have in the first 10 years of our relationship. But to have that plus be delivered such a blow 5 years into our marriage that it will be hard - maybe even near impossible to have children....made me angry.
I went through the motions..... denial, anger, bargaining, and depression. Acceptance didn't come until MUCH later.....I don't have PCOS. I'll just go on with my life, lose a bit of weight and everything will be fine. I didn't want to have PCOS! Why after everything that I had been through in my life was I to be cursed with it?!?! When every other female around me blinked and got pregnant. They didn't have to worry about what they ate and never gained a pound. Didn't have to go through doctor after doctor poking prodding at her like a lab rat. Okay god, c'mon, just please let me get pregnant....just once. With twins and I'll be done. I promise I'll be really good ...just one time and I won't bother you again.
And then it got really bad. I didn't want to be around anyone. I stopped taking any form of medication I was prescribed (Hormones and Metformin). I stopped caring about what I ate. I just ate whatever was around. I would go to work...come home and park myself in front of my computer. I would surf online for hours until bedtime... make my way to bed...toss and turn all night... get up after another sleepless night...push myself through the day and repeat it all over again. It didn't help that at the time I had a pretty stressful job do to the clientele that came in. They just fed my anger and dug the depression hole deeper. My husband didn't know what to do. We barley spoke to each other. And when we did... it made things worse. He wanted to pull me out of the funk....and I just wanted to be left alone. We argued about children, about possible adoption, about the bills, about money. Everything just seemed to be piling up. I didn't want to be there anymore. I didn't want to live anymore. Everything I ever wanted...truly, never turned out. Why would I want to go on? I had nothing...where was my purpose? Where was my place in this world? Why did I not just become a working woman, a nomad, a gypsy? Instead I'm living a life of heartache and disappointment.
I thought about leaving....a lot. We weren't "us" anymore. I felt that we were on different sides of the playing field and we couldn't come together. I especially felt guilty that I couldn't give him a child. I knew I was pushing him away from me because I wanted him to find someone who could give him a baby. Someone who was better for him. A women who would treat him better. Who would take care of him and the family they made together.
I tried to push myself out of my funk, tried to spend time with friends.... but when a lot of my friends were starting to have babies.... the majority of the events we attended, were baby showers. Pretty much the last place I wanted or needed to be. To be asked... when are you guys gonna have babies?? Or being nudged by one of the ladies followed by a "you're next" was not what I was needing at that moment. I would always have anxiety leading up to the day of the party. Literally calming and coaching myself in the car on the way there. Wondering how I would handle these different types of situations....making sure to smile and stay calm....give a generic "Not yet" or "maybe soon" response to everyone who would ask. Don't get me wrong, I was genuinely happy for my girlfriends. I love their kids and play with them every chance I get. But when you are that depressed, that separated from the core of who you really are, you are just trying to hold the pieces together with water.
Acceptance came when I realized that I needed to change. Without it, I knew that I was going down this dark road alone... a road that I had been down before, and it was not a pleasant one. I knew I needed to switch gears, do something different as what I was doing was not getting me anywhere. I needed to get myself to a doctor that could help me with conceiving and not just give me some pills and hope for the best. I needed someone to guide me on this course of living with PCOS. I needed direction. I needed to feel like myself again.
So I started to eat better. I started to spend quality time with my friends again. I started to take my medication. I sought out a new doctor to help with my fertility struggles. I went to my Naturopath to direct me into a healthier eating pattern with my PCOS in mind. I made more time for myself. Time to de-stress from life. I started to read again..... listen to music (one of my passions in life). Slowly I became me again. I could see the person I am looking forward to growing into. I have seen things from a different side. I became more open, less judgmental, more comfortable in my life and the path that I was taking. I came to a realization that I cannot let PCOS run my life. I know the symptoms I have because of it need to be controlled. And I can see the signs of them (depression, mood swings, hormonal shifts, anxiety) when they approach. And when they do, I need to take action immediately.
So I'm keeping positive and focused on the goal. Everyday is a winding road.....Everyday is a battle.
This is my Waterloo.
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