Diagnosis

I have a guest post over at No Good Eggs. I am one of Kimberly’s guest bloggers while she is on vacation. My post is about my premature ovarian failure diagnosis. After I wrote the post Kimberly said I left her hanging a bit and asked for more. By the time I sent her “more” she had already left for vacation. So below…is the rest of the story.

If you are one of my readers be sure to head over to No Good Eggs for the beginning of the story.

If you are new and are here from Kimberly’s blog. Welcome!

AFTER MY DIAGNOSIS

My diagnosis came with no explanation, no treatment plan, no advice, nothing. Initially, I did not even really understand what it meant. Being a type-A personality, I am addicted to knowing all the information, uncovering all of the answers. I found myself on a mission to not just understand and treat this newly discovered diagnosis, but to also uncover the mystery of how I had never known about it.

I searched the internet. I ordered books. I referred myself to the only local reproductive endocrinologist. And I began requesting old medical records.

The reproductive endocrinologist confirmed my diagnosis and educated me about the medical risks associated with premature ovarian failure, including other autoimmune issues and osteoporosis. Meanwhile, I poured over my old medical records determined to find an answer. And the answer I found was only more confusing and upsetting.

My medical records actually indicated I had been told I have premature ovarian failure. I felt lost. How could I have been told, yet not know? Did I, still a child, just misunderstand? Did my mother, despite being a registered nurse, also misunderstand? Did the doctor say one thing and chart another? Did my mother know and just keep it a secret from me? Was no one brave enough to tell a teenager she would likely never have children?

These questions followed me for years. Not yet pursuing children, I willed myself to focus on the medical aspect of my condition. It is easier to think about good bone health than broken ovaries.

Finally – over two years later – I confronted my mother with these questions, with my diagnosis. She was shocked, stating she too never knew. Emphasizing what a crazy time in our life that was due to (unrelated) issues going on in our family. This left me with a mix of emotions. Relief that I was not the only one who did not know and that she had not been keeping a secret from me. Frustration that she did not fight harder for answers for me. Abandonment in that once again I had been the child whose issues had been deemed the lesser issues, so much lesser in fact that those issues were unmemorable, forgotten entirely.   

My diagnosis of premature ovarian failure has been a rocky road emotionally. Being “diagnosed” so young and learning of my diagnosis years before we started wanting to conceive, my journey has looked a little different from most who discover their infertility while actively and unsuccessfully trying to conceive. It is however, this journey which led us to embryo adoption and our miracle, Leland.