My story is not that different from the stories of many women with Premature Ovarian Failure. However, I feel it has a happy ending. It did not start out that happy however. I am 34 years old and started suffering from menopausal symptoms approximately four months after the birth of my son. At the time I was 27 years old. I spent two frustrating years traveling between my gynecologist and family physician trying to find out what the problem was. They told me: “It’s all in your head, try taking birth control pills to regulate yourself, take this Provera for a month to get your period and have this hysterosalpingogram to see if your tubes are blocked.” Finally, I took matters into my own hands and insisted on getting a referral to see an endocrinologist.
I was officially diagnosed based on three weeks of evaluation of my FSH/LH levels and my symptoms. I immediately started on a low dose of Premarin on calendar days 1 – 25 and Provera on calendar days 16 – 25. I would then stop taking the hormone replacement therapy (HRT) and get my period. Well, after several months the symptoms had subsided, but not completely, so my Premarin was increased.
After two years of taking HRT, I also started to see a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE). Unfortunately, many dollars later, the only success I had was a large ovarian cyst which had to be surgically removed. From the RE I did find out that my ovaries are the size of raisins and that the additional blood work supported that I indeed had POF. The reason given was some type of autoimmune disorder, yet I was negative for Lupus, Multiple Sclerosis and a number of other illnesses. I also had no testosterone (no wonder I had no sex drive) as well as elevated cholesterol levels and low DHEA.
Through all of this, my husband was a rock of support and extremely understanding. We had discussed having a large family but realized that would not be our reality. We did think about adoption but decided that this was not the right option for us. I went through the motions of “how fortunate I was” and yet continued on secretly very unhappy and frustrated.
Over the years I went through many ups and downs. I could not bear to see a pregnant woman or hold a child. I looked at women with babies with such longing and loss. The menopausal symptoms started returning (hot flashes, night sweats, dryness, decreased libido, and sleepless nights). I went back to see the RE and he suggested the estrogen patch. I began to wear the patch and had much better results. However, at one follow-up appointment, my RE made two statements that angered me: “Don’t be surprised if this autoimmune disorder starts to attack other organs in your body” and “That’s what KY Jelly is for.” Well, I almost fell off the exam table! How dare HE pass judgment on me and leave me with the feeling of a death sentence. My mind began to reel. What if my body starts to attack itself and I am left a cripple and die at a young age?!
What I did next almost ruined my marriage. I secretly began seeing a RE for more fertility treatments. As a nurse, I could get syringes and inject myself with the drugs. The problem was how to pay for all of this. My HMO did not cover the cost of fertility drugs so I began to charge the drugs and write access checks against my account. My husband had no idea what I was doing as the credit card was in my name only. I hid this terrible secret for 18 months. He asked me several times why we kept getting bills in the mail from this credit card company. I was clever and blew it off.
After 18 months of hiding bills and two days before we were leaving for our two-week vacation, the bill came and my husband opened it. He was alarmed to see a $6,000 balance! He went crazy. I lied and said I had no idea what it was for. The next day I came clean and cried my eyes out over the deceit, lies and guilt over the past 18 months. I did feel better after telling the truth and despite it all he was understanding, loving and supportive and forgave me. I am truly a very fortunate person and I reached a turning point in my life.
Upon returning from our vacation, I decided that POF is not a death sentence unless you make it one. It does not control your life unless you let it. You can come to terms with the diagnosis and decide for yourself how to live your life. I immediately enrolled in a toning program, changed my eating habits and pulled out articles I had received from the support group and re-read them to refresh myself of all the good and positive changes I can make.
The most dramatic difference was that I began taking a nutritional supplement and saw results in about a month. I was sleeping better and my memory was improving (no more getting lost driving around the corner). I again enjoyed being married. In addition, I was off my Prozac and just had a general sense of well being. My husband and co-workers commented on how good I looked and how positive I was. I have to say that at last, after five plus years since I was diagnosed with POF, this is the BEST I have ever felt because I have taken control of my life and POF and have not let POF take control of me anymore. I have a beautiful, handsome 7 and ½ year-old son and the most handsome, supportive and loving husband anyone could ever have.
– January 1998.
