I was diagnosed with PCOS in the summer of 2014 after 9 months of trying to conceive with no success.
Honestly, it didn’t really come as a surprise to me, but I went home and did the first thing anyone with PCOS does in desperation to understand: I googled it.
I read the list of symptoms and suddenly my past young adult life became a little clearer.
My struggle with weight loss, acne and random cycles (plus much more unglamorous things I won’t mention here) made a bit more sense. And, since we were told we would likely never get pregnant without medical help because of this disorder, I decided that I would take control of it.
I made a secret Pinterest board of quotes about PCOS, diets I could follow to control it, funny memes of sarcastic infertility humor, and a load of other articles and plans I thought would help. I spent my evenings reading articles online and comparing my stories to the thousands of others I read about struggling to conceive due to PCOS, all the while, carrying the heavy burden of infertility on my shoulders.
I was armed and informed, ready to conquer.
The problem though, was that I thought that I could control my body, that I could control PCOS. That maybe if I was skinny enough, regular enough, calm enough, hormonal enough or clear-skinned enough, that maybe that was the key to conceiving.
But anyone who has been at this for any length of time knows that we have no control over infertility.
I had made this a two-dimensional problem—a problem between myself and my body. And, instead of inviting God into counsel or heal me, I shut Him out. I put verses about Him on my Pinterest board but ignored His voice in my heart. That needed to change.
And so, here I sit, 3 years and 1 beautiful baby girl later, still with PCOS, still struggling to understand but not without hope and faith and a bigger-than-ever love for my Lord. When I gave Him control over my body, over my condition, I also gave Him control over my struggle.
When I stopped searching for the perfect solution to PCOS, God met me there. I’m sure He watched me while I battled and moved forward, thinking I could do this without him. Because I couldn’t.
God meets me in my PCOS, in my struggles to stay healthy and fit. He meets me in moments of frustration over a missed cycle or in reflections of myself in the mirror.
He reminds me that He is the one in charge and that I must live three-dimensionally with God—all of me, all of my life, every part. When I surrender my diagnosis, my body, my life to Him, I give Him the opportunity to unequivocally bless and change me. And for that, I am unbelievably thankful.
Lauren Himmelhaver - Fort Worth Local WiH Leader - email@example.com