So, I have PCOS.  Sexy, huh?  That’s short for Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, which in essence, means that I have many cysts on my ovaries which makes it hard for eggs to escape and babies to be made.  You would think that would be it.  You would think that now that I have my babies I wouldn’t care about my PCOS anymore but believe it or not, I still have to battle my ‘syndrome’!  Why?  because a nice little side effect of having PCOS is something called insulin resistance.  That basically means that instead of creating glucose from sugars (fructose or otherwise) for energy, my body does a better than average job of storing those sugars away as fat instead of processing it and using it as an energy source.  Then, because I don’t get that energy boost from the glucose, I want to eat more and the cycle continues.  In addition, my body hangs onto the fat cells like gold.  So I get really fat really really easy, and stay that way because losing the weight is quite challenging.  PCOS be damned!

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When I hit puberty is when my PCOS started rearing its ugly head.  My diet didn’t change and I was a very active kid, but I started gaining weight.  My ninth grade yearbook picture looks like it should be on the staff page, weight makes you look older.   My family thought I was sneaking food at my friends and elsewhere, but I honestly don’t remember eating all that differently than my friends.  My weight gain seemed unexplainable.  There were other symptoms too, let’s just say I was far from ‘regular’, but I didn’t mind that one bit.  I met with doctors and took blood tests, but we couldn’t connect any dots to determine what was going on with me.  It wasn’t until I was in my early twenties that my sister in law sent me an article that matched me to a T: Overweight?  Check.  Irregular?  Check.  Tired?  Check.  Everything in the article sounded like me.  I approached my doctor and she said that it certainly was a possibility.  I decided that for sure, I had PCOS.

PICT0055

A few years ago my doctor suggested I lose about 5% of my body weight in an attempt to boost my fertility chances.  We had been trying for baby #2 for a few years with no luck – even the meds I used to get pregnant with Gigi didn’t work.  I was motivated to lose weight by the chance of a baby, and it worked.  After losing about 50 pounds (way more than the 5% for you mathematicians) I ended up pregnant with Jude.  I also ended up being able to run and play and hike – I felt so good, we were so active!  With the pregnancy, I said goodbye to the diet, assuming that I would hop back on the bandwagon once the baby was born.  That did not happen.  In fact, quite the opposite happened and I ended up gaining some weight back – and it piled on really really fast.  I have spent the last year and a half or so trying to be motivated enough to start it up again.  Then my mom started the battle and lost 40 pounds and I got the motivation I needed, PCOS be damned!

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Last week I started the diet again, in an attempt to get healthy (my focus is always health, thinness is an attractive side effect).  I started eating a ton of vegetables, riding my bike nightly, and am staying away from processed sugars and white stuff like rice, potatoes, and food in the staff room on Fat Wednesdays (the day when we bring treats at my school).  I lost four pounds and hollered it from the rooftops!  “I am losing weight!  I lost four pounds!  This is it!  I am going to do it this time!”  Week two arrived, and using the same strategies, I lost about 1/2 a pound.  While that is nothing to sneeze at, a loss is a loss, it does not help my momentum any.  Of course I want to lose 1-2 whole pounds a week but with my ‘syndrome’ that is difficult.  So here I am now, going into week three with determination.  A pound please, that’s all I ask.  I can do it.  Wish me strength and luck, please.  PCOS be damned!


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I Hate PCOS

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Gigi Said

  • Topless Tapas 2012-11-03 18:44:52-

    Tami was leaving to go out with her friend and the kids begged to go with her. I said, "you don't want to go with mom, she is going to the Tapas bar and we are going to stay here and play games."

    Gigi stiffened, "That's weird", she said as she blushed. I processed fast and realized the problem. "TAPAS bar. It means 'small plate', not TOPLESS bar!"

Jude Said

  • Nicknames 2013-01-04 21:30:33-

    The checker at the store asked our always conversational little boy what his name was. He replied "Jude" then added "but sometimes they call me pumpkin brown". LOL.

    And they are right. We call him that after the folksong that we sing sometimes.

A long time ago…