At age 16 I was diagnosed with PCOS. My GYN informed me that because of the diagnosis and my weight I had a 10% chance of ever conceiving. At that moment I didn't care. I was young and wanted to focus on getting out of my abusive home and go away to college.
Fast forward a couple years. I married my husband at the age of 21. I never told him about my diagnosis of PCOS. When he wanted a family I just thought it would happen. We tried for 2 years and nothing. I was devastated as I knew it was my fault. Yet, for some reason he thought it was him. I figured I would let him think that. But I was dying inside. I decided to return to school and apply for his residency (he was brought into the country illegally by his parents). I started therapy as well. I decided I wanted to lose weight. In November of 2017 I underwent a gastric surgery to lose weight. Two months prior to my surgery, my childhood best friend informed me she was pregnant with baby #3 and didn't feel capable of loving it. She offered her baby to us. I was terrified. I had gotten used to the idea of never becoming a parent. My blessing was born February 21st, 2018. I was present in the delivery room. I was terrified. My husband had been called to his interview and was out of the country. Baby had complications due to substance abuse. The stress and the joy and pride I felt was overwhelming. I did not tell anyone I was adopting. I was afraid of being judged. My husband's visa was approved that same week. He returned to the USA when baby turned 4 weeks. On July 6th I found out I am expecting. God is great. My 10% chance of never having children is growing inside of me. My husband is in love with our adopted baby girl but extremely happy and excited for the arrival of our new bundle.