Relationships, love and infertility

This feels like an oddly personal topic to be writing about on a public blog, especially for me; a private, reserved, keep-myself-to-myself kind of person. But as I’m getting older, infertility is creeping up my list of things I need to be worried about. For me, fertility is a multi-faceted source of conern.

A little under a year ago I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, or PCOS. Women with PCOS either don’t ovulate at all, or ovulate irregularly and infrequently. Without ovulation, there can be no conception. And so a common symptom of PCOS is infertility. In fact, many women aren’t diagnosed with PCOS until they attempt to conceive and find that they can’t. Luckily for most women with PCOS, there is a drug called Clomid or clomiphene, which can be used to stimulate ovulation and has a pretty good success rate. When Clomid is unsuccessful, IVF is usually the next option.

For me, however, those options are pretty much void. Because my EBV symptoms are so closely tied to my hormones, I currently take bioidentical oestrogen. My own oestrogen levels are excessively low due to PCOS, and when my oestrogen levels are lower, I get sicker. So I supplement with oestrogen and I feel somewhat better. I’m still trying to get my head around this relationship. It seems like friggin’ sod’s law that I would have chronic EBV which is activated when my oestrogen is low, AND PCOS which means my oestrogen is chronically low. I often think about this. I believe that a healthy body is a healthy body, and an unhealthy body is an unhealthy body. I just don’t think that diseases can be independent of each other, and I wonder if my hormones and therefore my PCOS, would improve or even resolve if my body could effectively deal with the EBV. Whether or not I will ever find out the answer to that question, I don’t know.

The catch-22 is that fertility drugs, including Clomid and those used for IVF, would require me to stop taking oestrogen. And that would mean being horrendously sick. It would mean giving up work, giving up my social life and hobbies, and spending the vast majority of my time in bed, horribly sick. This isn’t just a glass half-empty moment; I’ve been there before, with my own super-low levels of oestrogen and the EBV in pretty much a permanent state of activation, and it wasn’t pretty.

So, if at some point in the future I wish to have children, there’s a good chance I’d need to stop the oestrogen in order to do so, and I have to seriously question whether I want children that much or not. The other factor of course, is that raising children whilst chronically sick would be quite a challenge. I already struggle to keep up with the demands of life. A full-time job is extremely difficult at times, and if it weren’t for my current employer’s flexibility with working patterns and allowing me to work from home, I probably wouldn’t have a job at all. Household chores are also difficult at times, and I’m lucky to have a boyfriend who shows me endless amounts of patience, understanding that sometimes I can do more, and sometimes less. But add looking after children to that mix, and I honestly don’t think  I would manage.

So ultimately, I think my ability to have children rests entirely on finding some answers to EBV, and finding a way to improve my quality of life. I gave up on any realistic chances of finding a complete cure some time ago, but I do hope that I may be able to achieve a level of health that will allow me to conceive and raise children.

I’m 28 years old and, for the first time in my life, I have a man by my side who I think I’d quite like to be the father of my children. That is a wonderful thing, but it brings with it many emotions. Sadness and grief that I may never be able to fulfil that dream, disappointment that it might never be the happily ever after I dreamed of as a child, and worst of all, guilt that not only may I not be able to realise my own dreams, but that I may kill someone else’s dreams too.

For now, I am trying to live by the rules I always made for myself. Live for today, not tomorrow. Focus on what you can do, not on what you can’t do. And think about what you have got, not on what you haven’t.

 

Where I’m at now

Read My story Part 1 and My story Part 2

8 months after receiving a diagnosis, I am doing much better. I have many days where I feel well, I have energy, and I can spend time doing the things I love, with the people I love.

But I am nowhere near a level of health that I am happy with. I still have many days of sickness. The last month has been particularly bad, for reasons I’m not entirely sure of – stress I’m sure is a factor, having just moved house and having some emotional stresses recently too.

My latest bloodwork showed that my oestrogen levels are within the normal range, although still on the low side. All my other hormones are now normal, presumably thanks to the medications I am on and the lifestyle/diet changes I have made.

My attention recently has moved towards other factors besides hormones. Ultimately I have a burning desire to understand WHY this has happened to me. Sure, my hormones have been all over the place and I know that this makes me very sick. But WHY does it make me sick? There are millions of women all over the world with PCOS, but most of them don’t have CAEBV. I believe that something has gone fundamentally wrong with my immune system. I believe that being on the contraceptive pill at such a young age may have had something to do with that; the undeniable link between my symptoms and contraceptive pill use in my teenage years points me in that direction. But I’m not on the pill now, and my hormones are (relatively) normal. So why do I still get sick?

In creating the ‘About ebv’ page for this blog, I have found some new research about CAEBV. I have yet to read them in full (academic publications about the immune system don’t exactly make for light reading…), but I am hoping to get a better understanding of what scientists DO know about CAEBV, and what treatments are being investigated. I know that my chances of receiving any of those treatments anytime soon are very slim, since most of them are only in the experimental stages. But knowing that there are people out there trying to make sense of this illness, and trying to find novel treatments to improve the quality of life of people like me, fills me with so much hope. I am so unbelievably grateful that I have a diagnosis, that I have the ability to follow and understand the science, that there are people out there trying to find answers, and, most importantly, that I have wonderful loved ones who are on this journey with me.