Our TTC Journey with PCOS

Our TTC Journey with PCOS

Let me start by saying this: trying to conceive (TTC) is not for the faint of heart. It’s an emotional rollercoaster that no amount of Googling or Pinterest boards can fully prepare you for. And if you’re also managing PCOS? Buckle up, friend, because the ride gets a little bumpier.

My husband and I started this journey in August 2022, and while I didn’t know exactly what to expect, I certainly wasn’t ready for how much I’d learn about my body, my health, and my own resilience along the way. Spoiler alert: it’s been a journey full of trial, error, and a lot of advocating for myself.

This is my story so far— the highs, the lows, and all the messy in-betweens. I’ve decided to share this part of my story— not because it’s easy, but because I know SO many other women with PCOS and their spouses are walking this path too. This isn’t just about the mechanics of getting pregnant, it’s about health, mindset, and figuring out how to hold on to hope when the process feels overwhelming.

How it All Began

To really understand where I am today, we need to rewind to November 2017 when I was diagnosed with PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome). Picture it: 20 years old, in college, juggling full-time classes and a full-time job as a bookkeeper at a grocery store. My shifts? 3 PM to “whenever the books balanced,” which usually meant sometime between 1 and 3 AM. I’d go home, crash for a few hours, then drag myself to 8 AM classes like some sort of under-caffeinated zombie.

My meals were an afterthought— usually whatever I could grab from the deli— and exercise? Yeah, no. I went from being super active all my life (basketball, softball, volleyball— you name it) to being stressed out, sleep-deprived, and sedentary, all while getting little real nutrition. Not surprisingly, my body revolted.

At first, my periods just disappeared. I brushed it off as stress and figured they’d come back when life settled down. But when they finally did return, they came back with a vengeance. We’re talking the heaviest, most relentless periods you can imagine— non-stop for six months. Oh, and did I mention I gained 100 pounds in a year during this chaos? (All that hard work I'd put in my junior year of high school to get to my healthiest weight yet, all down the drain).

When I finally went to the doctor, they did an ultrasound, pointed out all the little cysts on my ovaries, and said the words I’d been dreading: “You have PCOS.” My first thought? I’m never going to have kids. My doctor reassured me that wasn’t the case, but if you’ve been in that chair, you know how hard it is to hear anything after “PCOS.”

They prescribed hormonal birth control to regulate my cycles, which helped but didn’t address the root cause. I stayed on the pill for five years, focusing on school, work, and life— until August 2022, when my husband and I decided to start trying for our first baby.

Fast Forward to Our TTC Journey

In April 2022, my husband and I moved into our new home. By August, we decided it was time to start trying for our first baby. Coming off birth control was a leap of faith. At first, my cycles were surprisingly regular, and I thought, Wow, maybe this will be easier than I expected. Ha. HA.

By November 2022, I was tracking ovulation like it was my full-time job. But month after month, those little OPKs (ovulation predictor kits) kept giving me negatives. I couldn’t even get close to a “peak” reading. It was frustrating, exhausting, and honestly, a little soul-crushing.

Over time, my periods started getting more irregular again— further apart, and less predictable. When I resumed tracking, I noticed my LH levels never got above 0.44 on the Premom app. That’s when I knew ovulation wasn’t happening regularly— or at all, even. But, nevertheless, we persisted, month after month, to no avail.

By July of this year, 2024, I hit my breaking point. I called my OBGYN and said, “I’m ready. Let’s do this. Put me on Letrozole or Clomid, whatever it takes. I don't care what it is, but I'm ready to make something happen.”

Focusing On Nutrition and Healthy Habit Stacking

But instead of prescribing me any medication, my doctor suggested (again) that I try working with a nutritionist first. I’d always brushed it off, every time she brought it up, assuming it wasn’t covered by my insurance (spoiler: it was). So in August of this year, I started working with a local nutritionist who specializes in PCOS, and honestly? Game. Changer.

Here’s what we focused on:

• Eating three balanced meals a day: No more coffee-only mornings or skipped lunches. I started getting 25–30g of protein within a couple of hours of waking up.

• Regular movement: Aiming for at least three to four days of activity per week, even if it’s just a mile-long walk.

• Healthy habits: Building consistency with supplements, hydration, balanced meals, and stress management.

The changes didn’t happen overnight, but I started noticing improvements— less brain fog, more energy, more clarity and focus, and even better LH levels on my OPKs. It wasn’t a magic fix, but it was progress nonetheless!

Advocating for Letrozole

By November (aka this month), I felt like I’d done everything I could do on my own. And for TWO years at that. So I called my OBGYN again, ready to advocate for myself. This time, I didn’t hold back.

I explained how much progress I’d made: working with the nutritionist, eating balanced meals, getting consistent movement, and taking my supplements religiously. I told her how I felt better than I had in years— more energy, more focus, and a clearer mind. I was ready.

But despite my progress, she was still hesitant. She wanted me to wait until my BMI dropped further, citing risks like stillbirth (though she admitted these risks are standard across most pregnancies, even without PCOS). I get it— she’s obligated to give me the full picture and help me make informed decisions. But her visible disappointment definitely rubbed me the wrong way: the way her smile faded, her shoulders dropped, and her neutral “okay…” response made it clear she didn’t agree with me moving forward yet.

I kept my composure, though, and stood firm. I reminded her (and myself) that I’ve worked SO incredibly hard to get here— and I'd even come in and get my lab work done to confirm everything. I got my labs back, and my blood sugar is stable, my estradiol is normal, my hormones are balanced, my ovarian reserve is good,, my thyroid is optimal, my habits are locked in, and my body is ready. Eventually, we came to an agreement: I’m set to start Letrozole during my next cycle, but not before doing a full bloodwork panel to ensure everything was good to go, which is what we did.

Seeing those results felt like validation— not just of my decision to push forward, but of all the hard work I’ve been putting in over the past year or longer. From the balanced meals to the sweaty walks to the supplements I never forget to take anymore (even when it feels like a second job), it’s all been worth it.

Which Brings Us To Today

So here I am, sitting on CD8 of this cycle, gearing up for what feels like the start of a brand-new chapter. Letrozole is officially on the horizon, and while I know it’s not some magic wand that guarantees success, I can’t help but feel a little giddy at the thought of finally seeing my body do what it’s supposed to do.

I mean, can you imagine? Actually seeing my LH levels rise? Hitting that first real ovulation peak? I’ve been chasing that elusive moment for over two years now, and just thinking about it makes me want to happy dance all over my living room. 🕺

That said, I’m trying to keep my excitement in check— well, mostly. I know this process takes time, and there’s a chance Letrozole won’t work right away. But for the first time in this entire TTC journey, I feel like I’m in control. The waiting, the wondering, the endless negative OPKs? I’m leaving those in the past. Right now, I’m choosing to focus on how far I’ve come and how ready my body finally feels for this next step.

Letrozole isn’t just “the next thing to try”— it’s the culmination of everything I’ve been working toward. The balanced meals, the supplements I never skip, the walking I’ve actually grown to (kind of) enjoy— every single habit has led me here. And now, it’s time to see all that hard work pay off.

Of course, there’s still a little nervousness. TTC has been a wild ride full of highs and lows, and I know that even with Letrozole, there will be moments of doubt and frustration. But here’s what I’ve learned: those small victories? They matter. The glowing bloodwork, the stable blood sugar, the consistent routines I’ve built— all of those wins are worth celebrating, and they’re proof that I’m moving in the right direction, and that progress isn't at a total stand-still anymore.

What I’m most looking forward to is finally seeing my body respond. Watching those LH levels climb and knowing that, for the first time, my body is getting the memo feels like such a huge win in itself. And while I’m definitely ready to see those two pink lines (hello, dream scenario), I’m also finally feeling ready to embrace each milestone along the way.

Because let’s be real— this journey has tested my patience and my sanity. But it’s also taught me so much about resilience, about advocating for myself, and about showing up for my own health even when it’s hard. It's especially taught me to stop putting limits on a God that has none. Every month I say I fully trust God that it'll all happen in His timing, but then doubt creeps in, undoubtedly every month and I find myself coming up with all the reasons why He shouldn't or wouldn't allow me to get pregnant— and I think it's subconsciously all to protect my heart from another let down each month. But I'm not doing that anymore. I'm praying that He will honor the efforts and strides I've made, and I'm putting my faith in Him fully that He will make this happen (still in His perfect timing, but a fall 2025 baby would be a total dream!) and that I can use all of this as part of my testimony.

So here’s to the next cycle, to rising LH levels, to hopeful mornings spent peeing on sticks, and to whatever comes next. Whatever happens, I’m walking into this chapter with hope, gratitude, and a whole lot of determination. And that? That’s worth smiling about.