I don’t even know how many times I’ve rewritten this post. Every time I sit down, it feels like I’m trying to lay down the foundation of a story that shaped me in ways I’m still unpacking. I’m trying to paint the picture when in reality, it was anything but neat or linear.

If you missed Part 1 of my PCOS and Fertility Journey, you can catch up here.

The Diagnosis That Didn’t Mean Much… Yet

When I was first diagnosed at 18, no one properly sat me down and explained Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). There was no welcome package explaining why my periods were missing, why my chin hair was showing up like clockwork, or why I was always so fatigued. Instead, it was like: “Here’s birth control, this will help”. So, year after year, I stayed on it. And year after year, I told myself I was ‘managing’ my PCOS but really, I was just masking it. I spent nearly 10 years on birth control to ‘regulate my hormones’. Looking back, it’s wild to think about that my entire 20’s were basically spent covering up my PCOS symptoms instead of actually managing them. I feel so sad for that girl, for that version of me 😪.

Fast forward to the end of my 20’s to when I was getting married. My husband and I knew we wanted to start trying for a baby right away because we didn’t know if it would even be possible. I had so many doctors tell me in the past that it probably would not happen for me. But I had heard and seen other women who had PCOS share their stories, it was all new territory, but I wanted to see what my body would/could do. So I came off the pill, fully expecting my body to just bounce back within a couple cycles. Spoiler alert: it did not.

The Period That Never Came

Month after month… nothing. Then there’d be random spotting that gave me false hope. It actually took almost three years before my period returned. What made it even more confusing was that some months I’d get positive ovulation tests, so naturally I’d think, okay, this is it. But then a period wouldn’t come. Later, through research, I learned that people with PCOS often have naturally higher LH levels throughout their cycle. Which means those “positives” can actually be false alarms 🫠. Great, right? Just one more thing no one ever explained to me that I had to figure out on my own. When I say I kept reading and researching, I’m not kidding, it almost became like a low-key obsession.

There I was, typing away at 1 am on Google asking, “How to get your period back naturally with PCOS”, “How to know if I’m ovulating”, “PCOS and fertility”. I had no clue what ovulation even really was, and I definitely didn’t understand that years of birth control had basically pressed pause on my ovaries. Yikes.

That’s when I realized: no one was coming to rescue me. I had to be my own advocate. Ask better questions. Learn my body. Build my own healing team.

Building My Healing Team

The team I build is still evolving but they were the people who made me feel seen and supported:

Endocrinologist: I was recommended to visit an endocrinologist who did my ultrasounds, finally explained insulin resistance and how it was tied to my metabolism, cycles, and energy. The puzzle pieces started making sense. We discussed the importance of being at a more healthier BMI (Body Mass Index) in hopes of getting my cycles back before even considering having a baby. I made mental notes and thing’s began shifting.

Chiropractor (Dr. Didar Grewal): He helped realign my body, I’d always struggled with chronic back pain, which we eventually realized was actually cycle related. His approach wasn’t the typical ‘crack everything’ intense kind of chiropractic care. Instead, he used a specific tool and a gentler method that worked so much better for me. He also taught me stretches and helped me understand my stress points, plus he introduced me to full-body red light therapy, which became a regular part of my healing on my journey.

Me (and my family/friends): I’m so grateful for my friends and family because they pushed me, encouraged me, and led me toward resources I might not have found on my own. But it was all up to me at the end of the day, I had to be the one to advocate for myself. Cue Snoop Dogg’s speech, “I want to thank me” LOL, because it really was me showing up day after day, googling, trying again, and telling myself to keep going.

The First Sign of Hope

One day in March 2021, my period came back. I literally did a double take. Like… “wait, is this real?!” It felt like my body was whispering, “I’m still here. I just needed time”. I cried and felt like all the ‘work’ I was putting in was helping.

But it still wasn’t simple after that. Some months I bled twice, other months nothing at all. Some cycles I ovulated, others I didn’t. And all the while, we were trying to conceive. Honestly? It was draining. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

And then there was the other layer: stress.

Stress, Cortisol & “Smiling Through It”

Here’s the thing no one really tells you, all those external stressors? They matter. They raise cortisol. You’re probably thinking, “Gurp, what the heck is cortisol?” Let me simplify it, cortisol is your body’s main stress hormone. It’s like an alarm system that kicks in when you’re under pressure. A little bit is normal (it helps you wake up in the morning and gives you energy), but when it stays high for too long like when you’re constantly stressed, it can throw off your hormones, mess with your cycles, and make PCOS symptoms worse (Fight of Flight activated!). And at that point in my life, I was carrying so much.

I was worrying about family, taking on stressors that weren’t even mine to take on. Trying to support everyone else while still trying to show up for myself. Pretending I was ‘fine’. Smiling at events, laughing with people, when inside I was low key exhausted. Looking back, I don’t even think I processed the extent of what was happening. I just kept shaking it off, resetting every month like, “Okay, maybe next cycle…next month…next time”.

I even kept a physical book where I taped all my ovulation tests side by side so I could watch the lines (hopefully) darken day by day. I had apps on my phone, notes, and endless screenshots. And yet, at the same time, I forced myself to stay busy, going to weddings, showing up at work, filling my days with anything I could. Because I knew if I stopped and sat with the reality of constant failed cycles, I would get really low. Keeping busy became my coping mechanism, even if it meant I was just running on fumes.

And then there was also another layer of dealing with the constant “When are you having a baby?” questions at events, surrounded by people who were pregnant or already holding newborns. How I chose to handle those situations, and the mindset that helped me keep moving forward, deserves its own space… so I’ll save that for another blog post.

I didn’t always know how low or high I was supposed to feel, so I just floated in this strange in-between. Some days I’d bounce back quickly, convincing myself it didn’t even affect me… but looking back now, I wonder if that was actually a trauma response and my way of protecting myself from how heavy it all really was.

Sound familiar? If you’ve been here, you know that cycle of hope → crash → reset. It’s brutal.

Shifting Into Something Deeper

Then, suddenly in July, grief came. My little cousin passed away, and it cracked me open in ways no diagnosis ever could. It was sudden, painful, and layered on top of the non-stop internal struggle I was already carrying. That time forced me into complete surrender, realizing there was truly nothing in my control. I remember my best friend sharing an analogy with me about Hukam. In Sikhism, Hukam translates to Divine will and cosmic order. I was struggling with accepting my cousin’s passing, with even accepting death itself, and she gently reminded me “It is Hukam”. She explained it like this, “We are all fish swimming with the stream, and when we resist Hukam, it’s like trying to swim upstream. We end up hitting against rocks, colliding with others, and only causing ourselves more pain”. That visual was eye-opening for me.

Where This Leaves Us

If you missed where this all began, you can read Part 1 here.

I hope you’re enjoying this series, there’s still so much more to share. Writing about this season has been healing for me, and I hope it helps even one person feel a little less alone. If you’re walking through something similar, please know this: you are not alone, you are seen, and you are loved.

As always, message me on Instagram or leave a comment below letting me know what you thought about this post!

With All My Heart,
Gurp