Although 5 to 10% of the women suffer from a mild to severe case of PCOS, I can only say from my own experience that I felt I was failing.

Although this will sound extremely primitive and old-fashioned and I do not mean it that way, but I failed in my only job as a woman, making children.

From the very first consultation my gynecologist said that there was a very high probability that I would eventually have to go trough IVF. But, since we live in Belgium, there is only reimbursement by the health insurance if two other hormone treatments were tried that could possibly lead to pregnancy. A very small chance, that was what they could guarantee me, but we had to try it first.


The first treatment was a simple hormone treatment by taking small pills. I never actually felt anything while taking it and that feeling turned out to be correct after the scans that followed. Absolutely nothing happened. No egg grew and soon it became clear that no egg would ever grow with this treatment. Because this was the first time we tried something, I felt pretty disappointed with the result. Even though the gynecologist had made it clear to me that there was only a minimal chance of success, I had always intended to remain optimistic from the beginning. If we wouldn’t be optimistic, I found all effort useless. The second treatment was no more pills but small injections in my belly fat. The first time we had to inject, both Sam and I were extremely stressed out. Because I (believe it or not) are not too brave with needles, I asked Sam to take the first shot, because I would not dare to do it myself. Was it because of the adrenaline or because it was the first time, no idea, but I didn’t really feel it. Since then, Sam has done the injections a few times, but after a while I started doing it myself. I’m not going to say that I did not feel anything about it, but it was not that bad either. When my belly was full of bruises and became a battlefield, I started to find it (perhaps rather mentally) difficult.

I am not going to lie, it was intensive. I experienced more back pain and my mood started to suffer from the hormones. Once again I was optimistic and hoped for a positive result. However in the next to last check up there hadn’t been starting to grow anything and there was as good as no chance of success. To be sure, we increased the dose one last time and I had to go on check up for the last time one week later. This time, suddenly one egg started to grow. Just out of nowhere. I was in heaven and had already put my hope on success. An extra check up was scheduled a week later and it turned out that eventually all my eggs started to grow due to overstimulation. At that point we had to break down the whole operation. I remember that at that moment I went back to the car and felt like someone hit me with large baseball stick. Shit, that’s how I felt.

As I said before, from the beginning we had decided only do things if we were both confident and optimistic about it. After the second treatment it had consumed me entirely and felt like I needed a break. Since we had our tattoo convention (which we organize ourselves) in less than two months time, I thought it wasn’t the time to start the definitive treatment, IVF, and at that moment we decided to put all treatments on hold for a while. From the beginning, Sam told me that he would never force me into any treatments I didn’t want to do and that he would be as happy with or without a kid. Having this in the back of my mind gave me so much peace.

At the end of May 2017, all the arrangements of the convention ended and we decided to start back with the last treatment, IVF

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