After years of wondering why I had more body hair than the average female and why my periods were painful and irregular I was finally diagnosed with PCOS about 4, maybe 5 years ago. At the time I was with a guy who was psychologically abusive but didn't realize it until too late. Before I got with him I was quite slim, didn't have any body hang ups at all. After a few months I realized I'd piled on a ton of weight and that I'd gotten really really fat. My stomach was covered in stretch marks from it. It didn't dint my confidence thought I we went out to nightclubs fairly often as he was a uni student. He paid for drinks and we had, what I thought, was a good time.
One morning I woke up with, what I thought, was normal period pains, for me at least. They got worse as the day went on and I decided to jump in the bath to see if it eased them any. It didn't. I spent most of the day curled up in bed. At one point I coughed whilst on the loo and was surprised to hear a small splash. I figured I'd just peed and ignored it. Later than day my ex and I ended up in hospital as the pains were getting too bad.
Unbeknown to me I was pregnant and I'd lost the baby. I was suffering a miscarriage. I was shocked. I'd wanted a baby for so long, now this was happening and I had no idea. When we got home I was still in shock over the ordeal. I went to the loo again and ended up dropping to my knees, screaming. A friend who I lived with burst into the bathroom thinking I'd hurt myself and asked what happened at the hospital. I told him and he asked where my ex was. I told him he was in my room. I remember my friend storming into my room asking my ex why he wasn't in there comforting me after everything that had happened. My ex played it off that he hadn't heard me. Nowadays I realize that the walls were paper thin, there was no way he didn't hear me grieving.
We moved to a different city after that whilst he attended uni. I visited a doctor and had the PCOS diagnosed. Told my ex and he said I must have miscarried because of that. A month or so after moving away from my home town, the abuse began. It started as small digs made at my expense. For a year I took it as him having a laugh. When I insulted him back, he didn't like it and kicked me out repeatedly, in a city where I didn't know anyone, in a rough area. I'd have to sleep rough tucked away in a corner somewhere. I was too naive back then to leave him.
After his first year of uni we moved in with one of his class mates. They guy seemed ok at first but changed as soon as he found out that I'm part Hebrew, or however you'd class that. He was half Iranian and so had a huge problem with me. He'd insult me at every opportunity, make constant Jew jokes, when never bother me so long as it's in jest, but he was malicious with it. Not once did my ex defend me. I'd mention it to him and he'd tell me to stop being pathetic. They'd both call me names and in the end I couldn't leave the house for fear that people were going to say something about how I looked. For 2 years I was pretty much a prisoner in our house. I'd started a college course in business and gave that up under the belief that it wasn't an important course because his course was going to pay all the bills. He wanted me to stay at home and be a house wife, which to him ment cook, clean and do as I'm told. All the while, the loss of our baby played on my mind yet I never mentioned it. He hadn't said anything about it either, wasn't bothered at all.
One night we were home along and what he said shocked me. He told me he knew I'd been pregnant. He saw the signs, the mood swings, cravings, bloating, morning sickness. He also knew that filling me full of booze would kill the baby. At this point I'm beyond shocked. I don't know what to do. I'm sat in my computer room crying my eyes out. No one was there to hear him say this so it was my word against his. He finished uni and we moved back to our home town where my family saw his abuse for the first time. They hated him with a passion for what he was doing. I told my sister what he'd said and she told me I had to leave him. If thats what he was capable of, I had to get away. All of a sudden he didn't want a housewife. He wanted me to work because he couldn't find a job that needed his qualifications. Everyday I'd struggle into the city center with the growing paranoia, handing out C.Vs to companies and not hearing anything. The abuse stepped up. I was useless because I couldn't get a job and it was no wonder because of the way I looked. He kicked me out one night under the belief that I hadn't been job searching. Luckily a friend decided it would be fun to camp out in his car over night at some woods. Although it was fun, it was still hellish. It was cold and I was beginning to realize my ex couldn't treat me like this. Not after he'd admitted to killing our baby, a baby I'd wanted for so long, the baby who's death had caused a slow growing insanity inside me. The next morning I was due to visit my mum. My friend dropped me off at home and I went in to get showered and changed. He was sat on the sofa, smirking. Asked where I'd been. I told him nowhere and that I'd only come home to get ready to go to my mums. He told me I wasn't allowed. My mum pulled up and I got out whilst he was in the shower getting ready for work. Whilst at my mums I sent my ex a message telling him I didn't want to be with him anymore. When I got home, he feigned sadness and asked if I'd changed my mind. I told him I hadn't and that I'd be looking for somewhere else to live. I got on my computer that night in my own little room in the house, blocked the door so he couldn't come in and try to make me feel bad and changed my status on facebook. That's when my OH sent me a message. He asked if I was ok. Asked me if I needed any help with moving house etc. We'd been talking as friends for months and he asked if I wanted to meet up just as friends. We both agreed to meet in a public place and joked that it was in case either of us were psychos. The next morning we met. Found out we had a lot in common and things went from there. We were still friends when I took him to my ex's whilst I grabbed a bag to stop out over night at a friends and my ex went ballistic. Accused me of cheating on him. According to my ex, I was still HIS until I moved out. That's when I changed. I got strong. I told him in no uncertain terms that from the day I told him it was over I was not his property and he had no right to tell me what I could and couldn't do anymore. The following day we went back to the house and whilst I showered my ex showed my OH his "power" over me. Walked straight into the bathroom whilst I was showering and asked when I was moving out. I told him to get lost as I was naked and he said "no, it's my house, I'll do as I please". My OH decided that day to get me out of that house permenantly. We got together properly for the first time that night and have been a couple ever since.
I fell pregnant during our first week together and we couldn't have been happier, no doubts in our mind that we would be together for a long time. When I was 3 weeks pregnant we had to go and pick some stuff up from my ex's. I'd text him the night before and told him I didn't want any arguements as I was pregnant and the stress would just cause more problems, possibly resulting in loss due to the PCOS. As soon as we got there my ex, infront of my mum, step dad and OH starts an argument over what stuff is mine, stuff people had bought me as a gift were now all of a sudden his. The knife set my sister had bought me that xmas was now something she'd bought for him for his birthday. He hated it when I called her and she told him they were mine, not his. His rage built up and he tried to push me down the concrete steps outside his house, tried to cause me to fall on my stomach knowing I was pregnant. My ex knew what he'd done previously and lost it. My ex pushed him for telling him to back off but it backfired. The police ended up being involved and charged my OH for aggravated assult, letting my ex get away with everything. Luckily the stress caused no damage and I had my first baby last year. Now I'm pregnant again with our 2nd child and couldn't be happier with my life.
I still think about the baby I lost. It still eats away at me inside. It kills me that he got away with doing what he did. Knowing that he didn't care what happened.
I know this story seemed more about abuse an anything else but I had to go the long way to explain about everything. My story is basically that even when you think the world around you is falling down and that you'll never pull through, good things do happen. If you have PCOS you can have kids, it's not always loss. For years I blamed it for losing my baby.
I'm sorry this post is so long and seems totally off topic but I suppose it's also my way of dealing with it.
One morning I woke up with, what I thought, was normal period pains, for me at least. They got worse as the day went on and I decided to jump in the bath to see if it eased them any. It didn't. I spent most of the day curled up in bed. At one point I coughed whilst on the loo and was surprised to hear a small splash. I figured I'd just peed and ignored it. Later than day my ex and I ended up in hospital as the pains were getting too bad.
Unbeknown to me I was pregnant and I'd lost the baby. I was suffering a miscarriage. I was shocked. I'd wanted a baby for so long, now this was happening and I had no idea. When we got home I was still in shock over the ordeal. I went to the loo again and ended up dropping to my knees, screaming. A friend who I lived with burst into the bathroom thinking I'd hurt myself and asked what happened at the hospital. I told him and he asked where my ex was. I told him he was in my room. I remember my friend storming into my room asking my ex why he wasn't in there comforting me after everything that had happened. My ex played it off that he hadn't heard me. Nowadays I realize that the walls were paper thin, there was no way he didn't hear me grieving.
We moved to a different city after that whilst he attended uni. I visited a doctor and had the PCOS diagnosed. Told my ex and he said I must have miscarried because of that. A month or so after moving away from my home town, the abuse began. It started as small digs made at my expense. For a year I took it as him having a laugh. When I insulted him back, he didn't like it and kicked me out repeatedly, in a city where I didn't know anyone, in a rough area. I'd have to sleep rough tucked away in a corner somewhere. I was too naive back then to leave him.
After his first year of uni we moved in with one of his class mates. They guy seemed ok at first but changed as soon as he found out that I'm part Hebrew, or however you'd class that. He was half Iranian and so had a huge problem with me. He'd insult me at every opportunity, make constant Jew jokes, when never bother me so long as it's in jest, but he was malicious with it. Not once did my ex defend me. I'd mention it to him and he'd tell me to stop being pathetic. They'd both call me names and in the end I couldn't leave the house for fear that people were going to say something about how I looked. For 2 years I was pretty much a prisoner in our house. I'd started a college course in business and gave that up under the belief that it wasn't an important course because his course was going to pay all the bills. He wanted me to stay at home and be a house wife, which to him ment cook, clean and do as I'm told. All the while, the loss of our baby played on my mind yet I never mentioned it. He hadn't said anything about it either, wasn't bothered at all.
One night we were home along and what he said shocked me. He told me he knew I'd been pregnant. He saw the signs, the mood swings, cravings, bloating, morning sickness. He also knew that filling me full of booze would kill the baby. At this point I'm beyond shocked. I don't know what to do. I'm sat in my computer room crying my eyes out. No one was there to hear him say this so it was my word against his. He finished uni and we moved back to our home town where my family saw his abuse for the first time. They hated him with a passion for what he was doing. I told my sister what he'd said and she told me I had to leave him. If thats what he was capable of, I had to get away. All of a sudden he didn't want a housewife. He wanted me to work because he couldn't find a job that needed his qualifications. Everyday I'd struggle into the city center with the growing paranoia, handing out C.Vs to companies and not hearing anything. The abuse stepped up. I was useless because I couldn't get a job and it was no wonder because of the way I looked. He kicked me out one night under the belief that I hadn't been job searching. Luckily a friend decided it would be fun to camp out in his car over night at some woods. Although it was fun, it was still hellish. It was cold and I was beginning to realize my ex couldn't treat me like this. Not after he'd admitted to killing our baby, a baby I'd wanted for so long, the baby who's death had caused a slow growing insanity inside me. The next morning I was due to visit my mum. My friend dropped me off at home and I went in to get showered and changed. He was sat on the sofa, smirking. Asked where I'd been. I told him nowhere and that I'd only come home to get ready to go to my mums. He told me I wasn't allowed. My mum pulled up and I got out whilst he was in the shower getting ready for work. Whilst at my mums I sent my ex a message telling him I didn't want to be with him anymore. When I got home, he feigned sadness and asked if I'd changed my mind. I told him I hadn't and that I'd be looking for somewhere else to live. I got on my computer that night in my own little room in the house, blocked the door so he couldn't come in and try to make me feel bad and changed my status on facebook. That's when my OH sent me a message. He asked if I was ok. Asked me if I needed any help with moving house etc. We'd been talking as friends for months and he asked if I wanted to meet up just as friends. We both agreed to meet in a public place and joked that it was in case either of us were psychos. The next morning we met. Found out we had a lot in common and things went from there. We were still friends when I took him to my ex's whilst I grabbed a bag to stop out over night at a friends and my ex went ballistic. Accused me of cheating on him. According to my ex, I was still HIS until I moved out. That's when I changed. I got strong. I told him in no uncertain terms that from the day I told him it was over I was not his property and he had no right to tell me what I could and couldn't do anymore. The following day we went back to the house and whilst I showered my ex showed my OH his "power" over me. Walked straight into the bathroom whilst I was showering and asked when I was moving out. I told him to get lost as I was naked and he said "no, it's my house, I'll do as I please". My OH decided that day to get me out of that house permenantly. We got together properly for the first time that night and have been a couple ever since.
I fell pregnant during our first week together and we couldn't have been happier, no doubts in our mind that we would be together for a long time. When I was 3 weeks pregnant we had to go and pick some stuff up from my ex's. I'd text him the night before and told him I didn't want any arguements as I was pregnant and the stress would just cause more problems, possibly resulting in loss due to the PCOS. As soon as we got there my ex, infront of my mum, step dad and OH starts an argument over what stuff is mine, stuff people had bought me as a gift were now all of a sudden his. The knife set my sister had bought me that xmas was now something she'd bought for him for his birthday. He hated it when I called her and she told him they were mine, not his. His rage built up and he tried to push me down the concrete steps outside his house, tried to cause me to fall on my stomach knowing I was pregnant. My ex knew what he'd done previously and lost it. My ex pushed him for telling him to back off but it backfired. The police ended up being involved and charged my OH for aggravated assult, letting my ex get away with everything. Luckily the stress caused no damage and I had my first baby last year. Now I'm pregnant again with our 2nd child and couldn't be happier with my life.
I still think about the baby I lost. It still eats away at me inside. It kills me that he got away with doing what he did. Knowing that he didn't care what happened.
I know this story seemed more about abuse an anything else but I had to go the long way to explain about everything. My story is basically that even when you think the world around you is falling down and that you'll never pull through, good things do happen. If you have PCOS you can have kids, it's not always loss. For years I blamed it for losing my baby.
I'm sorry this post is so long and seems totally off topic but I suppose it's also my way of dealing with it.
and good luck with your pregnancy
