This is a guest post from Ellie. She’ll be contributing several guest posts over the next few months!
The Bible says trials are more precious than gold (1 Peter 1:7). I don’t think there’s a person alive who could say that infertility does not qualify as a painful trial, and back when I first began this journey, I think I might have lost it if someone had tried to tell me my infertility was a gift. At the very least, I would have closed my ears heatedly to such nonsense.
I don’t know what has led to the infertility in your life. There are so many possible known and unknown causes, you may be unsure yourself. In my case, I knew exactly what had caused it, and it was directly correlated to years of abusing my body. It took me a long time to get to this point, but I have finally come to a place where I can honestly say that my infertility has been a blessing. I know that sounds ridiculous, and might even make you mad. It would have made me mad, too. But hear me out.
Before I got married and began trying to conceive, I had no idea I was unhealthy. In my mind, I was incredibly healthy. I ran a minimum of twelve miles every morning, walked over two miles to-and-from my college campus, then went to the gym to lift every night after class. I never took an “off” day and never ate over 1,300 calories (which I now realize was utterly ridiculous given my activity level). I let my stomach rumble for hours before I would touch food, and nothing with fat in it. I looked up every menu to every restaurant I ever ate at beforehand so that I could pick the lowest calorie salad on the menu. I didn’t touch bread, french fries or ice cream. Ever. As a result I was really thin, and I thought it was a sign of perfect health. I had no idea it was a serious problem. It wasn’t until I got off birth control so my husband and I could begin trying to have a baby when he got back from deployment that reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Until that point I was having my “period” (which is actually just a withdrawal bleed on the pill) every month like clockwork, because the artificial hormones were regulating things. After I ditched the pill, my period simply never returned. After four months no-period, I went to see a doctor, who told me I probably just had post-pill amenorrhea and that my cycle should get back to normal soon.
My husband was gone during all of this. I was stressed over that, stressed over my final semester of college, and, of course, the fact that my monthly cycle had gone MIA. So I did what I always do when I get stressed out: up the training. I continued to lose more weight, until I was whittled down to a smaller size than I had been in middle school. 6 months no-cycle passed, and I was referred to a reproductive endocrinologist.
The first thing he did was blood work, and the results were astounding. I had an almost nonexistent estrogen level that matched that of a postmenopausal woman, not a healthy 22-year old. He weighed me (found a super low BMI), then sat down to ask about my activity level and eating habits. He quickly diagnosed me with hypothalamic amenorrhea, a condition where the hypothalamus shuts down reproductive functioning during times of intense stress. I found out that when something is wrong in your body, your reproductive system is the first thing to go because it’s simply not needed to keep you alive. Your body says, “Hey! There’s too much going on, and we aren’t getting enough fuel to sustain a pregnancy.” Apparently, being underweight/constant exercise/deployed husband/finishing school was just too much.
Talk about a major wake-up call. I realized I was wasting away and proceeded into active recovery- the hardest thing I’ve ever done. No working out, eating lots of carbs and fat, and gaining weight in the hopes my body would turn my cycle back on. It was mentally grueling, since these had been my biggest fears for so long. I became aware during this time how deep my body image issues ran. I cried, a lot. I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror. A pair of jeans that barely clung to my hips before that I could no longer button would send me over the edge.
I won’t bombard you with the details because this isn’t a blog about eating disorders; this is a blog about infertility. But there is a connection here: my disordered eating led to my infertility, which was the push I needed to get healthy. I would have given up recovery in a heartbeat if it hadn’t been for one thing…my desire for a child. If the possibility of me ever becoming a mother hadn’t been compromised, I don’t think I would have ever stopped. My husband and family members had been telling me for years to “eat a steak.” Did I listen? Nope. Nothing but my inability to have a child was enough to convince me to get my act together, and I believe God was directing me to change my ways and say goodbye to what had become a dangerous idol in my life.
I gained 30 pounds. I didn’t run or exercise for 7 months. My husband came home. Just a few weeks ago, I got my first period in over a year. This is a wonderful first step, but I don’t know whether my body will start regulating ovulation from this point on, or if I will be able to get pregnant. I get angry about my circumstances often and still have bad days (you know, the type where you fight tears every time you see a pregnant woman). But you know what? I remind myself that Almighty God didn’t do this to punish me. He allowed it to happen to help me, to save me, and to teach me lessons I wouldn’t have learned otherwise. He is good! I am thankful for my infertility because I believe it literally saved my life. God taught, and continues to teach me, a lot through this experience. What might he be trying to teach you?
Ellie Barbee is a writer, children’s book illustrator, runner and military wife. She has a Bachelors degree in Early Childhood Education and dreams of one day becoming a mom! After a 3-year-long struggle with an eating disorder and exercise addiction which led to a new, additional battle with infertility, she has found a passion in supporting women working through similar situations, and is particularly knowledgeable about hypothalamic amenorrhea and the female athlete triad. Currently, she contributes to other blogs and has her own blog featuring a gallery of her artwork.
If you’re looking for more encouragement during infertility, be sure to check out my book, 31 Days of Prayer During Infertility.
Photo courtesy of Pixabay. Illustration by Ellie Barbee. .
Connect with me on {Facebook} | {Pinterest} | {Twitter}| {Instagram}