The symptoms of pcos are endless,
It causes many issues for the ovaries,
There's no cure for this but there need to be one,
It makes it harder for her to get pregnant,
It makes it harder for her Emotionally,
It makes it harder for her Mentally.

God has the last say in all of this,
Don't worry for those who suffer from this,
I know it's painful and draining,
Don't give up on having children,
It may be difficult but it's not impossible,
Never knew much about this,
But wanted to speak about it.

Many women are battling with this,
It can be easy but in due it will get easier,
Hang in there and keep the faith,
God has the last say not the doctors,
Anything is possible through the grace of God,
Miracles happen everyday.

The anxiety and depression can get the best of you,
Hold on to your faith,
Stay prayed up,
The symptoms will have you Emotional,
But there's nothing you can,
This is a test so just keep fighting,
God will see this through.

Four letters won’t define.
Four letters won’t defeat.
Even though they’re forever mine,
Even though they’re not discrete.

Four letters won’t defeat;
No longer are they chains.
Even though they’re not discrete,
I won’t let myself live this way.

No longer are they chains;
They cannot pull me down.
I won’t let myself live this way;
Refusing to sink, refusing to drown.

They cannot pull me down;
These letters, sips of ruined wine.
Refusing to sink, refusing to drown:
Four letters won’t define.

Polycystic ***** Syndrome.

As it turns out,
Once your hormones are under control,
You aren't always overflowing with emotion.

Even if you're still infertile.

My face consumed with  
                acne due to PCOS.
My chubby belly, even though
                I'm trying my best to lose.
My dry hands, that no matter
                how much lotion I put on
                                               won't stay soft.
My frizzy hair that I try
                   my best to tame.
My calves, that are too big to
                     fit into "normal" calf sized
                                                           ­  boots.
My heart that gets hurt time and time
                      again but puts itself back together
                                                        ­                 each time.
My mind that cares too much for the
                       ones who wouldn't do the same for me.
                              
                              ­ I'm trying to love  myself.

I walk the halls and you all laugh,
You call me fat and laugh behind my back.
But deep inside, I know the reason,
Why I am not like the others.

To the naked eye I am obese,
A fat girl who you can not bare to see.
But deep inside my blood there holds a demon,
One who controls the way you see me.

Doctors call it PCOS ,
A illness I will carry til my death.
So when you look at me,
Don't see the fat ,
Or the girl who you can not bare to see.

See the girl who fought to live,
Who spent that year,
Underneath the hospital sheets,
Just so you could bare to look at me.

I didn’t know I was pregnant. But the baby didn’t stay. Because of my PCOS, my body couldn’t “home” the baby. The doctor says, “Chances of you having children is less than likely than most women.”
2 years later, out of pure luck and not even trying, I conceived. Scared to death every time there was even a small delay of movement. Thoughts, “Oh no, the baby isn’t moving.” “Oh no, I don’t want to lose this baby too.” Nine months go by, I give birth to a beautiful healthy little baby boy.
That baby boy is 6 years old now and his daddy and I want another. It’s been nearly two years of trying. 6 months with medication. Pills after pills, increasing their dosage each month. Adding in another pill which makes me super sick. I ask myself, “Is another baby really worth all of this sickness? All of this exhaustion?” I want to say yes, but I’m struggling. I’m struggling so hard. Because that’s just it. I am so sick, I am so exhausted, but I am so wanting this. I WANT THIS BAD. I just can’t take the heart break month after month.
Seeing pregnancy announcements—one after another makes me envy these women. Some of them even make me angry. I think to myself, “You shouldn’t even be having kids! Why are you able to get pregnant and I’m not?!” HOW IS THIS FREAKING FAIR?!