My Story: Madison Spears

Trigger Warnings: Infertility, False Positive Pregnancy Tests, Medical Stories, Descriptions of Fertility Procedures, Grief

Dear Cysters, Mysters, and Friends,

It is hard to know where to start telling my story. While writing this, I kept asking myself if I was oversharing or potentially making people uncomfortable. In the end, I decided to be honest. After all, my strong belief that we should be able to talk openly about health issues and infertility is one of the main reasons I started Stomp Out PCOS. My story begins many years before my diagnosis. My first memory involving a symptom of PCOS is from 5th grade. I had never been self-conscious and one day at 5th grade camp would change that forever. Because there were so many girls in my cabin, we had to shower two at a time. While we wore swimsuits, showering together wasn’t something most of us were looking forward to. 

I got assigned to shower with someone I had known since Kindergarten. In my opinion, that was the best case scenario for this awkward situation. However, as I stepped in the shower, the other girl started screeching that she didn’t want to shower with Sasquatch. Other classmates came running into the bathroom as she pointed at my legs and repeatedly called me Sasquatch. I looked down and for the first time, I noticed how hairy my legs were compared to the other girls. It took almost a decade for me to learn that hirsutism, excessive and coarse hair growth caused by high androgen levels, is an extremely common symptom of PCOS. 

This is me at 5th grade camp. I was 11 years old.

My Diagnosis

I started my first period when I was in 6th grade. However, it took me until my junior year of high school to finally tell my mom that I was going 3-8 months between periods. When I was having one, they lasted between 9-12 days. My mom took me to an OBGYN who suggested we do an ultrasound to look for ovarian cysts. Sure enough, I had the well-known “string of pearls” and was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. After my diagnosis, I was told that I needed to get on birth control to help manage the symptoms and regulate my cycle. I was 17, a doctor told me to take the pill, and so I did. By the time I was 18, I was informed that I needed an endocrinologist. This woman was my first hint that getting medical treatment for PCOS would be difficult. Every month, I would tell her that I was having a lot of pelvic pain and was struggling with excessive hair growth, along with other symptoms. Every month, she would have me do a 24 hour urine collection, tell me everything was normal, and send me home.

I also started seeing an OBGYN during this time. She told me that all of my issues were part of PCOS and that there wasn’t anything she could do. I would leave feeling emotionally violated by the lack of concern and effort from her. A few years later, when I was 20, I made an appointment with her specifically to talk about infertility. I was nowhere near trying for kids, but the possibility I would not be able to have them terrified me. After I told her I was constantly in pain and having irregular periods even on birth control, I asked her to tell me some things I should be doing so that my fertility would be less impacted in the future. Before I could finish my question, she cut me off to respond. She let me know that I would always be in pain because of PCOS and that it wasn’t curable. She then told me that she would not talk to me about fertility until I was married. She ended the appointment by reminding me that I was too young to even know if I wanted kids.

I left and never went back. I felt so discouraged by the lack of help, which led to me deciding in college that the best coping method was to pretend my diagnosis didn’t exist. A few years after college, my life was flipped upside down when I ended a long-term relationship and moved back home with my parents. I was determined to feel like myself again. In order to do that, I knew I needed to get off birth control.

New Symptoms

Coming off birth control meant all the PCOS symptoms that had been masked by the pill escalated at a rate I was not prepared for. It was now 2023 and I had been shaving my legs every few days since 2011. I thought every few days had been exhausting, but at the rate my hair started growing after stopping the pill, I had to shave something every single day. Not only my legs, but arm hair appeared out of nowhere. My facial hair had been a small issue for a while, but I was not prepared to have a 5 o’clock shadow every day. I was not prepared for jokes about how I grew a beard faster than men, or that my arms looked like a gorilla. It felt like my body was angry at me. My hair on my head started thinning while the rest of my body made me feel like, well, Sasquatch. 

In December 2023, I believe that any remaining hormones from the birth control finally filtered out of my body. I woke up one morning with a pelvic pain that radiated throughout the rest of my body. I went to work and could not walk around the classroom. I counted down the minutes until my students left the room so I could lay on the carpet and try to relieve some pain. A few days later, I asked my boyfriend, Devin, to come to school with me on the day before holiday break. It was class party day and I couldn’t even put my shoes on by myself. We had only been together a few months, but serving brunch to over 20 kids, handing out presents, and then moving all the desks so the kids could watch a movie made me feel like he could definitely be my person. At the end of the school day, I could barely stand and I immediately drove myself to the ER. They did some scans and told me there was fluid in my uterus and ovaries. They gave me some pain medication and instructed me to go back to the ER in 24 hours if the pain was not getting better. When I asked why I had fluid there, they told me they weren’t quite sure, which is not exactly the best thing to hear before being discharged.

Devin carrying all the presents and leftover food to my car because I was struggling to stand up at this point.

The next day, Devin and I went to his family Christmas. I made it less than 10 minutes before the room started spinning from the pain. Devin said his goodbyes and drove me to the ER. We went through the story of how much pain I was in, what the ER had told me the previous day, and that the meds didn’t seem to be helping. They did an ultrasound and told me that nothing was wrong besides my PCOS. When I asked if there was fluid in my uterus or ovaries, they said no. After sitting there for hours, I asked for another round of pain medication. The nurse looked at my file and told me I didn’t really need them. When I reminded her of how long the pain had been at a higher level, she said she would check with the doctor. A few minutes later, a doctor came in and told me I was being discharged because there wasn’t anything wrong. Devin started asking questions about how it was possible for one scan to see fluid and not another, even when the pain had continued to escalate. The doctor told him I might have had an ovarian cyst burst, but there was just no way to tell why I was in pain. His best suggestion was a heating pad and over the counter pain medication.

When he left the room, I completely broke down. Years of being told it was “just” PCOS had led to this moment. I was exhausted. I felt alone and isolated. I also felt sorry for Devin. He could not understand why the doctor wasn’t listening to me. My mom, who had met us at the ER, informed him that this was a common pattern for women. It still happens to me today. There are some appointments that I specifically ask Devin to go because I want a man there. Sometimes that feels like the only way to get someone to listen to me.

Our Fertility Journey

In April 2024, Devin and I sat in the dark one night staring at the ceiling before bed. “You know,” I said, “With my pain levels and my PCOS, it could be hard to get pregnant. The fact that you are over 30 might not help either.” After discussing the pros and cons of a pregnancy before we had even been dating for a year, we agreed to start trying for kids. We didn’t live together yet, but I think I knew deep down that getting pregnant wasn’t going to be an easy thing to do.

Turns out, I was right. In June, I told Devin that I wanted to look into some fertility help in case it took months to get an appointment. Devin told me he didn’t want to get fertility help until the fall because he wanted one more summer without kids. It stings a little to know that we are now going into our third summer since that conversation. Even still, I knew it was too soon for any clinic to see us and tried to track my cycle at home. In November, we had our first appointment with a clinic and started our process of getting fertility assistance.

It took until January 2025 to get all our testing done, and when the results came back, it was a mix of feelings. All of Devin’s tests were fantastic. They even acknowledged how impressed they were with his test results since he was turning 35 in a few months. My results, on the other hand, were less than desirable. My hormone levels were all over the place and showed almost no consistency. They scheduled an HSG, which is a procedure done to check your fallopian tubes. Saline solution and a small camera are sent through the tubes to check for blockages. For anyone who has not had this procedure done, the doctor will tell you it feels like a cramp. I am here to tell you it is absolutely not a cramp (at least it wasn’t for me!) and was one of the few times I have almost passed out and thrown up from pain. However, I am glad I went through it because they found that my tubes were full of polyps, which greatly decreased our pregnancy chances. I was scheduled for a Hysteroscopy, a surgical procedure to clear the tubes. We were told it would make getting pregnant so much easier.

My surgery was in March. It had been an insanely difficult year for us. Throughout the first few months of fertility appointments, my job had not been very kind about my attendance, even with FMLA paperwork. I decided to leave that job in order to find a job that was more “future family friendly”. Not only was I unemployed, but my therapist of 8 years had died 2 months prior to my surgery. My last appointment with him was the first time I brought up infertility in therapy, and it still breaks my heart that we never got to talk more about it. A month before my surgery, my grandfather died, and over a year later, I am still trying to cope with the fact that he never got to be a great grandpa. Throughout all of this, each month meant privately grieving a negative pregnancy test.

Finally, in September, we started the preparation for our first IUI, or an Intrauterine Insemination. After a few weeks of blood tests and ultrasounds to see when I might ovulate, Devin administered a trigger shot to make sure ovulation happened at the right time. 24 hours later, we went to the clinic to do the IUI. In this procedure, a catheter is placed through the cervix to inject the sperm directly into the uterus. Our first IUI was quick and painless. We even got fries on the way home, which is a tradition in the fertility community to bring good luck. One week after the procedure, they checked my progesterone levels and let me know the numbers were too low to sustain any possible pregnancy. I started taking progesterone supplements and a week later, we went in for our pregnancy test. We found out soon after that it was negative, waited until October’s Cycle Day 1, and booked our next IUI procedure.

Our October procedure did not go well. During it, I experienced cramping that was so painful I felt like I couldn’t breathe. They told me they had to wait until the cramping stopped to inject the sperm. I knew if that sample turned colder than room temperature, it could seriously impact our results. I took a deep breath, said I was fine, and let them finish the procedure, even though there was still some lingering pain. I don’t know if that was the right thing to do, but the paralyzing fear that we might miss our chance completely took over in that moment. We got fries on the way home, and this cycle I used a wild yam cream to try and naturally raise progesterone without taking supplements. I was happy to find out a week later that my levels were right on track! I took this as a good sign.

A few days later, I took an at home test that came up positive. This time, I told Devin. I went to the store and bought a camping themed onesie. I told him right before we headed out to go camping with my extended family and we spent the weekend having little moments where we tried to process that we were actually going to be parents. A few days after camping, I walked in feeling so good about my pregnancy test at the clinic. However, a bit later, I got the call that it was negative. 

After that, we took a few months of a break from trying for kids due to the serious hit the IUI results took on my mental health. Last month (March 2026), we decided to start trying naturally again. Before doing that, I wanted to talk to an OBGYN for the first time in over 5 years. I did lots of research and picked one I felt confident would listen. Sure enough, she listened, and she told me I needed to lose 20-30 pounds before I even considered IVF. In order to do that, I needed to take Metformin to help me with insulin resistance.

Now, in April, we are processing some bloodwork that didn’t exactly have the answers we were looking for. Our first month of trying naturally again was unsuccessful. At the end of that month, we found out through bloodwork that my body was (and still is) fighting some kind of inflammation, and my FSH (Follicle Stimulating Hormone) was so low it wasn’t even listed as a number possible for a woman to have. While my OB is not worried about these results yet, I can’t stop thinking about them. I just got a new fertility tracker to help ease some of the anxiety of the unknown. I’m actually pretty excited to write about how the tracker works and if I have any success with it!

My new Mira Ultra4 Fertility Tracker. It is not a cheap option, but is one of the most recommended for PCOS. I will be posting about this soon!

Throughout the last two years, I have learned how important it is to have a large support system to lean on. I am hopeful that with Stomp Out PCOS, we can create a community where it is okay to talk about the hard things. Whether it’s PCOS, Endometriosis, Infertility, or other related issues, I feel that everyone should have a support system where they can share ideas, talk about what they are going through, and help get each other through the hard times.

I am really looking forward to the future of Stomp Out PCOS and what we can build together.

With love and support,

Madison Spears