Anything would be worth it if it would help us have a baby

As told to Shterna Lazaroff 

February 2018

I looked in the mirror and grumbled. More acne? No, please no.

I was 29 already — and hadn’t even dealt with breakouts during my teenage years. Why now?

My mother popped her head in to check on me. “Ready for your date, Sari?” she asked.

Almost. First, I needed more coverup.

The next morning, I slept in late. The date had been a dud — again. And I was tired. I texted my personal trainer to cancel. It wasn’t the first time I’d done that, either. Lately, I was in a constant state of no energy.

“I’m fine,” I told my parents when they pointed out my recent exhaustion. I was still in the middle of recovering from a bad breakup. The bad skin, thinning hair, and complete lack of energy made sense to me. I’m a psychologist, after all. I know what the physical stress symptoms are.

But at a just-in-case appointment with my dermatologist, she disagreed. “I want to do bloodwork,” she told me. Yes, emotions can release themselves physically, but she argued that sometimes we gave our emotions too much credit. “I wouldn’t want to say ‘stress’ and then later find out there was something medical going on.”

Turns out, my dermatologist was right. When the lab called, they said my thyroid numbers were completely off. Apparently, I had Hashimoto’s, an autoimmune disorder in which your body attacks your thyroid. My thyroid wasn’t producing hormones correctly, but baruch Hashem it could be treated with medication.

I went on medications and within six weeks, my skin was clear. I could start working out again. My hair grew back.

Everything was back to normal.

September 2019

You don’t become an older single overnight. First, you’re 19 and going on your first date. Then you date a few more people, have a few more disappointing endings, people start suggesting that you consider fertility preservation treatments, and you realize that you’re 30.

I was thinking about making an appointment with a fertility specialist, but then another shidduch was suggested.

Great, I thought. Now I can push it off a bit. Let’s see how this goes first. 

I figured I’d call the doctor after this dating saga ended, as I was pretty sure it would. I hadn’t given up on marriage, but I’d become okay with life as it was. I had a wonderful family, amazing friends, meaningful work. If I could find someone to share that with, great. But I wasn’t going to live life waiting for it to get better.

Either way, at least the date would give me an excuse to push off the appointment.