Doctors told me getting pregnant would solve all my problems

I couldn’t believe how he could tell a young adult to just get pregnant – it rendered me speechless (Picture: Darcie Baker)

‘Just get pregnant.’

I was sitting alone in my gynecologist’s office when a male consultant told me this, moments after diagnosing me with endometriosis at only 25 years old.

Initially, I was scared – up until that point, I felt like no one was listening to me or supporting me, since I didn’t know what was happening to my body.

But hearing that turned my fear into anger.

I couldn’t believe how he could tell a young adult to just get pregnant – it rendered me speechless.

Endometriosis is a chronic condition where cells similar to those in the lining of my womb grow elsewhere in my body – and so I live with regular and excruciating pain. 

I wish I had been seen by a female gynaecologist, instead of the man who told me that pregnancy was the easiest way for me to live without pain – maybe I would have been heard, and with greater empathy.

This left me feeling helpless, drained and fed up. 

Pregnancy wasn’t an option –  I was nowhere near ready for a family, I was figuring my life out and financially not in place for it.

I found it incredibly inappropriate and disgusting. 

When I was 18, I was told by a gynae specialist in A&E after collapsing at home from the pain that I just had ‘bad period pain’.

Pregnancy wasn’t an option –  I was nowhere near ready for a family (Picture: Darcie Baker)

But the agony consumed me.

My periods would last for weeks, heavy and relentless, leaving me drained. Even when the bleeding stopped, the pain didn’t. It would come in waves – sharp, deep, and unbearable – leaving me doubled over.

My abdomen would swell, and I’d feel nauseous and exhausted, wondering how something so invisible could feel so destructive. I thought it was just severe period pain, but then as each year went on and each menstrual cycle got worse.

Every time I went to my GP or a specialist, I was dismissed and told that ‘it’s all in my head’, ‘just take paracetamol’ or to have a contraceptive coil inserted, as it will treat the symptoms. 

By the time I was 23, in 2022, I finally felt like I might be getting answers (Picture: Darcie Baker)

I was expected by the gynae consultant to carry on as if this was normal – but I knew it wasn’t. None of my friends experienced anything like it.

But, I pushed it aside nonetheless, learned to endure it, and carried on for years feeling like I was overreacting to something everyone else seemed to manage.

By the time I was 23, in 2022, I finally felt like I might be getting answers.

I was under the care of a gynaecology consultant who specialised in endometriosis – I had spoken to a few colleagues and friends who had told me they eventually had good experiences – to keep pushing and fighting.

It wasn’t until September 2025, after seven long years, after I had laparoscopic surgery that the surgeon finally diagnosed me with endometriosis. 

I would have been delighted, if I wasn’t told that getting pregnant would ‘solve a lot of my problems’.

I remember sitting there on the recliner bed after they examined me, trying to process what I was hearing. I had only just begun building my career in the ambulance service and my focus was on creating a stable future for myself, not starting a family before I was ready. 

I was not in a good place (Picture: Darcie Baker)

There were moments where I genuinely wondered if I should just follow their advice, try to get pregnant, and hope it would fix everything. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the right answer for me – I was not in a good place. 

When I tried to explain all this and admitted that I wasn’t even sure whether I was fertile, since it was something a doctor had insinuated years ago, my concerns were brushed aside, replaced with the same repeated message: have the coil fitted. 

The contraceptive coil is supposed to help with hormonal symptoms and endometriosis – since it reduces pelvic pain and heavy periods by thinning the uterus lining.

It worked for the first three months, but my flare ups started getting worse. I felt lost and wanted to give up.

Each appointment left me feeling smaller. I felt ignored, let down, and at times completely invisible.

But that experience also changed something in me.

Over time, I began to realise that I knew my body better than anyone else, and I knew that any of the paths I was being encouraged to take wasn’t right for me.

With the coil, I was putting on weight, wasn’t sleeping, severe acne and my mental health took a dip. 

So, I had it removed in January 2026, and it was a turning point. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was mine, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was taking back control. 

Although my journey with endometriosis is still ongoing, my perspective has shifted.

I’m back under the care of my GP and I cannot fault him. He listens to me and will even trial me on different pain medications.

I understand the value of trusting my own voice, now that I have some answers and understand my body (Picture: Darcie Baker)

Even though I’m now being listened to, I still deal with regular pain. I manage using strong pain relief, hot water bottles, hot baths and sleeping. 

It doesn’t work the majority of the time, but I am empowered to get through it and take control.

What once made me feel powerless has given me a sense of purpose. 

I understand the value of trusting my own voice, now that I have some answers and understand my body.

Because of this, I am in a better place mentally. 

And I am determined to use my voice to make sure others don’t feel as alone as I once did.

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