Onyx Acupuncture & Integrative Health

One of the reasons I’m not emotionally attached to whether PCOS became PMOS is because most disease names are simply descriptions of symptom clusters.

They tell us WHAT is happening, not necessarily WHY it’s happening.

IBS describes bowel symptoms.
Migraine disorder describes recurring migraines.
Eczema describes inflammatory skin symptoms.
PMOS describes a metabolic and ovulatory pattern.

The patient usually already knows this. They’re living it every day.

Western medicine is incredibly valuable for diagnosis, acute care, surgery, and lifesaving interventions. But in chronic illness, patients are often left asking a bigger question:

Why is my body creating this pattern in the first place?

This is where Chinese medicine becomes so fascinating to me.

Chinese medicine does not primarily organize patients by disease labels. It looks at patterns of dysfunction in the body.

Two women can have the exact same PMOS diagnosis and need completely different treatment approaches based on their physiology, metabolism, nervous system, digestion, inflammation, stress response, and overall presentation.

Modern research is actually moving more in this direction too. We now understand conditions like PMOS, IBS, migraines, infertility, anxiety, and autoimmune disease are deeply connected to metabolism, inflammation, the nervous system, sleep, stress hormones, and the microbiome.

The body is not a collection of isolated organs.

I think the future of medicine looks less like arguing over acronyms and more like integrating the strengths of both models: modern diagnostics and research alongside individualized, systems based medicine.

Because patients deserve more than symptom labels alone.

I don’t think I’ve ever said this out loud, but I was really scared to start trying to conceive.

Which felt… confusing.

Because I’m the person women come to when they’re struggling to get pregnant. I’ve spent years supporting fertility, hormones, loss, irregular cycles, unexplained cases, you name it. I *know* the protocols, the labs, the patterns.

And still… when it was my turn, fear showed up.

Fear of the unknown.
Fear of “what if it’s not easy for me?”
Fear of all the stories I’ve held for other women.

But I made a decision early on:
I wasn’t going to let fear be the loudest voice in the room.

So instead of spiraling, I grounded into what I could control.

I supported my body the same way I support my patients.

I stayed consistent with acupuncture, not just for fertility, but to regulate my nervous system and keep blood flowing where it matters most.

I ran labs so I wasn’t guessing. Hormones, thyroid, nutrients, blood sugar, I wanted to *see* what was going on, not assume.

I took herbs based on my body, not trends.

I moved, but I didn’t push. I let exercise support me, not deplete me.

I tested deeper, gut health, cortisol rhythms, because I’ve seen how much those things matter.

I got serious about blood sugar, about protein, about actually eating enough.

I protected my sleep like it mattered… because it does.

I slowed down. I meditated. I worked on feeling safe in my own body.

I cleaned up what I could, fragrances, skincare, plastics, not from a place of perfection, but intention.

And we didn’t ignore the male side either. Testing, supplements, support, because this is never just on the woman.

I started a prenatal not as a checkbox, but as a way to truly build my reserves.

None of this was about being perfect.

It was about creating an environment in my body that felt steady, nourished, and supported.

The fear didn’t magically go away.

But it softened.

And it stopped running the show.

If you’re in this season and feeling the same way, overwhelmed, anxious, unsure where to start, you don’t need to do everything.

But you do need a plan that actually supports *you*.

If you want help building that, I’m here 🤍

Pregnancy is beautiful… but the body image shifts can be real.

I’m currently in the phase where I don’t quite look pregnant yet, my body just looks bigger and different.

For someone who has spent years working hard to maintain an athletic physique, that can mess with your head a little.

The irony is that some of the “best looking” phases of my body were actually when I was the most under-nourished.

Now my body is asking for something different.

More nourishment.
More softness.
More trust.

Growing a baby is changing my definition of what a strong body looks like.