Trapped in A Child’s Body
Unable to go through puberty, Rebecca thought she’d never become a real woman…
Hiding myself in the corner of the girls’ changing rooms, I glanced around at my peers. Wearing bras supporting blossoming breasts, they chatted away about periods and which boys they fancied. But, when I gazed down at my own chest, it was as flat as a pancake.
I was 14, hadn’t started my periods or grown any pubic hair, and barely knew the meaning of sexual attraction.
My body was tiny, both in height and weight. I looked and felt like a child.
What’s wrong with me? I’d think every day.
Crying my eyes out to my parents, teachers, counsellors and doctors, I was always told the same thing.
‘Don’t worry. You’re just a late bloomer.’
But I knew something was wrong with me…
Shock diagnosis
Soon after my 15th birthday, I started to get stomach pains.
Suspecting an ulcer, doctors ordered an ultrasound. But, although an ulcer was found, we were in for a shock…
‘You were born without a uterus,’ the doctor revealed.
Utterly heartbroken, it meant I wouldn’t be able to have kids.
But, a few months later, it turned out they were wrong.
Another scan revealed I did have a uterus – only, it was the size of a 6-year-old’s.
Prescribed with low doses of oestrogen, I prayed I’d feel more womanly.
Maybe, in time, I’d catch up with my friends.
But, although I grew from 5ft 2in to 5ft 7in, nothing else happened.
Months went by, and I was still childlike, while my friends bloomed into adults.
As they chatted away about period pain, heartbreak and bra shopping, all I could do was imagine all of that.
When I was 16, I finally got a full diagnosis.
An endocrinologist – hormone doctor – ran some tests, and what she discovered was incredible. I had hardly any female hormones.
Then she asked about my sense of smell.
‘I’ve never been able to smell anything,’ I told her.
‘I know exactly what’s going on,’ she announced, diagnosing me with Kallmann syndrome.
A rare condition, there’s just a one in 125,000 chance of females having KS.
The brain doesn’t produce the amount of hormones needed to start puberty. And Kallmann patients have no sense of smell.
Told to continue the oestrogen treatment, there was little else doctors could do for me. But I desperately hoped my body would develop one day.
Surely I wouldn’t remain a child forever?
Already feeling isolated, once I knew I had a rare condition, I felt even lonelier.
Tests showed I had hardly any female hormones
Kindred spirit
Then, researching online one day, I came across a support group on Facebook. There were people all over the world with KS – and it turned out more boys were affected than girls. Influenced by their various experiences, I was inspired to share my own story. So I launched a video blog – and it was a hit! Then… ‘I have Kallmann, too,’ a message on Facebook popped up one day.
It was from a boy called Daniel, who lived in New South Wales, Australia. At 19, he was a little older than me. But, slowly, we
opened up about our lives and our experiences of having the condition.
Daniel had been taking hormones, too. We were both so happy we’d found someone to talk to, and to ask questions we couldn’t ask anyone else.
Soon, Facebook chats turned into Skype calls – first weekly, then daily, then hourly...
Falling in love
‘You’re the first person who’s ever properly understood me,’ I told Daniel.
And it wasn’t just the condition we had in common. Soon, we became inseparable, despite the distance.
Then, at age 18, I noticed blood in my knickers. My first period, finally! At the same time, my boobs started to develop, and I got pubic hair.
Prescribing me progesterone tablets, doctors told me these would keep my periods regular.
I still spoke to
Daniel every day, sharing my developments, and he shared his.
We soon realised we were more than friends. For the first time in my life, I felt an unusual sensation rippling through me…
‘I really like you,’ we told each other.
Then, in December 2014, Daniel travelled the 10,000 miles to America to visit me.
Within a few days of being together, our powerful online connection turned into a physical relationship.
It was the first time for both of us. Now we felt like normal adults, and the fact that we had KS was irrelevant.
We were in love. Sharing our interests, and introducing Daniel to my friends and family, the next month was a whirlwind. And, just days before he was due to leave, we went out for dinner.
Dropping to one knee, Daniel clasped a tiny box in his hand.
‘Will you marry me?’ he asked.
I knew the answer before he’d even asked. Everything just felt so right. Suddenly, everyone in the restaurant started cheering and clapping!
Over the next year, we visited each other as much as possible.
I met Daniel’s family, and we slowly planned the wedding of our dreams.
And on 9 January last year, I walked down the aisle of my childhood church.
Almost in tears of happiness, Daniel was ecstatic.
‘I’m so glad I met you,’ I told him as we exchanged vows and became man and wife.
Enjoying our perfect day with friends and family, our years of loneliness were far behind us.
Flying to Australia to set up our life together there, we’d never been happier.
We had a house in the Outback, a pet chicken and a cat, and I felt so at home.
Recently, I’ve had to return to America while we sort out my residency. But we know we’ll be together again soon.
Our dream is to have children one day.
For people with KS, that’s not easy to achieve, but we’re determined to have a family.
We’ll have to have fertility treatment to have a chance of conceiving. And, if having a baby doesn’t happen naturally, we’ve agreed we’ll look into fostering or adoption. Nothing’s impossible. Daniel and I both once believed we’d be trapped in children’s bodies forever.
But look at us now!
I felt an unusual sensation rippling through me…