When ‘Normal’ Isn’t Normal: My Journey to Healing Gut, Hormone, and Immune Chaos

For as long as I can remember, eczema was just part of my life. It flared occasionally in childhood and adolescence, but by my late teens and twenties, I had it mostly under control. I thought I had outgrown it. I thought I understood my body. Then I became a mom.

Like so many women, I expected some postpartum changes — exhaustion, hormones shifting, a new rhythm to life. What I didn’t expect was waking up one day feeling like a stranger in my own skin… literally. Eczema had returned with a vengeance, covering my hands to elbows, knees to ankles, and creeping up the sides of my body like wildfire. I was covered in hives more times than I can count and reacting to something that no one could identify.

It wasn’t just my skin. My menstrual cycle was unbearable, physically and emotionally. I felt like I had one good week a month, if that. The rest of the time, I was managing pain, fatigue, mood swings, and inflammation that had no name.

Eventually, I was referred to a top OB in my area. After an exam and discussion, she suspected endometriosis likely formed post-C-section. But because we weren’t actively trying for another child, surgery was off the table. That left me with one option: the progestin-only pill. I was considered high-risk for traditional birth control due to a history of migraines and the potential for seizures, so we tried what felt like the “safest” bet.

Two doses and within hours, I broke out in hives and every joint in my body swelled so severely that I couldn’t walk. I rushed myself to the ER. After hours of tests and zero answers, I was discharged with a shrug and diagnosis of “joint pain”.

Then came the parade of specialists: allergists, dermatologists, endocrinologists, rheumatologists. My primary care doctor ran every panel imaginable. Everything came back “normal.” One dermatologist told me my symptoms were from washing my hands too much and I wish I were joking.

By this point, I had officially entered the stage of medical gaslighting meets desperation. I knew this wasn’t normal. I wasn’t just a tired mom. I wasn’t “just stressed.” Something was deeply wrong, and I was done waiting for a doctor to connect the dots for me.

So, I started doing it myself.

I tracked everything—what I ate, what I touched, when I reacted. I replayed every event leading up to the hospital trip. The only consistent factor? Milk. Not just dairy intolerance… a full-blown milk allergy. When I asked for testing, I was met with skepticism because adults don’t just become allergic to milk, but I insisted on the bloodwork. When it came back positive, I was overwhelmed with relief. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t dramatic. I was right.

I completely cut out milk for six months. Slowly but surely, my skin started to heal. The itching subsided. My energy started to return. I thought I was in the clear. But when you have a toddler in daycare, your immune system gets tested on the daily and mine was failing.

Between 2019 and early 2021, I had recurrent strep throat, testing positive multiple times. My throat was constantly raw, my lymph nodes swollen, and antibiotics were a regular part of my routine. I finally booked an ENT consultation, where I was told my tonsils were shot, but I needed a few more infections for insurance to approve the procedure. (Yes, really.)

Well… I got those infections without much effort. A new ENT finally said, “Enough is enough.” That day felt like a lifeline. I got my tonsils removed, and while recovery was one of the hardest physical experiences I’ve had (yes, even compared to childbirth), I was so grateful. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a shot at getting healthy again.

But even with the skin improvements and no more strep infections, something was still off. My cycles were still brutal. My energy tanked before ovulation. I lived with persistent pelvic pain. My labs consistently showed low progesterone and low estrogen, but time and time again, I was told, “That’s still within the normal range.”

It wasn’t normal for me. And I was done settling for that answer.

Why I’m Sharing This Now

If you’ve ever been told your labs look “fine” but you feel anything but fine— this post is for you.

If you’ve ever cycled through doctors, doubted your own intuition, or felt like your body betrayed you—this post is for you.

And if you’ve ever found yourself quietly Googling symptoms late at night while everyone else is asleep—this post is definitely for you.

This is just the beginning of my healing journey. In my next post, I’ll share how I finally found the right kind of support through a team that blends functional and western medicine. We ran the right tests (hello GI Map!) and finally started treating the root cause—not just the symptoms.

For the first time in years, I feel hopeful. And I want you to know that you can get there too.

➡️ Stay tuned for Part 2: How I Finally Found a Care Team That Took Me Seriously (and What Testing Revealed).
Have you experienced something similar? Drop a comment or send me a DM. You’re not alone.