Autumn Weimann, ND - One Patient's 16-Year Journey for Answers

Thank you so much. Okay, bear with me. I had to write down my entire story. I wanted to do it by memory, but I always forget something. Today is super important. I did not want to forget anything. So bear with me. Hi, everyone. Thank you so much for being here. Truly, it's so special to be standing in New York today surrounded by patients, families, loved ones, doctors and researchers who actually care. That alone means more than you know. I wasn't going to get emotional. I need tissues. There's my husband. He makes me laugh. Okay. My name is Dr. Autumn Wyman. I am a naturopathic doctor, holistic health practitioner and natural health practitioner.

A business owner, and most importantly, an endometriosis warrior like most of you. And before we get too serious, I just want to say this. If you are here as a loved one, thank you for showing up. If you are here as a doctor or researcher, thank you for listening. If you are here as a patient, I see you. I really see you. My story with endometriosis starts a little differently depending on who you ask. My mom remembers it beginning in middle school. Hi, mom. She's watching for California right now virtually, wherever the camera is. I remember starting my freshman year of high school at 14 years old. Either way, it showed up early and it showed up loud. I was a very active kid. I played competitive softball at the age of four. I was then recruited at the age of 10.

My life revolved around sports movement and pushing my body. So when something started going wrong, it felt extremely confusing and really embarrassing. One day during math class, I started my cycle. I suddenly felt really off. I looked at the kid next to me and he said I looked like Shrek. I was turning green. Seconds later, I vomited all over the classroom, sitting in front row so everyone could see. The entire class had to step out as I then fainted. I remembered being picked up by security and carried up on a golf cart. It was in California. And driven to the nurse's office like I was in some school parade. At the time, no one knew what caused it. We followed up with my pediatrician and moved on. Except it kept happening and happening consistently.

Later the same year on a rainy day, and yes, it does rain in California. Another student found me lying on the hallway floor. Outside on the ground with the rain, I vomited from the pain and I remembered holding my lower stomach really, really tight. I could not walk. My teacher then called 911. An ambulance came up to my high school and picked me up. And to make that experience even more surreal, the same teacher told my honors biology class that I had an eating disorder, which was not true. But that was a level of confusion surrounding my body at the time. My mom was frustrated. She kept saying, "You're telling me my healthy active daughter needs an ambulance just for her period. That does not make any sense at all. " So I began the medical tour. I saw a neurologist, cardiologist, nutritionist. Every test imaginable, every specialist and every explanation somehow landed on me.

Maybe it's her diet. I was vegetarian at the age of seven. Maybe she's too active. Maybe it's her anxiety. Maybe it's just her.

Eventually at 14 years old, I was put on birth control. The pain stopped. I did not faint. I did not vomit. I actually did not have a period for an entire year. That might sound great. And at 14, it felt like a miracle, but there is something important I want to share, especially for the medical professionals in this room. A natural mental cycle is a vital sign. Ovulation and menstruation are not optional. They are signs of communication between the brain, ovaries, adrenals, thyroid, and liver. When you're on hormonal birth control, you are not having a real period. The bleed that occurs is a withdrawal bleed from synthetic hormones put into your body. It's not a true mental strikele. Suppressing ovulation long-term can disrupt hormonal signaling, nutrient stress, bone density, and metabolic health, and most importantly, mental health. Eventually, I sought birth control and the symptoms came back.

Every month, severe pain, vomiting, heart populations, numbness in my arms and my legs. Cold sweats, I couldn't walk, stomach pain, blood clots coming out of me. After high school, I was diagnosed with basal vagal and desmonrea. I was told desamonorhea meant painful periods. Basically, I was experiencing the same pain as women would have when they're in labor. But for me, it was every single month. And I was told women just have that. I lived with it for over a decade. In my early 20s while traveling alone from Los Angeles to New York, I fainted on airplanes twice. I woke up with oxygen tanks in my lap and was escorted off the plane in a wheelchair. Alone, I spent the next day in hotel rooms recovering so I could still show up for work when less than 24 hours. I told myself it was a vasovagal.

I told myself it was a stress. And again, I told myself this was normal.

Then I reconnected with my now amazing husband. He changed my workouts. He started to have me lift weights. He started to have me eat more protein. I was now vegan at this time, so I was vegetarian, now I became vegan. The energy around me shifted. And for maybe four-ish years, I can't remember. The fainting and pain stopped, but I always had a gut feeling that something deeper was wrong. I promised myself when I turned 30 years old, I would get everything checked. Ironically, when I turned 30, everything changed. Out of nowhere, I fell into a deep depression.

I never said this publicly. I want to say this carefully and honestly. My life was thriving. My marriage was amazing. My career was growing. I was watching in business. And yet, I had intrusive thoughts that scared me. I did not recognize myself. At the time, my physical symptoms came back worse than ever. You would think that as you get older, the pain and the symptoms would not be as intense. For me, it got worse. My period became unbearable. I had numb legs every single night. I developed vertigo, which knew was a symptom of endometriosis, right? I had an endo episode every single month. I did not want to live this way.

I wasn't missing work because I'm crazy and I still drove 40 miles from LA ... Or I'm sorry, Orange County to LA. My nose is running now gross. Sorry. It's okay. This is real. So I drove 40 miles every single day, five days a week. And I would have fainting episodes either at work or vomiting in my car, driving home. And I would drive as fast as I can so I don't faint while driving. My job just thought it was female issues, so I felt guilty calling out for period pain. Thank you so much. Don't judge me.

And one night at two in the morning, I truly thought I was dying. I was on the floor vomiting, shaking, heart racing, drenched in sweat, unable to feel my arms and legs. I couldn't open my eyes. Extra. Thank you. My husband, who is a first responder and is kind of used to this step, still called 911 because it was so scary. At the hospital, I was offered an IV and an ultrasound. And the first time in my life, I said no. Not because I do not believe in medicine, but because I knew something was being missed. That night changed everything. I went back to school because I want to understand my body. I hired hormone specialists. I ran functional labs. I started acupuncture. And my acupuncture said a word no doctor in my 30 years has said to me ever. Endometriosis. Never heard of it.

She told me the only way to confirm it was through surgery. I hesitated. I work a lot. I did not want downtime. I do not want answers I could not fix. But eventually, desperation wins, right? I found an OBGYN who specializes in endometriosis. And to be honest, I told her my husband and I had been trying to conceive for over a year. We had not. We had been trying casually for probably two months at that time. That lie got me surgery and I was taken seriously. That should never be necessary.

At 31 years old, I finally had a diagnosis. Endometriosis was found all over my pelvic organs and intestines. My tubes were flushed during the laparoscopy as well. Thankfully, no organs were removed, which honestly, I was extremely shocked based off my pain and symptoms I was having. I actually went back to work two hours ... Two hours, that's crazy. Two days after my surgery, because the owner of the company said, "Oh, you'll be fine. It's just a small surgery." So I drove 40 miles to work. During my post-op, I was then told the only way to concede was through IVF. I kindly declined because my body and mental health has been through too much.

For the first time, I had answers. As the Taurus and me, I took that diagnosis and ran with it. What started as one year of school turned into three. I became a naturopathic doctor because I truly believe I had to advocate for myself before advocate for all of you. We removed every endocrine disruptor from our home, cookware, candles, personal care products, clothing, food, hair care. I ate my first cheeseburger in 25 years of being vegetarian and vegan. This actually just happened probably about a month ago. I had a burger on probably Saturday and I had five more until Friday. My husband, who's a big meat eater, was so excited. It was out of desperation. It was out of survival. And I want to say this clearly. Your body is not your enemy. Your body is truly your messenger. And for the longest time, I thought my body was my enemy.

I truly more in the 14-year-old version of myself who thought her body was betraying her. I talk so differently to my body today. It's wild. I'm very proud of it. I'm proud of her. Today I do something called period prep. The week before my cycle, I support my body intentionally, nutrition, nervous system, regulation, sleep, minerals, and boundaries. I have not fainted since 2023. Yes. Yes. I am not cured, but I am healing like many of you. And maybe the most powerful part of it all is this community. I once felt completely alone. I was the only one that had period pain growing up. And now I stand here in a room full of people who get it. To the families and partners here, your belief matters to the doctors and researchers. Listening save lives to the patients. Your pain is real. Thank you for holding space for my story.

Thank you for working toward an earlier diagnosis. Thank you for being here. And thank you for reminding all of us that hope healing and answers are possible with all of you. Thank you.