You'd think someone who likes to write as much as I do would keep up with her blog and not skip months at a time. I come from a long line of procrastinators. It's only natural. Hopefully you haven't keeled over and died anxiously awaiting my next blurb and are still willing to catch up on my latest happenings. Let's begin with the obvious: it's July now and it's suffocating to go outside. I despise sweating, period. I can deal with the sheen that develops from just walking onto my front porch. I call this "glistening". If I have sweat between my fat rolls when I sit down and I can feel it dripping down my back from just walking up the stairs to the pool, I immediately tap out and head for the nearest A/C asap. I call this "unattractive". I can't imagine being pregnant during the summer. Perhaps God knows how annoying I would be to him if I were pregnant now with all the "OH MY GOD IT'S HOT" rants so he hasn't let it happen yet...
We are leaving in the morning for our annual Myrtle Beach (partial) family vacation. I can't count on my hands how many summers I've spent at the beach. I can't remember what happened each year and who went with us, where we stayed, etc. but I can usually remember bits and pieces from every trip. Time has certainly changed things though and it's uncanny to me how it changes in just short periods of time. I remember being at the beach different summers and thinking "I start my senior year in high school in a few months" or "where will I be working when school starts in a few months" or "maybe next year I'll have my future husband here with me". Just last year, Ryann and I were walking in from the surf and this little girl, maybe 1 or 2, was playing in a small puddle with her mom. Ryann was like, "Maybe that'll be you next year". I remember, specifically, bursting out with laughter saying "BAHAHA YEAH RIGHT!" Here it is almost a year later and the thought of taking a baby to the beach isn't so foreign to me. Funny how perspectives change so quickly.
I think I started writing about my miscarriage because it is therapeutic, or at least that's what my mom thinks. It does help me sort my feelings and gives me an outlet. It also helps in the sense that I've had so many people respond to my posts and email me personally with their own stories of pregnancies, miscarriages, and other encouraging words. Mike and I are doing so well and honestly don't have that many "issues" over our mishap. One of the reasons we are so made for each other is that we find humor in EVERY situation, regardless of how morbid or depressing it can be. My school send me a dish garden when I miscarried and while it was so incredibly thoughtful, both of us busted out laughing and said, "what makes them think we'll be able to keep this plant alive?" See. So immature. Sidenote: the plant is still thriving today and I make it a point to keep it alive, even almost 9 months later!
I visited Dr. G (not because I call him a cool name but because I honestly can't remember how to spell it right now) (oh, and he's my OB-GYN) in late June. This was my 6 month post mishap appointment. Everything checked out perfectly and there is nothing physically wrong with me that would cause me not to get pregnant again. Obviously Mike isn't the problem; the swimmers can get there, but my oven just burnt out before they were cooked. Probably not the best analogy, but you get the point. I had like an hour talk with the doc before he examined me and I told him about all my period issues. Keep in mind, I love this man and trust him whole-heartedly. However, he thinks the reason my cycles are insane and possible issues with conceiving are because I have gained weight. Yes. His medical advice for me NOT getting pregnant is because I'm fat. At least, this is all my brain was processing while I was listening to him explain how the body reacts due to weight gain. He's showing me diagrams and doing a wonderful presentation about what foods and exercise I should be doing...and I have a glazed-over look on my face because I am mentally listing EVERY SINGLE FAT PERSON I KNOW THAT HAS EVER HAD A KID! What the hell, doc.
When I weighed in at his office in November, I weighed 150. When I weighed in last month, I was 170. That's 20 pounds in 8 months. For those of you who know me very personally, you know I had a hellacious school year. So, between my personal and professional life this past year, it's apparent that Number One: I survived. Number Two: I ate enough food to feed the entire population of Turkmenistan. This brings me to the newest topic I shall be blogging about...losing. freaking. 20. pounds. (at least...but shooting for 35!)
Obviously, this endeavor will not begin until AFTER I return from the beach. At said beach, I will try not to eat my current weight in steak, seafood, and ice cream. However, it is very possible that I will eat that amount but burn it off by walking to the ice cream stand every night at 11. Let's face it, I can't walk up and down the beach for exercise because I will get chub-rub between my thighs and just be Debby Downer for the rest of the trip. Now do you see what I'm up against?
Please join me in my newest adventure. I've set aside the baby crazy thoughts and now have my sights on Skinny Kristin. Because let's be honest people, it's a known fact that 5'3 chubby girls can't have babies until they lose 20 pounds. Eek!
We are leaving in the morning for our annual Myrtle Beach (partial) family vacation. I can't count on my hands how many summers I've spent at the beach. I can't remember what happened each year and who went with us, where we stayed, etc. but I can usually remember bits and pieces from every trip. Time has certainly changed things though and it's uncanny to me how it changes in just short periods of time. I remember being at the beach different summers and thinking "I start my senior year in high school in a few months" or "where will I be working when school starts in a few months" or "maybe next year I'll have my future husband here with me". Just last year, Ryann and I were walking in from the surf and this little girl, maybe 1 or 2, was playing in a small puddle with her mom. Ryann was like, "Maybe that'll be you next year". I remember, specifically, bursting out with laughter saying "BAHAHA YEAH RIGHT!" Here it is almost a year later and the thought of taking a baby to the beach isn't so foreign to me. Funny how perspectives change so quickly.
I think I started writing about my miscarriage because it is therapeutic, or at least that's what my mom thinks. It does help me sort my feelings and gives me an outlet. It also helps in the sense that I've had so many people respond to my posts and email me personally with their own stories of pregnancies, miscarriages, and other encouraging words. Mike and I are doing so well and honestly don't have that many "issues" over our mishap. One of the reasons we are so made for each other is that we find humor in EVERY situation, regardless of how morbid or depressing it can be. My school send me a dish garden when I miscarried and while it was so incredibly thoughtful, both of us busted out laughing and said, "what makes them think we'll be able to keep this plant alive?" See. So immature. Sidenote: the plant is still thriving today and I make it a point to keep it alive, even almost 9 months later!
I visited Dr. G (not because I call him a cool name but because I honestly can't remember how to spell it right now) (oh, and he's my OB-GYN) in late June. This was my 6 month post mishap appointment. Everything checked out perfectly and there is nothing physically wrong with me that would cause me not to get pregnant again. Obviously Mike isn't the problem; the swimmers can get there, but my oven just burnt out before they were cooked. Probably not the best analogy, but you get the point. I had like an hour talk with the doc before he examined me and I told him about all my period issues. Keep in mind, I love this man and trust him whole-heartedly. However, he thinks the reason my cycles are insane and possible issues with conceiving are because I have gained weight. Yes. His medical advice for me NOT getting pregnant is because I'm fat. At least, this is all my brain was processing while I was listening to him explain how the body reacts due to weight gain. He's showing me diagrams and doing a wonderful presentation about what foods and exercise I should be doing...and I have a glazed-over look on my face because I am mentally listing EVERY SINGLE FAT PERSON I KNOW THAT HAS EVER HAD A KID! What the hell, doc.
When I weighed in at his office in November, I weighed 150. When I weighed in last month, I was 170. That's 20 pounds in 8 months. For those of you who know me very personally, you know I had a hellacious school year. So, between my personal and professional life this past year, it's apparent that Number One: I survived. Number Two: I ate enough food to feed the entire population of Turkmenistan. This brings me to the newest topic I shall be blogging about...losing. freaking. 20. pounds. (at least...but shooting for 35!)
Obviously, this endeavor will not begin until AFTER I return from the beach. At said beach, I will try not to eat my current weight in steak, seafood, and ice cream. However, it is very possible that I will eat that amount but burn it off by walking to the ice cream stand every night at 11. Let's face it, I can't walk up and down the beach for exercise because I will get chub-rub between my thighs and just be Debby Downer for the rest of the trip. Now do you see what I'm up against?
Please join me in my newest adventure. I've set aside the baby crazy thoughts and now have my sights on Skinny Kristin. Because let's be honest people, it's a known fact that 5'3 chubby girls can't have babies until they lose 20 pounds. Eek!
I must clarify that clearly my doctor was not as brief and silly in his assumption as I took him. Medically, because of rapid increases of weight, the body has no time to adjust from month to month, thus causing painful periods, mood swings, unpredictable ovulation schedules, etc. My doc and I have been through much in the 7 years I have been seeing him. Please don't think I doubt him professionally or post comments that I need a new doctor. I was just finding humor in a depressing situation ;) Besides, I've been in a relationship with Dr. G much longer than I have with my own husband. Both have seen my cookie at its skinniest and at its fattest. Doesn't matter that one gets paid ridiculously to see it.
ReplyDeleteLove your blog! I am incredibly sorry to hear about "the mishap". Any woman that goes through that is incredibly strong in my book. I was baby crazy too before I got pregnant. Had my ovulation calendar on the fridge so we (ok, I) could see when my flower was at full bloom! :) and would get disappointed every time I got my period. I remember having the conversation with my cousin Dec15th (right after she just had her son!) and saying, I just need to stop worrying about it and let it happen when it's gonna happen. Dec26th was when we conceived. I'm glad you are writing about it. It truly does help you to process the situation. And once you "give it to God" it will happen! I will definitely pray for those desires for you, girl!! And let us chubby girls unite and kick the crap out of this weight! You can do it. You've got great motivation! :)
ReplyDelete