Pregnancy, toddlers, and eating plans

First off, thank you to all of you who left such sweet comments on my previous post. I post here so infrequently so amazed that you're still here, and ever so grateful since outside of y'all only my husband, my best friend, and my mother knows. I'm pregnant. But I know nothing is certain, particularly at this early stage in the game. If you also read my other blog, I won't be writing about anything pregnancy related until I feel truly confident things will be okay, which might be around the 36th week. [old habits die hard? Oh, and my sister-in-law reads it religiously and I'm superstitious about pregnancy.  . . ]

My doctor's appointment is Friday. The positive line was super-dark. Does that mean anything? Does it imply a stronger pregnancy than a faint one? [wow, it didn't take long for my inner crazy to come out did it?] Symptom-wise nothing much happening except I feel like someone has snuck tranquilizers into everything I've eaten today. I am so tired I want to just lie down and nap constantly. And my son is an energizer bunny so this combination is not working great especially when I can't get my sustenance from caffeine in the quantities I once did.

It's a good problem to have.

Since last posting about my efforts to lose weight I've gone from weighing 167 pounds to 145 pounds which puts me safely in a healthy BMI for my height. I had ten more pounds to go to reach my goal weight, but that is perfectly okay!!! This is a good place to start a new pregnancy and unlike the last time when I ate as if the planet would be devoid of food any minute now, I'm going to try to do better.

The issue is relearning new eating habits. I've been sustaining on 800 calories daily since January 2. Once in a while I'll splurge up to 1200 calories but those moments are very rare. I'm used to eating fruit and tea for breakfast. Egg and toast for lunch. A small snack. And a sensible dinner prepared healthy. Now I'm confused how many calories I should consume afraid to take too little and hurt anything going on, and afraid to eat too many because diabetes [and gestational diabetes] is a real and present danger and I don't want to deal with it if I dont' have to. It's odd to have to relearn how to eat more when I was for so long trying to learn how to eat less.

Right now the plan is to eat egg and toast for breakfast, a salad with cheese and olives and an olive oil dressing for lunch, all the fruit and vegetable snacks I desire and a handful of nuts, and a sensible dinner. I can't be certain how many calories this is, but I'm hoping with the focus on good nutrients this will be okay? I also began power walking thirty minutes today and plan to bump it up to an hour a day because going through labor unfit the first time around I realized the value of having endurance.

This is all so surreal. So different than last time. I am hoping for good things. I'm prepared for the worst [as prepared as anyone can be, which is, not much]. And despite my heavy lidded eyes, I'm happy. Ever so happy. Ever so hopeful.

I took a pregnancy test and. . .

It's positive.

Oh. My. Gosh.

#cuepanickandfearsandneurosis

#andjoy

Please God, let it be healthy and happy. Please God, let it stick.

From the mouths of babes

About one week ago, my son pulled me to him from where he sat in his highchair and lifted up my shirt pressing a hand against my stomach. He paused and grinned at it and rubbed my belly and then said baby. He did it again that evening in front of my husband. Later on Skype with my parents. Baby, each and every time. Babies sometimes know these things my mother said with a raised eyebrow and a smile. I imagined the story I'd tell this child, how his/her brother knew they were coming before anyone else did, because he had a sense beyond all of ours borne of pure innocence that is part and parcel of babyhood.

And today I got my period. It's heavy like last month, heavier than I've ever had in my life and hurt more than I can bear. It's funny, I've lost a lot of weight, over twenty pounds so far, and its been difficult involving a lot of dieting and care, but the weight of infertility comes back on in an instant, fitting like an old glove.

Before my son the obstacle in pregnancy was simply ovulating. Once I ovulated pregnancy always followed. I ovulated three times. Each time I got pregnant. My cycles are normal again, I've ovulated three times now this year, and yet there is no pregnancy. I know these things take time but for me its all such a guessing game.

I hung out with a friend last night and she's pregnant with her second timing it to be two years after the birth of her first little girl. She said they wanted to space them this way as its easier according to studies. I wanted to tell her it must be nice to have that luxury to follow studies so faithfully, but how can I fault her for having it easier? How can I feel a tinge of bitterness when I have one, one I thought I wouldnt have.

In some ways its nice to feel this sting. It's good to remember how much I now have and how dark it was when I didn't. How while I nurse an empty womb, I am holding my son all the same.

That's me in the corner. That's me in the spotlight. Losing my . . .

As some of you know I'm a contributing author in an anthology that came out last month. To put a long story short, my local religious community shunned the book, removing it from their book club queu and informing the facebook world that they hated it. While I understand if someone doesn't like it and I didnt' frankly expect them to given their conservative leanings, I didn't expect them to defy the norms of politeness and announce it so harshly online for all the world [including me] to see.

I'm not as spiritual as I'd like but I do want my son in addition to having friends of all walks of life, race and faith, I do want him to have friends in the religious community, the issue is where I live my particular religious community sucks. No other word for it. They are stunted at 10th grade with 10th grade bullying, gossiping, drama, and pettiness. They judge you for the cars you drive, the purse you have, and no matter what they will be your best friends as long as you host tons of fun parties and invite them to it. It's small petty and as much as I enjoy me some guilty-Real House Wives of Blank County on BRAVO I don't want it in my personal life.

And yet that is what I have. That is my community.

I want my son to have friends who are part of his faith. I'm terrified that I'm setting him on a road where he will not have faith and for me this is important. HE can choose later if he doesn't want it, but I need to do my part to give him the opportunity to want it. But what do I do? Invite people I hate who are rude to my face and talk about things that dry up my soul so he can play with their kids? My parents did it. Do I have to do it too?

I feel guilt that I want nothing to do with these people. And guilt that all I have to do to give W these friendships is to host a couple of dinner parties and put on a pained smile and then go to the homes of these people myself. I'm so torn over this I'm literally walking around choking back tears. Part of it is hurt to be publicly called out. Part of it is a deep fear of how much my son will be shortchanged.

I've struggled mightily with sharing this on my regular blog but the shitstorm that could erupt makes me think its not worth the trouble especially since the ramifications could also affect my husband and his friendships and I don't think that will be worth it, so I'm coming here to my safe space. Thanks for reading, have any of you remotely had to struggle with this? Any advice or perspective would be much appreciated. Thank you.

Pregnant or not, when there is no ambiguity

At the grocery store I stared at the sushi. My strict diet limits what I can eat but sushi at about 450 calories could work especially on a Friday, the end of a long week filled with play dates and chasing a toddler learning the art of tantrums. I plucked it in the cart. What if I'm pregnant? I wondered. And yet, I'm not even planning to test until Monday. At my doctor's physical planned strategically to avoid me going mental over purchased pregnancy tests. It should be fine I reasoned.

W took off his shoes in the car and flung them. A series of days of nausea and fatigue preceded today, uterine pulls and twitching making me feel more confident that something was happening. Two and a half years apart, I counted out. I wondered how my son would react to a sibling. How I should start potty training him soon. How they'd go to elementary school together. How I wondered if I'd have more. And then about my weight, and how its two pounds to normal BMI and well, that will all go to crap now won't it. But it was worth it.

And then I stepped out of the car and felt like I peed my pants. Blood. Not a minor spotting and then flow of a period but heavier and redder with small clots.

It came early. And I don't need two lines on a pregnancy test to know what this is.

It's entirely possible I'm wrong. Either way, there was no heart beat flickering on a screen. There was no doctor congratulating me and sending me on my way with a page of appointments. A period or an early. . . it doesn't really make a difference. It means there's no baby this month. I knew to expect this. I know sex doesn't equal baby. I guess the nausea and fatigue, the getting up to pee the past few nights [a thing that only happens in pregnancy for me] and the vivid dreams were just nothing more than what they were. Maybe because I lost my first pregnancy, my Speck conceived this month three years ago. . . that this hurts so much. I am a logical person and I'm telling myself this is just a no for now. . . but for some reason all the grief of infertility and loss is caving in on me, my heart feels broken. I'm embarassed to even say this. Afraid of rolled eyes about my dramatics here. . . but its my truth. It's how I feel.

I guess I won't have to worry as I eat my sushi.

Two Week Wait

First, WOW you're still here!!! Thank you!!!! I listened to your advice, and well, we tried. My ovulation used to last three days or so, whenever it deigned to arrive, but this time it was for just 24 hours. I'm glad I took advantage of the window. Nothing is a given, least of all this. As you guys suggested, I'm sticking with my diet, and should I be lucky enough to see two lines two weeks from yesterday, I will eat well, exercise, and generally not eat whatever the heck I want during pregnancy which is what I did last time. We shall see what happens, but I'm well aware, anything beyond the child I already have is just whipped cream and sprinkles on an already wonderful situation.

No matter what, I'm not letting myself slide back to the depression that dominated me on the road to my son. . . I didn't realize I was in such a dark place until I emerged. In the back of my mind I worry about a miscarriage and how I will handle it. But I can't look to the what if's. I just have to go forward and hope for the best.

Some of you mentioned it had been a while, and I am still blogging, but at my other spot, my non-anonymous one, if you click on the comments to the previous post, I replied to comments using my other blog information. So if you'd like, see you there too :)

Okay, here's to hoping I can manage to be calm, serene and the very image of Buddha these next two weeks. Right. :)

To try or not to try. Your advice desired. Please.

I've come a long way from the last time I posted about doubling my joy and trying for #2. Then, I was terrified of the needles and the high risk screenings and as much as I wanted another child, the process of getting there frankly terrified me.

Not anymore. Now, I regard pregnant bellies with a mixture of nostalgia and longing. I look at them as they press their hands against their lower back and wish for it so bad my arms ache. It's different now ofcourse. I have a toddling child who I love more than air. My heart is full. Still, the heart is a greedy beast.

Getting in the way was my weight. I wanted to be at a healthy weight, which for my height was 149. And as many of you know, this is like the challenge that won't quit as I struggled so long with it. Finally, though, since January, the weight has been peeling off. I'm now 5 pounds away from my healthy BMI.

And today, I ovulated for the first time since I got pregnant with my son.

I'm sharing this here on this site that likely no one reads anymore, because no one can understand this but you. What it feels to realize you ovulated after years of not. I wanted to cry because I was this weight and it was this very month three years ago that I ovulated for the first time ever and had my Speck that never lived past the first trimester. I'm here again. Ovulation is not my given. It's something that is putting me in an emotional tailspin.

My first instinct is to make like rabbits, and try, a normal healthy ovulation is just something I'm not accustomed to seeing. And while ovulation + sex does not always equal baby, for me, each time I had a real ovulation, I did get pregnant. So its not a far stretch that if we try, we'll at least for the time being, conceive. No guaruntees on miscarriages.

Except, I'm five pounds away from my weight loss goal. It's not an easy goal to be so close to and sadly I'm getting there by pretty much subsisting on 800-900 calories a day. I've tried everything, and this is the only thing that gets my weight moving. Not healthy, but working. I can't sustain this if I am pregnant or think I am. Weight loss is more than just a vanity project. I had gestational diabetes, I have insulin resistance, and my blood work shows I'm very much at risk for diabetes and so being at a healthy weight is important.

And I'm in a two bedroom condo in which we can't move. We're house hunting but no guaruntees we'd find it if by the time we'd have a baby.

K, my husband, says its entirely up to me. He says my weight loss has helped me ovulate [which is likely true] and that who is to say I will not ovulate next month and the month after now that I've reached this magic number. He says I could wait. Get my weight down. And then try. The goal was to begin trying in March anyways. But, then, its like looking at a gift, and dumping in the trash.

I mean, I could wait until March? Then again, I'm just five pounds to normal. Just eat 1200 a day until the pregnancy test? And then healthy eating onwards after that? or is it just a risk that's silly to take?

I am so conflicted. I am so scared. I am so confused.

If anyone is reading this, I would love your perspective: In my shoes what would you do?

"Trying to Conceive" to fertiles

I had a very awkward conversation with my mother the other day and I felt the need to share it here because really, only y'all will get it. I hope.

Mom: When do you think you'll try for another baby?
Me: I don't know, maybe in a few months, maybe next year, just don't know right now.
Mom: So you're on the pill? That can be dangerous. . .
Me: No, not on the pill.
Mom: What then?
Me: Nothing.
Mom. So you're trying.
Me: No.
Mom: But if you are not using protection then you're trying.
Me: No. Really, no. I mean if it happened great. But we're not trying.
Mom: If you don't use protection you're trying.

I honestly had forgotten that in the world of fertiles you can really just have sex and get pregnant as simple as that. So in my mom's world, we are trying. I wish she knew that after what I've been to [as you all have too] that having sex and getting pregnant is not really trying much of anything at all.

Standstill

Since I began trying to eat better and live a better healthier lifestyle things have improved. I exercised four times last week. I ate between 1200-1400 calories per day erring on the lower end most days. I have not touched any junk food, nor any white rice, nor pasta.

And I've lost no weight.

I had seen a negative five pound loss which inexplicably went back to a two pound loss and for the past 2.5 weeks its stayed just there, not budging an inch.

I wish I had kept journals of previous weight loss. I want to say that this might be normal. That my body resists my initial attempts to lose weight but over time it will figure it out and what I'm doing will work. I mean logically, less calories in + exercise = weight loss. It's scientific I thought. And yet my body is holding on for dear life to every fat cell a though a famine is around the bend not a McDonald's and Sonic drive-up.

Sigh. I'm still holding strong. Not giving up. But I am discouraged. I gave up carbs for dinner, then carbs for lunch. Carbwise I have two cups of tea with a teaspoon of sugar, one piece of fruit, and a glass of milk daily. That's it. I just don't get it.

Emotional Eating. Damn You.

I went to Whole Foods today to get some meatloaf and salmon. I normally struggle there because they have these chocolate chip cookies that are amazing. Nuke them for 30 seconds. Glass of warm milk. Heaven. Everytime I go its a mental struggle. This time- I nearly forgot about them until I passed them on my way to check- out- and even then- no struggle at all. It's truly amazing to see my body let go of its addiction and constant need for sugar. I do have sugar. I have a spoon in my tea that I have every day. But no cakes, chips, junk food of any sort. No rice or noodles for that matter either. And the transformation of my cravings is amazing.

But damn you emotional eating. I thought you were a fancy psycho-babble term. I pictured emotional eaters weeping over a big gallon of icecream spoon in hand huddled in a corner in the dead of night. But no.

I wrote my second novel and I am really proud of it. I actually sort of LOVE it. So much that I'm okay that the first one got put on hold because tTHIS ONE? This one will knock off an editor's socks. I am that confident in its awesomeness if someone will but give it a chance. I have an agent. I have been trying to reach my agent to get this manuscript to her for her to read. She read the first three chapters in January and gave me a thumbs up to keep going. Which I have. Working toiling, day after day, staying up late, using up all W's nap hours to get this book written, and now its done and I love it. Except I CANT REACH HER. Twitter. Text. Cell phone. Work Phone. E-mail. Nada.

I know she will eventually get back to me. I think. But then, how long until she reads my manuscript? Gives me feedback? It's all making me antsy.

And as I considered it I found myself eating a handful of cashews. Then nibbling on grapes. Not because I was hungry. Or wanting it. Just because. And then I started thinking about that cookie at Whole Foods. Wishing I had it. Wishing I could eat it.

OH. So THAT is what emotional eating is.

I promptly turned on my Wii and did some running and yoga. And I feel better. Still anxious. Stressed. Nervous. But better.

I'm still in my calorie quota for today, but had I not this blog, and my friend who is dieting with me, I KNOW today is the kind of day I would have run out to the nearby sonic ordered a big ice cream sundae and ate it in the car feeling bad for myself and feeling like I deserved this one joy just now.

But I didn't. This is progress. Bigger progress than I thought myself capable of.

PCOS. Dieting. And Ownership.

I resisted cake two days in a row this weekend. While my husband eats ice-cream bars, I eat frozen grapes for dessert [Thanks for the tip Claire!]. I am sticking to 1200-1500 calories per day. And the fact that I am doing this with a friend who also remembers a time when she was a size she loved, and has the same exact weight loss goal as me- its keeping me honest because I don't want to let her down since I truly feel we're in it together.

And today I stepped on the scale and I lost five pounds.

I also had a realization. I have PCOS. The classic case with a ring around the ovaries of eggs that never self-actualized and insulin-resistance running through my blood. My grandfather, two aunts, one uncle, all have type II diabetes. Four cousins have PCOS. I had gestational diabetes. I cannot run away from the reality. Diabetes is where I'm headed if I allow my sweet tooth to reign over me.

While I can debate all I want about what came first, the PCOS or the weight issues. The fact is I haven't been eating healthy. Normal me would have eaten a bite of cake. Then a second because hell, I had one slice why not just start "fresh" tomorrow and go crazy today? And then repeat again the day after.

Today as I cleaned my bedroom I came across a hershey wrapper. It still had one square inside. I found it stuffed in my nightstand. I must have eaten it in secret some time ago so my husband wouldn't see. And I realized: This isn't normal to hide your sweets and keep promising to "get clean" on the elusive 'next day'.

I may not be able to stop diabetes, or PCOS, or future gestational diabetes, but I can at least stop giving my body the things that certainly don't help it deal with those issues. Every bite of cake I refrain from, I'm giving my body a chance at health, a chance to be free from diabetes.

This is more than just fitting back into my size 4 jeans now. This is about taking back my control. And owning my part so it wont happen again.

Baby Showers. Still Hurt.

Baby showers remain remarkably painful affairs. I still refrain from attending when at all possible. I wish I knew why. It is a celebration of the impending arrival of new life. It is enjoying the company of friends. And cooing over a pregnant belly. And debating the merits of boys versus girls. And playing silly baby shower games that kindergartners might find tedious. Oh yeah, now I remember why. I'm also scarred- I attended too many during my season of infertility and loss- I had to sit there and clap at a baby bonnet while my insides were torn into shreds and nod sympathetically as the pregnant party bemoaned how 'big she looked' and then promptly bury my head against the steering wheel, safely away from prying eyes to weep until my soul felt thirsty. As lovely as my son is, as much as he has helped heal my open wounds, I am still wounded- and these sorts of events- still hurt.

I am attending one today despite a million reasons not to. The girl in question painted her nursery in the first trimester, and wanted to have a baby, and then- just did. And I can't hate her for this. For her good fortune. For her lack of struggles since we each have our own crosses to bear- but- I'd rather visit once the baby is born, bring a gift- and avoid the festivities of a baby shower. I had to go since I got talked into a carpool that I despite my lawyer skills, could not talk myself out of, so we will be driving one hour one-way to attend- with no means to leave early.

I will guess the size of her belly. And marvel at baby booties, and blankets. And then I'm going to go home and hold my son so tight- and remind myself that things aren't the same. I might have to visit my dark place some days, but I no longer live there. I've dressed up this dark place with window coverings and a fresh coat of paint, but days like today I am reminded I cannot change what it is and that I must be gentle with this ugly, darker part of me.

Eating from the brain. Eating from the heart.

I really didn't think I was an emotional eater. I thought I just craved sweets. End of story. But as I am doing this whole weight-loss journey I realize its more than that. We are thinking of putting our house on the market and moving closer to the city. Not the best to put your house on the market. Such a bad time in fact that we'd lose more than half our equity. The logic is we'll make up the loss by purchasing a house we could never afford in the city since prices there have gone down too. It's stressful to figure this out all the while your house is having major issues and you are putting money in you know you will NEVER see back.

So today I had egg/toast/tea and then two bowls of soup for lunch with two tall glasses of water. My stomach is full. Yet, as I was driving with W in the backseat, I wanted to stop at the sonic on the way to the grocery store to get a big bowl of icecream. And then at the grocery store I wanted a nice warm chocolate chip cookie. Two. Maybe three. And I wasn't hungry. My stomach was full. I want to lose weight. And yet- I wanted these other things- and I realized then, for the first time, that why yes, I do emotional eat. I want to eat the cookie and the ice cream because tehy will make me feel better. They taste delicious and for that brief moment life will feel better though if I think it all through [which I did] I will regret messing with my progrss- and I know when it comes to crack-sugar [ie. anything in cakes, cookies, etc] I can't just have one bite and a bite now will mean a wasted weekend. That's just how it is.

I don't know what this information tells me because you see, as much as I now am aware I have tendencies to emotionally eat, it does not mean that I don't want to do it.

Haven't done it. But want to.

How strange to learn something new about yourself

Wanting a girl. Apparently.

I went to a mom's group. All nice women. Discussing boys and girls. It's my fault. I started it as we discussed what we thought we were having when we were pregnant.

Me: I was convinced it was a girl- when the doctor said boy- I told him he had to be mistaken.
Mom1: Oh yes- I was devestated when I learned I was having a boy.
Mom2: I burst into tears hysterical- my husband had to comfort me.
Mom3: Well the next one might be a girl you have hope!
Me: Well, I didn't care either way, I just was thinking it was a girl. I had a hard time getting and staying pregnant so as long as the baby was healthy it was my only concern.

I hated being the Debbie Downer- but I could not sit there as people whined about having boys. I realize I started it- but never with the intention that others took it with.

Seriously. Tears on your first child because you wanted a girl. Seriously.

The anatomy of a brownie- and a craving

Michele, you were right. There is benefit in paying attention to why we overeat. I thought I indulged in sweets because they tasted good and so I wanted them. While this is a BIG part of it- I realized last night there is more to it. It wasn't actually the brownie- its still sitting on the counter- feel bad throwing it away but its likely stale so no use eating it- will toss it after I write this- but it was actually these ice cream sandwiches in the freezer. They are a low-fat Skinny Cow mega-pack I bought weeks ago at Sam's Club. Because I'm avoiding sugar- though they are low-fat I am not eating them- plus they have so many preservatives- its unsettling.

Evening neared- K asked me if I wanted one as he got one out of the freezer. I said no. But it was a very wavering no after an entire day of being good and strong and sticking with the plan. As the evening wore on, I kept thinking of it. The ice cream sandwich- how it wasn't a big deal- 140 calories, a tiny bit of sugar really- and I needed to wean off sugar- not just cut it cold turkey- and I wanted it- around 11 I finally asked K, "can you bring me the ice cream sandwhich" and he looked at me and said, "but its so late, we're about to sleep" and I nodded, duly chastened.

Went to sleep, woke up, and the craving is gone and I'm SO glad I didn't have it.

My evening hours after dinner are my weakest hours. They always have been. I can look back to sneaking out when I was 15 to go to the fridge and eat leftovers. I always say I have a bad metabolism but looking back at how I ate- I'm beginning to think it wasn't that bad. There is something maybe rewarding about it- like those calories don't count- though they do in the worst ways.

Now I know- its not that I want the ice cream or the other crap, its that I feel like I want it- they aren't the same thing. When I'm denying it- my mind is doing the talking. When I'm indulging, its my baser instincts. I hope this will help- realizing this not for the first time, but in a more profound way.

The thing is I CAN DO THIS. Not just back in the day, but now. I had gestational diabetes and I abstained. I did it because I had to. I fast during Ramadan, not tempted by so much as a french fry. I can do this- I need to believe I can.

Coming up next its Friday, the weekend- the worst worst time for me to diet -gatherings where dessert is part of the fare and everyone will notice you not take a bite [and you feel embarassed since you've been this weight all tehse years diet or not dieting so you think they're mocking you in their heads and you think 'I'll have a bite'] If you're reading and have any tips for handling outings and weekends- I'd love to hear. This weekend? A kid's birthday party with Publix sheet cake- I even indulged when I had GD on a slice at my baby shower- Oi.

Thanks for reading and your support.

The two week weight loss plan

Claire gave me some great food for thought and I spent the day, really thinking about my binge post-declaring-weight-loss and what it meant. And while perhaps I shouldn't be overthinking it- if you've been reading my blog for any amount of time you know, overthinking is just what I do.

Still, I do think that introspection is required. Today, I did not limit myself, I simply observed how I ate- and while I didn't eat great- I noticed that after I would finish something bad for me, like a granola bar with chocolate chips- I felt a sense of disappointment afterwards. Not guilt for having eaten, but disappointment that eating it did not give me the satisfaction I craved- and I then wanted another one- and another one- and I soon realized I could eat twenty and they're not giving me the satisfaction, the sense of fulfillment that I want.

I also realized that I am addicted. And while meth and crack recoverers can avoid their former social circle to be away from the triggers- food is everywhere and so fixing this is going to be an ongoing battle.

I thought back to when I lost thirty pounds when I was getting married. I had internal motivation. I felt good losing the weight. I loved the pants getting looser- and I had grown accustomed to eating less- bites of a hershey kiss doing for me the same as what a container would do for me now. Satisfy me.

I need to teach myself the same habits I had learned back then. I need to believe that despite the fact that I gained it back- that I can do it again.

I am so rooted in the belief that I will fail. Even K tells me that, "I'll have to see it to believe it" based on my many failed attempts- that I'm scared to believe I can do it. And when you think that sooner or later you'll fail, when a giant chocolate cake presents itself you indulge because hey, you're going to fail sooner or later anyways, right?

I want to lose weight because:

• I want my clothes to fit right again
• I want to possibly fight PCOS
• I want to ward of type II diabetes
• an easier time if/when I get pregnant again
• I want my son to see me do this and to see TWO health conscious parents

And- I want to not let my cravings own me. I need to own my cravings. I want my self-control and self-discipline back. I want that more than I want to even lose the weight.

Because sugar is my biggest culprit- my biggest weakness- and one bite leads to two and to three- and then on and so forth- my plan is to give up sugar, rice and pasta for the next two weeks. It's not atkins. It's not south beach. It's just getting rid of sugar, rice and pasta keeping fruit and vegetables intact. I'm also going to track my weight and calories on "myfitnesspal" which is like a free weight watchers and totally awesome- and I'll update here from time-to-time.

Just the thought of going sugar-free is scaring me- but I need to do it because I need to prove to myself that I'm in charge of my body.

Once I can get a hold of my sugar cravings, two weeks hence, I will reassess and make changes to my dieting- but just like breastfeeding was hell on earth those first few weeks, and I survived only by going one feed at a time, so with sugar withdrawal- Ill have to handle it one meal at a time.

Here's hoping I can do this.

Weight Loss- Easier Said. . . Than Done.

So I wrote a post about how I intend to lose weight, how I'd like to drop some weight by my 32nd birthday and before I try to conceive again- and then- I signed off- and went to McDonalds and had a vanilla ice cream cone followed with M&Ms and Pad Thai for dinner.

What. the. fuck?

I never go to McDonalds. My last trip to McDonalds was in 2009 in Spain when we could find nothing in our near the vicinity that didn't have pork, and before then? When I was 18. I don't know what possessed me to declare myself on a diet and then run off to stuff myself with as much sugar as possible.

I think part of it is this fear to give up sugar. To eat healthy. I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'm going to fail. Because I've failed so many times before. Because weight loss has always been such a damn struggle- I dont think I can do it- and my body in rebellion against my mind- went to McDonalds.

I used to be a size four, it was a brief time but it was a beautiful time and since then I've looked back with wistfulness wanting it again, never giving away the clothes from that era, but never doing what it takes to get back to where I once was.

I have been at this weight for five years now. I'm ashamed of it. So ashamed I cannot even state it here on this private blog with people who support me, the only ones reading. I begin with sincere effort- and then I drop off- I begin- then I fail.

Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I'm going to sit down and get more specific. I'm going to make a clear goal. A clear plan. And I will do this. I can do it. I must do it.

PCOS. Weight Loss. And a new bloggy focus.

I've been reading Michele's blog for years now and her recent journey to weight loss is inspiring not just because she succeeded but because she struggled like me, she has PCOS, and she did it. She succeeded. Not to look like a cover-girl [though she looks lovely- and always has] but for the right reasons. I e-mailed her today and asked her if she felt her blogging helped her succeed and she said it did because it kept her accountable.

I hesitated writing about my weight-loss journey here because this is a blog about infertility and loss- but according to my doctor- my PCOS is directly tied with weight. [though what came first, the chicken or the egg e.g. weight caused PCOS or PCOS caused weight I can't be sure] so weight loss is related to the theme of this space.

I've hidden behind my PCOS for years as the reason I've struggled but Michele has PCOS and she did it. And my story is similar to hers in that as much as the medical issues may play a part in the struggle- I DO eat more than I should- I am addicted to sugar to an unhealthy crack-addict degree- and its time to stop so I can finally conquer this- so I can reduce my chance of type II diabetes which runs rampant in my family and which thanks to gest. diabetes I am at an incrased risk for, and so my son will learn to do as I do not as I say.

So I'm dusting the cobwebs off this blog- and I'll be writing here in this anonymous space [away from the eyes of my extended family] to hold myself accountable and also to see for myself, if I can do this. If I stick to calorie control and being good about my diet- can I honestly lose weight? If not- if PCOS just makes this impossible- then at least I'll have this blog to print and take to my doctor to show her just how strict I was and how little I achieved. Though, I hope this is not the case.

March 28- August 28- almost in time for my 32nd birthday. I am going to hold back from setting a weight loss numerical goal- just the goal to kick my sweet addiction, and to watch my calories, and conquer this beast once and for all. I'm using "my fitness pal" a free app and website that helps me track my calories and keeps me accountable no matter where I am.

So while this blog will be updated more regularly, it might also get quite boring with weight-loss vents and pitfalls, so if you decide to stop reading, I understand [really!] and if you do keep reading- thanks, your support means the world.

The pregnancy possibility- answered

Six a.m.

I whispered to my husband, who was holding safe the pregnancy test I purchased until it was exactly 14dpo and not a moment before, that I needed to test now- he told me the secret hiding place- under the bathroom sink- and I went to take the test.

I brought it back to the bedroom and put it on the night stand, snuggled in bed with my husband and my son, and waited while running a hand over his soft hair.

I thought about what it would be like to have two babies under two.
How would I do it? Would I have to wean W early? What about my diet?

And then my mind shifted to . . .

new baby smells, and a friend for W, and my God not having to try not having to struggle and stare at blank pregnancy tests month after month, year after year, doctor's visits, and fertility drugs and the painful way that infertility can leach onto your mind and your soul like a parasite sucking everything else from you but that one thought- how nice to complete my family without struggling this time. What a beautiful gift- to be the mythical family that has a surprise baby after years of struggle.

"It's time," my husband said. So I looked over at the test resting under the glow of my salt rock lamp and. . .

negative.

Instead of tears, a stabbing pain, I felt.. . oh. A trickle of disappointment especially for my husband who looked positively crestfallen [an expression I never saw in all our years of negatives before W] and a mild building of apprehension as I realize that to have my joy doubled- I will have to go through some serious shit. Again.

Still. I'm okay. Feeling a little silly. That after all this time I listened to signs and symptoms and just felt so fucking sure.

I also decided that I'm not ready to go through the range of emotions that infertility and loss bring with it [and I'm fairly certain I will have a loss before I have success as I did with W] I desperately want my son to have a sibling to be his shoulder when we are gone- but I need a little bit of time to enjoy my son and heal my body and more importantly my still open wounds. K agreed, this almost possibility affecting him deeper than I imagined- we both need to let there be some distance- before we put our hearts on the line like that again.

Could it? No. Maybe? Sigh.

I'm not sure how but I've found myself in a two week wait. It was not expected nor planned as I wanted to give my body at least 18 months to heal before thinking about it. I'm on a weight loss kick having shed about 12 pounds since January and wanted to be in good physical shape before putting my body through the ringer again. Plus I'm not on metformin and my cycles have gone wonky again [Thank you PCOS]- and yet I think spontaneity may have coincided with ovulation. . . I tell myself its nothing. It could be nothing- and yet- there I go again- looking at signs, wondering if the headache means something, the sprouting of nausea- even though its only been 5 days and no signs appear so soon- and then I think I've been pregnant three times and I'm feeling similar things? But then I wonder if I'm delusional- because five days.

So we'll see. March 27th I'll test if I need to. What goes after if its two lines? The lovenox and doctor appointments and GD fun part deux? I'm going to take it one day at a time. Ovulation does not always equal pregnancy- and sadly pregnancy does always not equal baby. Still- I have W this time- and I think that's going to make all the difference.

I already sound saner than last time don't I?

Clearly this is not on my regular blog- but I needed a place to sort through it- so obviously its a big old bloggy secret until I know something! :)