I think I am going to start posting these pictures weekly, probably every Friday. I think every day might get a bit obnoxious.
Happy Weekend Everyone!!
Friday, November 15, 2013
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Say Cheese! - 11/13 & 11/14
I didn't forget!! I just got so busy yesterday that I couldn't post a picture. But I did stay on track with points for the day and I DID take a picture. So here's two.
11/13
11/14
Note to self: Thick horizontal stripes are no good. See you all tomorrow!!
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Daily Picture! 11/12/13
Today is all sorts of crazy at work but I made a promise to myself that I would post a picture of myself every day to keep myself accountable during this process. Hopefully one day I will get to show all the pictures to my little one and show him/her everything I accomplished to get pregnant.
Monday, November 11, 2013
11/11
Make a wish!
It's been awhile because I've beenso busy, stressed, go-go-go, crazy, overwhelmed not holding myself accountable. It happens so quickly. We lose sight of our goals so easily. But here I am. Today. This is me trying so very hard.
Personal training at my current gym turned out to not be a success. Mostly because of cost. The cost is just too much right now but after the holidays Tom and I are going to fit it into the budget. Because it's important, just like paying the mortgage and student loans and everything else that we do without thinking.
I hope everyone is having a lovely and productive Monday!
It's been awhile because I've been
Personal training at my current gym turned out to not be a success. Mostly because of cost. The cost is just too much right now but after the holidays Tom and I are going to fit it into the budget. Because it's important, just like paying the mortgage and student loans and everything else that we do without thinking.
I hope everyone is having a lovely and productive Monday!
Friday, September 20, 2013
My Life In Pictures
Life has been crazy busy lately. I was studying for a certification (passed with flying colors- yay me!!), work has been kicking my butt, and the joyful hormonal ups and downs of Clomid have been making my head spin. Whew. But there have been good things, too!! And here's proof!
Football started (and my Fantasy team, Multiple Scorgasms, is amazing!!)
I treated myself to some Sephora lovin':
Had quite a few delicious libations:
Discovered the wizarding world of Harry Potter:
I even made collages of my favorite photos:
Best of all, I've managed to lose 14 lbs!! Still a long road ahead but I'm making progress:
Happy Friday!!
Monday, September 9, 2013
The Trouble With Getting Left Behind
When I was younger, I was always afraid of being last. I lived in perpetually terror of being the last one picked in gym class, the last girl to get a troll doll (looking back, I just don't get that trend), the last friend who could stay home alone. It was okay if I wasn't first as long as I wasn't last.
The fear died down as I made my way through elementary and middle school and then returned in high school as a whole new set of worries overcame me. I didn't want to be the last one to get a first kiss, to get a boyfriend, to lose my virginity. There was something so lonely about the thought of being the only one who hadn't been "in" on the experience. One by one, my friends were becoming privy to knowledge that I was still waiting for.
What did it feel like to be kissed? What was the anticipation like? The bubbles in the belly when a boy asked you to be his girlfriend - what did the bubbles feel like? Was it scary? Intense? No big deal? People can describe their experiences all they want but it does nothing to quell the curiosity in your own mind.
I feel like I'm struggling with that feeling more now than ever before as I navigate the waters of infertility. It can be such a lonely boat to sail on. I know about pregnancy only from stories. I know about being a mother only from my imagination, and my dreams. As there are more announcements, my joy for my friends grows, but the sadness for myself increases.
What if I never know what it's like to see a positive test? Or go to an ultrasound and see an image of a baby that Tom and I created? Or feeling movement inside my belly? Or giving birth? Every negative test I get, I feel further away from that reality.
The fear died down as I made my way through elementary and middle school and then returned in high school as a whole new set of worries overcame me. I didn't want to be the last one to get a first kiss, to get a boyfriend, to lose my virginity. There was something so lonely about the thought of being the only one who hadn't been "in" on the experience. One by one, my friends were becoming privy to knowledge that I was still waiting for.
What did it feel like to be kissed? What was the anticipation like? The bubbles in the belly when a boy asked you to be his girlfriend - what did the bubbles feel like? Was it scary? Intense? No big deal? People can describe their experiences all they want but it does nothing to quell the curiosity in your own mind.
I feel like I'm struggling with that feeling more now than ever before as I navigate the waters of infertility. It can be such a lonely boat to sail on. I know about pregnancy only from stories. I know about being a mother only from my imagination, and my dreams. As there are more announcements, my joy for my friends grows, but the sadness for myself increases.
What if I never know what it's like to see a positive test? Or go to an ultrasound and see an image of a baby that Tom and I created? Or feeling movement inside my belly? Or giving birth? Every negative test I get, I feel further away from that reality.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Weekly Goals - Week of 8/5/13
Ahhhhh good old accountability.
If I put my goals for the week in writing, then you lovely people will be anxiously awaiting my status updates. And I can't disappoint. So here are my goals for the week:
Physical Health
1) Stay within my Weight Watchers Points range for each day
2) Go to the gym three times this week
3) Eat a fruit or vegetable with every meal
4) Begin C25K Program
Emotional Health
1) Set aside 30 minutes each day for meditation
2) Complete one act of charity
General Goals
1) Paint and install foyer closet door
2) Finish Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
3) Pick out a paint color for the foyer!
Stay tuned for updates!
If I put my goals for the week in writing, then you lovely people will be anxiously awaiting my status updates. And I can't disappoint. So here are my goals for the week:
Physical Health
1) Stay within my Weight Watchers Points range for each day
2) Go to the gym three times this week
3) Eat a fruit or vegetable with every meal
4) Begin C25K Program
Emotional Health
1) Set aside 30 minutes each day for meditation
2) Complete one act of charity
General Goals
1) Paint and install foyer closet door
2) Finish Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
3) Pick out a paint color for the foyer!
Stay tuned for updates!
Sunday, August 4, 2013
The Missing
There are so many things I'm afraid of. Of course I'm afraid of never being a mother. That's a given; hell, that's what this whole blog is about. But that's not what keeps me up at night. The little things keep me up. The intrinsic details of what being a mother is. I miss them already, in anticipation of the worst coming true.
The feeling of my child stirring within me. The anticipation. Hearing a heartbeat. The excitement on my husband's face. The birth.
Bringing a new Valentine home from the hospital. Watching Tom become a father in front of me. Seeing things for the first time through a child's eyes. Hearing new laughter. Being a family.
I mourn for these things already. It's a defense mechanism. Just in case. I want to get over the devastation before the devastation takes place. But with every passing month my heart breaks a little more. Every announcement I hear. Every birth that takes place. Families becoming complete all around me.
I wear these fears like a badge that no one can see. No one except for the women who are also going through it. We nod at each other in observance of these wounds we're carrying. Holding hands wordlessly, kindred in the things we are missing.
The feeling of my child stirring within me. The anticipation. Hearing a heartbeat. The excitement on my husband's face. The birth.
Bringing a new Valentine home from the hospital. Watching Tom become a father in front of me. Seeing things for the first time through a child's eyes. Hearing new laughter. Being a family.
I mourn for these things already. It's a defense mechanism. Just in case. I want to get over the devastation before the devastation takes place. But with every passing month my heart breaks a little more. Every announcement I hear. Every birth that takes place. Families becoming complete all around me.
I wear these fears like a badge that no one can see. No one except for the women who are also going through it. We nod at each other in observance of these wounds we're carrying. Holding hands wordlessly, kindred in the things we are missing.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Hunger Pains
I woke up in the middle of the night Sunday starving.
I had eaten my Points for the day. I was not hungry when I went upstairs to bed. Somehow I woke up ravenous. I contemplated going downstairs to the fridge for some sort of 2 AM snack but my accountability (and fear of monsters) kept me in bed.
Instead, I tried to reflect on how I've gotten here. To this point. The point where I need to lose a significant amount of weight before my doctor will take the next step in Infertility Treatment (yes, those words are worthy of capitalization). The more thoughts tumbled through my head, the sharper the hunger pain in my stomach was. Ahhhhhh, I thought to myself, emotional eating. The oldest trick in the book. The excuse on the lips of every fat person. Could it be that this cliche reasoning has directly contributed to where I am today?
My oldest memory relating to food is from when I was six years old. My parents were arguing and I was hiding in our pantry off the kitchen, eating Oreos one after the other until my stomach hurt. I don't know why. But I distinctly remember the same sort of hunger pain that I woke up with Sunday.
In high school I remember being rejected by the love of my fourteen year old life and going home and eating all of my mother's pistachio ice cream. I hid the carton underneath piles of trash. It made me so sick but the cold numbed my pain and broken adolescent heart.
Two months ago I was sure I was going to see a positive pregnancy test. When I didn't, I ate McDonald's chicken nuggets, a burger, and fries and then threw the evidence away in a dumpster by my house. I then ate what Tom cooked for dinner.
Those are just examples off the top of my head. I could go back in the Amanda vault and pull out some real doozies. There are always two constants: emotional distress and shame. Did I always feel this way, even when I was young? Was I always too afraid to voice my fears and hurt? I fear that the answer is yes.
I have always been the person who refuses food or accepts tiny portions in public; I fear eyes scrutinizing every little thing going in my mouth. I've always been a closet eater. Lately, it seems that I've been a closet binger. I know what people think. Just stop eating. Just don't. Eat when you're hungry; don't when you're not. I know all these things. It doesn't take away the hunger pains. The feeling of numbness that accompanies every bite. The beautiful moment of forgetting the pain or anxiety or disappointment.
I know this is an uphill battle. I know that I will struggle with this my entire life. It will always be easier for me to reach for food than analyzing my feelings. But I will do it. And one day when I have children (and I mean will not if) I will teach them how important it is to know the difference between hunger of the stomach and hunger of the heart.
I had eaten my Points for the day. I was not hungry when I went upstairs to bed. Somehow I woke up ravenous. I contemplated going downstairs to the fridge for some sort of 2 AM snack but my accountability (and fear of monsters) kept me in bed.
Instead, I tried to reflect on how I've gotten here. To this point. The point where I need to lose a significant amount of weight before my doctor will take the next step in Infertility Treatment (yes, those words are worthy of capitalization). The more thoughts tumbled through my head, the sharper the hunger pain in my stomach was. Ahhhhhh, I thought to myself, emotional eating. The oldest trick in the book. The excuse on the lips of every fat person. Could it be that this cliche reasoning has directly contributed to where I am today?
My oldest memory relating to food is from when I was six years old. My parents were arguing and I was hiding in our pantry off the kitchen, eating Oreos one after the other until my stomach hurt. I don't know why. But I distinctly remember the same sort of hunger pain that I woke up with Sunday.
In high school I remember being rejected by the love of my fourteen year old life and going home and eating all of my mother's pistachio ice cream. I hid the carton underneath piles of trash. It made me so sick but the cold numbed my pain and broken adolescent heart.
Two months ago I was sure I was going to see a positive pregnancy test. When I didn't, I ate McDonald's chicken nuggets, a burger, and fries and then threw the evidence away in a dumpster by my house. I then ate what Tom cooked for dinner.
Those are just examples off the top of my head. I could go back in the Amanda vault and pull out some real doozies. There are always two constants: emotional distress and shame. Did I always feel this way, even when I was young? Was I always too afraid to voice my fears and hurt? I fear that the answer is yes.
I have always been the person who refuses food or accepts tiny portions in public; I fear eyes scrutinizing every little thing going in my mouth. I've always been a closet eater. Lately, it seems that I've been a closet binger. I know what people think. Just stop eating. Just don't. Eat when you're hungry; don't when you're not. I know all these things. It doesn't take away the hunger pains. The feeling of numbness that accompanies every bite. The beautiful moment of forgetting the pain or anxiety or disappointment.
I know this is an uphill battle. I know that I will struggle with this my entire life. It will always be easier for me to reach for food than analyzing my feelings. But I will do it. And one day when I have children (and I mean will not if) I will teach them how important it is to know the difference between hunger of the stomach and hunger of the heart.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Why Now??
I've been asking myself that question all afternoon. Why now? What is different about this time? I guess I should start at the beginning for all the legions of people reading who haven't always known me.
In my 30 years of life, I have always been at least a little overweight. Chubby thighs and roly poly tummies are cute when you are three, but not when you add a "0" after that 3.
Chunky legs are only okay when you are small enough to get picked up.
I was always self conscious about my weight. There are only so many compliments you can get on your "pretty face" before you wish that everyone would shut their pretty faces up. As I got older, my weight slowly rose, but so did my confidence. I began to separate between looks and personality. I met my husband, who always has made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
I've gone on pilgrimages to find the elusive size 6 many times. Many, many times. Sometimes on a whim. Sometimes meticulously planned. I've even had success. But it never lasted. I always regressed and abandoned the search for skinny. I've been pretty consistent with the start and stop of the next great diet. Things didn't start to change until Tom and I decided that we wanted to start a family.
By the time I was in my mid-twenties I was only getting my period three to four times a year but I never thought much about it. I actually felt pretty lucky that I didn't have to deal with all the bitching and whining and bloating. When Tom and I started getting googly eyes every time we saw babies, we quickly got aboard the TTC (Trying to Conceive) train. Toot! Toot! I thought it would be fun and we would be registering at Babies R Us in no time.
A few months later - no positive test. That was fine. I knew it could take a healthy couple a year to conceive. But the fact that I wasn't getting my period could only mean that I wasn't ovulating. I made an appointment with my doctor and went in to see her.
After the usual fun convo and exam, I started telling my doctor about trying for a family and my irregular periods. She suggested bloodwork and an ultrasound. Results came in. PCOS.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
In really basic terms, PCOS (PolyCystic Ovarian Syndrome) is a hormone disorder that makes my ovaries all pissed off and nothing happens. No ovulation = no behbeh. After a little more testing, I was referred to a RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist). We discussed our options. We're trying Clomid. We also agreed that I need to drop fifty pounds before we try further treatment, including IUI or IVF if needed.
So that is the answer to Why Now? Because my husband and I want babies more than anything and I have to get healthier to make it a reality. Why now? Because when I do have babies, I want to be ready to show them the world. Why now? Because it's time.
So here I am now. This is my starting point. I hope you join me in my journey.
In my 30 years of life, I have always been at least a little overweight. Chubby thighs and roly poly tummies are cute when you are three, but not when you add a "0" after that 3.
Chunky legs are only okay when you are small enough to get picked up.
I was always self conscious about my weight. There are only so many compliments you can get on your "pretty face" before you wish that everyone would shut their pretty faces up. As I got older, my weight slowly rose, but so did my confidence. I began to separate between looks and personality. I met my husband, who always has made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
I've gone on pilgrimages to find the elusive size 6 many times. Many, many times. Sometimes on a whim. Sometimes meticulously planned. I've even had success. But it never lasted. I always regressed and abandoned the search for skinny. I've been pretty consistent with the start and stop of the next great diet. Things didn't start to change until Tom and I decided that we wanted to start a family.
By the time I was in my mid-twenties I was only getting my period three to four times a year but I never thought much about it. I actually felt pretty lucky that I didn't have to deal with all the bitching and whining and bloating. When Tom and I started getting googly eyes every time we saw babies, we quickly got aboard the TTC (Trying to Conceive) train. Toot! Toot! I thought it would be fun and we would be registering at Babies R Us in no time.
A few months later - no positive test. That was fine. I knew it could take a healthy couple a year to conceive. But the fact that I wasn't getting my period could only mean that I wasn't ovulating. I made an appointment with my doctor and went in to see her.
After the usual fun convo and exam, I started telling my doctor about trying for a family and my irregular periods. She suggested bloodwork and an ultrasound. Results came in. PCOS.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
In really basic terms, PCOS (PolyCystic Ovarian Syndrome) is a hormone disorder that makes my ovaries all pissed off and nothing happens. No ovulation = no behbeh. After a little more testing, I was referred to a RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist). We discussed our options. We're trying Clomid. We also agreed that I need to drop fifty pounds before we try further treatment, including IUI or IVF if needed.
So that is the answer to Why Now? Because my husband and I want babies more than anything and I have to get healthier to make it a reality. Why now? Because when I do have babies, I want to be ready to show them the world. Why now? Because it's time.
So here I am now. This is my starting point. I hope you join me in my journey.
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