Rumor mill

Just in case anyone is in doubt or has heard otherwise, I make this statement: I am Not pregnant! Thank you.
I am grateful for people wanting to be jubilent with me but unfortunately this roundness, this swelling of my midsection only denotes my love of cookies and lack of motivation/energy to burn them off after consumption.
Its not the mos enjoyable thing to have someone ask when you are due after struggling with TTC, cycle issues, and self-worth. But while you are angry at the situation its hard not to jump all over the person asking.

Which brings up a difficult dilema: how does a person change their perception of themselves when the people around them aren't willing to change their own filters? When you are trying to grow and evolve you need to have reflections that are accurate to help you see where you still need to improve. If you are surrounded with people who still see the old you, they are never going to help you become the new you.
I've been dealing with this growth process for several years and it always comes down to this problem. How do I change myself and be proud of my progress if no one else sees the change? Its hard. That's the only answer I have. So I still grow and change one day at a time and maybe they'll catch up someday.

(Just for fun, this is a picture of my fat-baby. Its a cookie!)    

So next time you want to ask a lady when she's due, don't. Just say hi and tell her she's beautiful. She'll appreciate it whether she's having a baby or not.

The Mirror part 2

At some point in every Girls life we go through a period of loathing with the mirror. The sad thing is that our society encourages this loathing because it sells diet pills, fad diet plans, and as seen on tv equipment. It is a battle that I will fight for myself and my daughters some day. I don't enjoy this loathing but it is a reality most days. Staring at my face and picking at the wrinkles (yes at 24 I have wrinkles), the dark circles, the zits, the blotches, the pores, and all the imperfections and I make the only noise I can use to describe how I feel: harrumph! Catching a side glimpse in the mirror and being painfully aware of the weight I've gained, all I can do is wince. "How can that be me?" is the immediate and resounding alarm in my head. I try to remember what I looked like 70 pounds ago, when I could have passed for Jack Skellington, and the phenomenon is that all I remember is the same loathing. I don't remember what it was I hated or what made me upset, but I remember the emotion being identical. 

So that poses a question: How do you change what you see if you've already been both extremes? It is totally an attitude thing, but where are all the healthy minded individuals we are supposed to emulate? How can we end this cycle of hatred and self-deprecation without adding to our already self-obsessed and vain society? What else is there to do if changing circumstances doesn't change the problem? Where are all the women who are willing to stand up and show us how to do it right? And why are men SO fricking silent about this? Sure, a lot of men are pigs and just want boobs and butt and model figures. But I know men who think that is repulsive and who genuinely delight in their woman's figure. I have heard them say this out loud, in front of other men and women, and not even blink funny. But yet when the question is posed to them "How do I look, Honey?" Their faces instantly change to the face of a man about to utter his last words. Guys: Grow some balls! Yes if you say a girl looks bad in an outfit she is going to become upset. DUH! If a girl says something that emasculates you, you have a bad reaction too! But we ask because we want to know. We really don't want to be walking around thinking that we look awesome and find out later that my butt really did look ENORMOUS in those pants. Now I have also heard guys say that confidence is what makes a woman beautiful and attractive, right guys? Well guess what inspires confidence? YOU! Even as a friend, if you notice a woman and she looks lovely (if she inspires feelings you should not be having, capture those thoughts and make them obedient to Christ, then tell her that she might want to cover up a little) TELL HER SHE LOOKS GOOD! We need to hear it! We tell each other all the time, but that is different. We are desperate to hear something from someone so we compliment another girl which forces her to say something nice in return whether she means it or not. Yes that is really how it works. I have just shared a sacred women's secret and will probably be scorned for it. (Sorry Ladies, but they need to know this stuff) So guys: be men and tell us you like what you see!

While I would like to blame the men for all of the issues we women have, because its just easier when it's not your fault, I can't. They can certainly contribute from time to time, but they are not the root of the problem. The problem is that we have never been SHOWN how to love ourselves. We are told that if we love ourselves we are vain but if we hate ourselves we need therapy. We are told that we must earn the right to to love ourselves or look in the mirror with satisfaction. To earn these positive points we have to eat well, be a saint around everyone without exception, be caring, flexible, kind, sweet, hospitable, inviting, and warm to anyone we might come in contact with. Basically we demand of ourselves that we be Betty Crocker, Martha Stewart, June Cleaver, Mother Teresa, Gandhi, and Jackie O with a heaping dose of Marilyn Monroe in the bedroom to help keep our husbands happy. And if all these demands aren't met we get to stare in the mirror and tell us how awful we were today or yesterday and how we have to make up for it now. No wonder we can't keep up. Not even the people we are supposed to be could keep up! (Look at each one of their stories if you don't believe me. Even the TV perfect mom was a bit lacking. A son named Beaver? good one mom!)

So if fictional and non-fictional women can't uphold the universal standard for women, then who can? If it's an unattainable goal, how do we change it?

I wish I had an answer! Every time I look in a mirror my wish for an answer becomes more desperate and my emotional reaction becomes more confounding.   

I guess for now I will wait for an epiphany (anyone seen the movie Hook? yeah I almost typed apostrophe) to strike my brain and reconcile me with my reflection.

till then,

One day at a time

The Mirror part 1

A thin pane of smoldering hate. A portrait that never matches memory. A ledger of events, people, places, and sins long past. A conversation with a dear friend. A memory shared from another's perspective. A heated argument. A word spoken in haste. A backhanded compliment. A staring contest you will always lose. An intervention. An introspection. A Portal to obscurity. Unlucky if broken but often intolerable whole. Dangerously Demanding. Most often misleading. Coldest companion, Who is the fairest of them all?

The Unexpected

Sometimes things surprise us. That is just the way it goes. We are told growing up that we should try and avoid certain surprises by saving up, eating right, and being cautious. Those are all good things to do in most circumstances, but sometimes you have to do things because you don't know the outcome. Moving to a place you don't know much about would fall in the category of reckless in most minds. I think in my mind it falls in that category as well, but its something that we are doing and I'm super excited about it. While visiting our new place I expected that I'd feel terrible and take some real time to adjust to the new weather and climate. Most travelling I do takes one whole day of uselessness followed by a slow day of minor activity and rest. While I was on a bit of a high (and adrenaline always helps with rough days) what I didn't expect was exactly what happened: I felt almost normal. I took almost no pain killers to balance my day (just one pill for a genuine headache), only required 9 hours of sleep to feel rested (versus a normal 11 to noon to even feel close to human), and stayed fairly mood-swing free (at least I thought so...if it is not so family...leave me my bliss for a little while longer). I was a happy, adjusted, mellow individual. I even felt the urge to go for a long walk...because I had the energy! There was no restless drive pushing me, no sluggish feeling to shake; it was amazing. For the record, I have never felt that close to normal since my symptoms started. Never. If you find that hard to believe, I'm sorry you have such a limited scope of thought.

While all of this wonderful unexpected was occurring, I was also headed straight for a not so wonderful side of the unexpected.
Once we returned home my health took a nose-dive. I missed three days of work (not sequentially) within a week of being home and began my period two weeks early...for the third time in 5 months. Along with the fear and crashing hope, this time pain came. While pain is a constant companion for me, this pain had an uglier face. It was sharp, sudden, hot, and unpredictable. Terrified, I ran to the Doctor. Miserably, I poured out my story again and the Doc listened sympathetically. However she did not panic in the least (which was helpful but also irritating at the time.) and she calmly explained that this is just a hiccup. What I wanted to say was: " A HICCUP?!?! Come on Doc! I'm like the weirdest thing ever, right?" but I did not. I wanted something to be actually wrong. (I know that is weird, but bear with me.) It was so nerve wracking to have yet another thing obviously out of sync, but nothing wrong; to have another thing I can't totally explain but that is unavoidable and almost un-treatable. I was desperate for this Doctor to pull a magic, ten-syllable, word-of-impending doom type thing out of her medical dictionary and then have an equally long but easily broken down fix ready in the wings. I wanted it to be the flu, but for your uterus. (Yeah, that sounded way better in my head but I couldn't fix it. Besides, this is my blog.) When the blood and pee tests came back normal and my physical exam was also normal, the doc repeated her hiccup theory. (In medical terms she said it was probably an inovulatory cycle. Google it) I was a little weary to leave it at that, so she kindly got me in to have a pelvic ultrasound, which came back normal. I was reassured and I can reassure you, reader, that I would rather I NEVER did that again! BLEGCH!!! The tech was really nice, very calming, and very gentle. That didn't really take away from what the procedure is, or the fact that it was being done while the full curse of eve was blaring in my innards. (Again with the googling if you really want to know). At the end of the appointment I asked the looming question: Is there anything we can do that will help getting pregnant go more smoothly? The answer was no. NOT the answer I wanted to hear.
With some attitude adjustment and some tears I reconciled myself to the fact that it was a long road ahead and before I could worry about a tiny life inside me, I needed to worry about the vessel intended to carry said life. I needed to get me in shape (well closer than I am) and ready to handle life around me first before I added the stress of trying to essentially grow a life as well. Final decision between me and the doc was to go on a different birth control for three months to smooth out and regulate my cycle (read: kick the lazy ovary into gear) and to try and lose about 30 pounds. The pills...well suck. Mood swings galore (we are talking giggles and sunshine to hurricane kayla in 90 seconds or less), increased appetite, and bloating. Yuck! The last two symptoms are not exactly encouraging in a weight loss situation and the first tends to cause obsessive eating of chocolate or gummy related items. Needless to say, the weight loss thing is....slow...and or non-existent. That unexpected energy I had during our trip? Gone. The discipline I had to track my cycle symptoms, temperature, ovulation days, etc? Poof! (I am remembering to take my pill at the same time daily though. Truly a small miracle)
So now each day I prod myself out of bed to go to work, and motivate myself to finish with the thought of how close we are to a clean slate and a new life. At the moment, that is the best I can do.

So in every turn, expected or not, I just tell myself

One day at a time....

(ps it doesn't always help...but I still say it)