How to Really Freak Me Out

April 22, 2011 at 3:46 pm (Baby on the Brain) (, , )

Write an article about how hard it is, despite all those Hollywood stars and media people saying otherwise, to get pregnant after 35…makes me want to quit before I even get started.

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What’s Different?

February 15, 2011 at 2:25 pm (Healthy...?) (, , , , , )

I stopped working out in November. I’d worked out consistently, at least 5 times a week, from July til then. I had muscles. Definition. A hint of a waist instead of straight down from my breasts to my hips. I liked the way I was looking. So did my girlfriend. So what happened? I got sick. Not working out became my evening habit instead of turning on the DVD and sweating for an hour. I also stopped writing down my calorie intake and when I didn’t immediately start gaining the weight back I thought it was all good. Fooled myself into believing I could still maintain my weight loss.

HAH! SO NOT! I gained 6 pounds from Thanksgiving to New Year’s. I tried to rationalize it but my scale doesn’t lie. It’s cruel and unyielding and tells me my body fat percentage has been creeping up in the past 6 weeks. Oh how I loathe stepping onto that thing in the morning. I even go so far as to think “skinny” thoughts and expel all my breath before allowing my feet to touch the offending and all-too-damaging-to-my-self-esteem piece of molded plastic. So while the actual weight gain hasn’t been horrendous, I’m losing muscle along with my turn back into a sloth.

And I’m thinking that my journey back to couch potato status has not gone unnoticed by my hormones. I barely had a period last month and this past week, when I should be experiencing things like huge boobs and weird cramps and general moodiness? Maybe some cramps. But not much else. So now I’m worried enough to start writing down my calorie intake and limiting the number of lemon bars making their way past my lips. I’ve been making an effort to eat healthier dinners (I worked last Thursday, Friday & Saturday so I know my diet sucked then. I also went out to dinner with friends Saturday night and didn’t eat well). New leaf, I tell you!

I’ve got to get back into the shape I was in 4 months ago. I bought new pants that I just got back from the tailor. I have nicer clothes than I’ve had in years waiting to be worn but I can’t seem to get my fatty arms into sleeves that fit not so long ago. And my shape was so…intriguing to my girlfriend. Yeah, definitely gotta make some changes around here.

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Second Class Citizen

December 28, 2010 at 12:35 am (Baby on the Brain, TGF) (, , , , , , )

There’s nothing like a little discrimination to make you feel, well, downright shitty. I’ve spent the last few days in a funk, trying to figure out how I’ve lived this long and never really had anyone make me feel like this. I’ve been an out lesbian for over 15 years. I’ve been in a committed relationship for 10 of those years. I’m open and very vocal about who I am and what I am. So here I sit, utterly powerless, all because my partner’s company won’t extend benefits to me as her domestic partner. And according to my insurance agent and her legal counsel, it’s all legal, even in the state of California.

Because although we have a law that says companies must extend equal benefits to domestic partners as they do spouses, it doesn’t apply when the employees are partially funding their coverage. Fucking loopholes. This, my friends, is discrimination. And why I give a big “fuck you” to those asshats who say that domestic partnership is the same as marriage. If I’d gotten married when it was legal in California, would I be having this problem now? I don’t know. I’d probably be having a different problem, since my partner’s company is based in another state and they wouldn’t recognize our marriage anyway.

I’ve been lucky in that this has never been an issue before. But I think in a way it hurts more now. We have a plan, dammit! This was supposed to be the year we started making babies. Like, soon. And now if I switch to individual insurance, not only is it going to be ridiculously expensive (try anywhere from $280/month to $610/month) for me, it’s nearly impossible to cover prenatal care if I get pregnant within 6 months of my enrollment date. I can’t get pregnant until June BECAUSE MY INSURANCE COMPANY SAYS SO. It’s so unfair. And nobody offers any sort of coverage for infertility. We already knew that was going to be expensive.

To top that all off, my girlfriend and I are 400 miles apart this week. I’m staying with my parents through the new year and she’s back at home, working. Phone calls are not as comforting as hugs. Feeling all alone because I haven’t even told my parents we want to have a baby is dumb, but I don’t want to get their hopes up. So yay, I get to be all clandestine when I’m reading the insurance information, scrolling through the pregnancy/maternity/post birth coverage stuff.

And now my partner feels really bad because her company sucks ass. I feel guilty because she has to pay for all of this. Could this suck any more right now? Oh wait, I could have PMS, too. Well, as luck would have it, I do. So I’m crying on the phone, I slept 16 hours last night, I’m eating everything in sight. FUUUUUCK. I know it’ll work out. In my head, I know this will work out. But for now, I’m going to feel sorry for myself and tuck my lonely, fat body into a cold, lonely bed.

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I’m a Grinch. There, I Said It.

December 25, 2010 at 6:09 am (TGF) (, , )

A little over a week ago my girlfriend found out that the friends she usually goes to visit for Christmas weren’t going to be home this year. Yes, they tend to be very last minute about things like this. Then again, so is my girlfriend. So she was trying to think of where to take her mother and brother for the holidays that was a drivable distance and had things for them to see and do. She decided to go to San Francisco on Christmas Eve day and stay through Monday. This was a good plan, except there are questions about where to eat for Christmas dinner, what to do during the day since most things are closed, etc. Her main goal was to make sure they were together for the holiday and hope that everything else fell into place.

I’m from the Bay Area, grew up about an hour south of San Francisco. Our family does a pretty traditional Christmas Eve with my extended family in Sacramento and then Christmas Day in the East Bay. And when I found out that my girlfriend and her family were going to be in the same area, I told her that I couldn’t spring them on my family with such short notice. I’m a horrible, horrible person. It’s not that I don’t want them to come to Christmas with my family. This Christmas just happens to be a very hard one, my cousin just had a lumpectomy and will be undergoing chemo soon. Her mother passed away over the summer. We usually go to my cousin’s house or one of her siblings’ houses for Christmas dinner. Imposing on their generosity felt wrong, given the stress they’re under. I know I could have asked, and I’m pretty sure they would have said yes. So why didn’t I? I kind of already feel like we’re invading their family time. To add 3 more people to the mix just didn’t seem fair.

Ugh. Guilt. Because I feel like I should have invited them regardless. They’re my family, too. I’m sorry they’re going to be alone on Christmas. In a strange city. That shouldn’t happen to anyone.

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A Minute to Talk About My Boobs

December 19, 2010 at 10:29 pm (Healthy...?, Randomness) (, , )

Ok, maybe more than a minute. In the past 3 or 4 months, I’ve noticed that my normally 34AAA cups increase in size right around the time I’m ovulating, making their presence known for a good week before resuming their regularly scheduled programming. They’re markedly bigger. Like, I might have to buy a different sized bra to wear when I’m ovulating bigger. This may not seem like a big deal to most people (or maybe it is, I don’t usually discuss my boobage with other people, you’re just lucky!) but for someone who’s always had a flat chest, the increased size is, well, totally bizarre.

I’ve had conversations with women who have bigger than average tatas and heard many of their complaints about bras, playing sports, people who talk to their chests, etc., and while I’m never going to have even average sized breasts, I’m beginning to realize what they’re talking about when they say that wearing sports bras and trying to run without crossing their arms over their chests is a bouncy, painful, I-may-lose-an-eyeball kind of experience. I can usually wear tank tops with a built in bra and not feel like everything’s hanging out. Not so with my hormonal boobs. I mean, I have cleavage. For real. EvenĀ confining them to a sports bra still gives me more of a chest than I’m used to. They’re, ahem, grabbable. Now that’s weird.

Only don’t grab them. Don’t touch them. They hurt. At least for the first day. 2nd and 3rd aren’t so bad. But that 1st day? I can’t even dry them off after my shower.

Thus concludes my post about my boobs. I’m sure there will be more.

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Hormonally Yours

November 21, 2010 at 7:36 pm (Baby on the Brain, TGF) (, , , , , , , )

I think that’s the name of an album from way back when by Shakespeare’s Sister. Good album. But that’s not what this post is about.

Backstory: I was never one to have a regular period. It would show up, sometimes it didn’t. Made for a few scares back when I was still sleeping with men. But that’s a whole other story.

Fast forward to July, I lost weight, my period came back. I started tracking it for real and my cycle went 33 days, 31 days, and the past few have been 29 days. I’m hopeful it’ll be more regular now but who knows? Watch, when we actually try to inseminate, I won’t have a period that month. I’m nothing if not obstinate.

BUT, the reason for the title of this post (and for this post at all) is that the past three months have seen the days leading up to, during, and after ovulatingĀ (and I think I’m ovulating because my BBT was 97.4 yesterday morning, which is .8 higher than my ‘normal’ 96.63) come with massive cramps, a migraine, and swollen and oh-my-god-don’t-let-the-wind-blow-on-them-they’re-so-sensitive breasts. They hurt when I take of my bra. They hurt when the water touches them in the shower. They hurt if I bend over. It’s unreal. My body is doing some strange things as it rewires systems that have been haywire because of my health and weight.

Oh, and moody, much? Seriously, I’m buying myself the “zero to bitch in 2.5 seconds” shirt. Short tempered, downright nasty. Is this supposed to happen when I’m ovulating? I’m used to PMS being right around the start of my period, not 2 whole weeks before! I feel so bad for my girlfriend, who, of course, gets the brunt of my moodswings. I’m normally pretty grouchy but this has been horrible.

Maybe I should go back on my beta-blocker. It made me so much more mellow and the added benefit of less painful migraines was great. Yes, it did seem to kill some of my braincells so my girlfriend made me stop taking it, but I was much more pleasant on it. I guess I can’t afford to lose that many brain cells. And the short term memory loss sucked, too.

I suppose I’ll have to remain a hormonal mass of moodiness for the time being. The influx of additional hormones when I get pregnant might make my girlfriend homicidal, though. I may have to invest in lots of massage appointments for her.

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