So there is this woman at work who is remarkably judgmental about people taking leave. Vocally, eye-rolling-ly judgmental. The other day she had to justify the leave that she needs to take now, then at Christmas, then to get married, and then later on to take a delayed honeymoon. I felt bad listening to the run around she was being given, yet thought to myself, now you see how you make everyone else feel.

I’d put money on the fact that the irony didn’t even occur to her.


The other evening @edenland posted on Twitter: I dare everyone on twitter to tell the truth. I’ll begin: I’m wracked with doubt, can’t get a job, parenting can bite me. Go.

My response was this: I have an alter ego because I can’t say what I want as myself. And I stay up late at night hoping morning takes longer to get here

I watched the stream of responses for a while. It is interesting to me how people put on twitter what they won’t or can’t say in real life – do real life people not follow them there? Maybe I am just too worried? conservative? shy? scared? to say things as myself. But that is why I have this little corner. So some of my other secrets for today?

I am sad so very much of the time and I shouldn’t be. I know I am lucky, very much so more than many, but I can’t shake sad.

I stare at my computer sometimes just waiting for something to happen. To get an unexpected message that makes my day, or blinding inspiration, or words of praise. It usually doesn’t happen.

I hate my job. I hate even more that I don’t have the courage to go and do what I want.

I procrastinate. Really really badly.

I carry regret badly, I know damn well that you can’t go back and change things yet it doesn’t make me stop hoping. Maybe that is why I am so sad.

I am terrified of getting fat again. I eat healthy, I have occasional treats, I don’t do eating-disorder type things, but i think about it all the time. I was chubby for as long as I can remember, I can’t go back there.

I don’t remember most of my childhood before my teens and I’m not sure why. I remember the broken arm and getting yelled at at Disney world (mutually exclusive events). I remember a birthday party of a friend back before anyone kissed each other where we played spin the bottle and just giggled. I remember some bits and pieces of summer camp. I think I ‘remember’ fun times that I have seen in photos. But over all there is very little to grab on to. It would break my mother’s heart if she knew. It kind of breaks mine. Maybe it’s why I take so many photos.

What about you? Feel free to be anonymous here. Or not. Whatever.

Aug 202011

My cycles have stopped again. I am quite convinced that the herbs the naturopath put me on stuffed it up. I don’t even know what to do now.

I’ve all but given up and am back to late night Googling… late ovulation, long cycle, yoga for ovulation and anything else I can think of to maybe chance coming across anything new. There is nothing new.

Jul 282011

Here is the thing, I have never been thin – ever. Fit? kind of. Healthy? pretty much. But thin? never. Until now.

As women it is very acceptable to bitch and kid about being fat or having a muffin top, or demeurly drop our eyes in thanks when complimented that we have lost a few pounds. But it is poor taste to be proud of being thin unless you have been through some intensive program or orgainsed diet plan and/or are trying to win a competition having to do with said weight loss.

I call bullshit. Bull-shit. I want to walk around naked these days because I can see my hip bones and my almost there stomach muscles and my sexy shoulders. And I am wearing a 2. A fucking 2. A proper fitting 2, and sometimes a 0. And I am proud of it.

At just over 5 feet, 135 was not thin. It was thinner than my heaviest which I recon was close to 145 or 150, but still not thin. Clothes did not look as I wanted them to, they pulled instead of hanging. I had back fat. And a claim of ‘wide ribcage’ only gets you so far in excuses of why things don’t fit. Then I went off the pill and started doing power yoga and eating a bit less and the weight started to melt off.  10 pounds without really even trying and I was down to my wedding weight at 125, but with more lean muscle so even better. Then another 7 went and I saw 118. Unbelieveable. I attribute a lot of it to the pill, or more appropriately lack thereof – this is not medical advice, it is just what my body did. The other bit, I give credit to the work I put in at yoga and its ability to kick start my muscles and metabolism.

When we started to go to a natural fertility clinic, in addition to putting us on about 20-30 pills a day in supplements, the diet was slightly drastic – or seemed so at first. The essence is nothing white (rice, flour, dairy) but the biggie no sugar. When I explain what we don’t eat everyone says ‘but what can you eat, sounds like nothing’ while shoving chips and chocolate down their throats. Humm, how about natural non-processed food, duh.  Carbs are fine (thank god) but must be whole grain and balanced with protein. A little bit of dairy from goats and sheep is ok. Oil is completely fine provided it is olive or sesame or good nut. All sugar and sugar substitutes are out. We eat a lot of veggies.

My body always takes a while to react to anything but eventually with the new diet more weight slowly fell and all of a sudden I was at 111. People kept saying ‘oh you aren’t trying to loose more are you?’ in one breath while bitching about how difficult their diet is and chasing chocolate and chips with wine. But I wan’t trying to loose weight (I know, bitch). I was eating healthy food in order to GET PREGNANT or at least ovulate correctly, and it just so happened that my body decided that it didn’t have a ‘wide ribcage’ and ‘broad shoulders’ as a result.

I broke 110. And then I hovered at 108 for a while. When I saw 107.5 I giggled. I am still in a healthy BMI, albet at the bottom of the range, being thin is distracting me from not being able to get pregnant.

As of yet ovulation is still screwy and I am most certainly not pregnant. But I am proud of being thin. I can still grab a handful of stomach when I lean over and I eat constantly (small meals about 5 times a day) but I am proud of being thin. I look good in almost everything and I don’t mind looking in the mirror or seeing myself in photos for the first time in a couple of decades.   And I don’t care who knows it.


It is indifference, and usually I have it down pat when it comes to a very unfortunate person in my life. However tonight is not that night. Tonight I am writing a letter to a person for whom I alternate between utter disgust / loathing and complete indifference.

Due to a situation that has recently arisen I have to address an accusatory hurtful email sent to me nearly 2 years ago. Well I don’t have to but I need to in order to move on. I am sitting here and I feel like I have icewater running through my veins, seriously, it is physiologically a very odd sensation, I am freezing inside my body. Oh and also, think I may throw-up.

The real fun part, it’s a family member. Even better, after almost 2 years of no contact – the last of which was this atrocious email – he LEFT A COMMENT on my other blog the other day. Fucker.

I will get through it, I need to get it out. I hope it doesn’t give him a heart attack when he reads it, sort of.


I had a tubal patency test today. If you have ever had one you know what I mean by the sink comment. Apparently I have a challenging cervix.  Great. After 2 failed attempts and way too much digging around (sorry) by the doctor and technician (who were as nice as you can be in a crap uncomfortable situation) they managed to get the dye in.

The great news my tubes are all clear.

The news unfortunately was over-shadowed by the fact that I was in enormous pain for the next 48 hours.  It felt like someone had kicked me in stomach about a thousand times. Maybe those clear tubes are how the boxer got in there. Most likely something to do with my sensitive stomach and a few rogue air-bubbles from the test. That knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less.

I sat on the couch, laid on the couch, keeled on the floor, paced the kitchen, ate, didn’t eat, all in an attempt to not sob with pain while watching the Royal Wedding. Gave in to a naproxen that night and an advil the next day to help ease the pain.  It eventually faded and I am back to ‘normal’.

We’ve just been given the go-ahead to start trying. Lets hope that this has cleaned everything out and not put too much of a kink in this month’s cycle.

Mar 202011

Sometimes I just drop off the grid. I keep going about each day, working, cooking, laughing but I stop reaching out to anyone. It makes me think about them even more, and then makes me kind of sad, and sometimes I don’t know how to snap out of it. Being so far away from everyone I kind of just feel forgotten a lot.

Feb 032011

Why can’t I ovulate on the weekend for once? Any day during the week just makes for time to make the donuts sex rather than time to get out the chocolate sauce sex.

I miss chocolate.

Nov 252010

Unfortunately this has nothing to do with crazy outdoor sex, or animalistic positions or over-grown body hair in the slightest. It would be so much more pleasant if that was all we had to worry about these days.

The first year of no period and crazy hormonal crap I spent gooogling ‘ovulation regulation’ and PCOS and hormones and ‘fix me I’m broken’. For a while I started tracking things on my own based on Dr. Google. I was pretty well versed in what was going on once we went to a fertility doctor to see if we could learn more and hopefully fix the situation.

She didn’t even want to figure out what was wrong and tried to put me on Clomid immediately. She also tried to prescribe Metformen because my blood tests pointed to PCOS even though my glucose and insulin levels were fine. I ‘held out’ for about 8 months before finally trying Clomid back in the middle of this year. The first two months the dose was too low. The third month the shortness of breath kicked in and she kept telling me that the things that were happening to my body weren’t really happening. So I stopped – both Clomid and her.

I’ve decided I can’t deal with the traditional stuff anymore for now and that whole shortness of breath, that pretty much sealed the deal. So the other day we went to our first appointment at a natural fertility centre. Now my view is if I have to go through this, you’re in it with me Mr. W. The Dev is being supportive, but is not particularly happy about it.

The program is demanding. Massive diet changes to begin with. The basic explanation is stop eating crap. The slightly longer version is eat good stuff, all good stuff, all organic, and oh right, no sugar and not too much meat or dairy, carbs stay as long as they are whole grain – thank goodness. But that’s not all, and what is getting to him most is the enormous amounts of supplements, a whole shitload of tests, no trying for 3-4 months – so either condoms or abstinence – blah, oh and a crap load of money.

I think they take the money and grind it up into the supplements, they may as well. We’ve got all our eggs in one basket if you will. Here’s hoping something works.


Every once and a while things work out as they should.

Instead of the sale starting the day after a big purchase it starts the day before.

A late start means the traffic has cleared and the trip takes less time.

You get laid off the day you are planning on quitting so they pay you to leave a job you would have paid to get out of.

Yeah. That. 2 hours before a meeting that had been scheduled for weeks where I was planning on handing in my resignation. They couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t as shaken as the others (or at all for that matter). I tried to hide the smile. They would die if they knew how much money they could have saved. This is the most free I have felt in 3 years.

Sometimes it just works out.

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