As you know, I’m traveling in Boston right now, so many apologies that my blog hasn’t been as diligently updated this week. Along with reveling in the absolutely gorgeous weather we’ve been having here this week (hello global warming, pleasure to meet you), I’ve also been helping my MIL prep for my SIL’s wedding shower which is today.
I’ve also been busy eating here. A lot. And by a lot, I mean: Dunkin Donuts French Vanilla with Cream and Sugar every morning, honey soy marinated chicken, jasmine rice, and chicken sausage, calamari, Spanish sole with shellfish in a cream sauce, grilled cheese on rye, white wine, red wine, bloody Mary’s, a huge plate of amazing Brazilian Food with fried plantains, yummy spicy green curry and egg rolls, muffins, peanut butter Oreo ice cream from J.P.Licks, and five slices of pizza. And that’s just Boston. I can’t even begin to explain the food damage I did in New York.
In the last few weeks, I have gained what I like to call the Fertility 15. I wish it was an exaggeration, but I’m afraid it’s not. I know it won’t make the diet any easier when I get back…but I needed to go out in a carb induced bang before entering the land of vegetables and almond butter with Intuitive Health Lady.
The truth is, I needed this food. Food has been connecting me with friends and family this trip, and frankly, it has been good for my heart and soul. I am just kicking back, and enjoying it. I am refusing to worry about my flabby arms and tummy pooch.
For many reasons, my favorite food splurge this week was my J.P. Licks Peanut Butter Oreo ice cream. I mean, SHIT. What genius combined those flavors? Not only did it taste out of this world, I ate it while spending time with a dear friend who I hadn’t seen in about 4 years. This friend is warm, caring, absolutely smart as a whip, and gives the best hugs in the world. No joke. She should start a hug business. She is also one of the only women in the world I can talk to about what I’m going through, and know that she can truly relate to how I feel. More on that in a bit.
We have known each other since high school, long before any of the fertility nonsense started and we were just two kids sharing the ups and downs of being sixteen. Emotions always run high during those years, but she and I never had any drama. We blended well: Her sharp wit and dry sarcasm with a dash of Ani DiFranco combined nicely with my flittery kookiness and Eddie Vedder obsession. I remember one time she told me that mac and cheese should be eaten with a spoon, not a fork. It’s one of those concepts I thought was so awesome, it has stuck with me 15 years later.
We both grew up in Los Angeles, and then coincidentally both decided to move across the country to go to the same college in Boston. During my last year there, we were roommates. I was dating a guy pretty seriously at the time and was not home that often, but when I was, (usually because he and I were fighting and I was depressed), she would be there to cheer me up. She made this amazing chicken dish once, and as she was cooking it, she placed the spoon on one of those spoon rests so she didn’t get the counter dirty. I thought that was an amazing concept. Why I have such vivid spoon memories of this friend, I do not know.
Anyhow–about 8 or 9 months ago, I heard through a mutual friend that she too was struggling with PCOS, and was dealing with all of the awful effects of TTC while dealing with the disease. We hadn’t spoken to each other in years, but I sent her a brain dump sort of email where I spilled all of my fears about TTC with PCOS. After I sent it, I started getting nervous that I wouldn’t hear from her, or that I came off too crazy and desperate. But she emailed back. That email was a port in the storm. She and I chatted over the phone about our struggles a bit. She even let me know she was keeping a blog about it, which in retrospect was amazingly generous of her, knowing how hard it is to open up the blog to friends IRL. I followed along her journey, and her writing was incredibly inspiring. So inspiring that I started this blog.
I call her something else IRL, but here in Blogland, her name is Her Royal Fabulousness.
She is, in fact, fabulous. And she still lives in Boston!
We sat out in the Boston sun a couple of days ago, ate our J.P. Licks, and talked a lot about our struggles with fertility (that’s her on the left!). It is beyond amazing to have her here for me on our journey. I am so thankful to you, HRF!
We are still struggling, but we will beat this thing. Just you wait.