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Monthly Archives: July 2012

My future unborn child will cry it out.

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Ahhh! Nothing like a good three days in Santa Cruz with my uber fertile younger sister, BIL,  and “attachment parented” nephew to really make me want to light up my ovaries like grenades and cast them into a sea of ovulating hippies.

WARNING: If you are a firm believer in attachment parenting, you may find this entry offensive. After experiencing attachment parenting for three (long…verrrrrrrry long) days, I can firmly say that my child (should I be blessed enough to have one–or maybe, please God, two) will CRY IT THE FUCK OUT at night until he/she can sleep peacefully for 8 hours. The whole business of having every shit, whimper and gas pain tended to wherever and whenever is simply not part of the plan should I ever have kids. Infancy is one thing–a child under 3 months old should absolutely be tended to every last minute, but if they have teeth, are walking around, and can start naming your boob “Tee tee” or whatever, they are crying it out at night. Call me callous, un-maternal, un-enlightened, whatever…I just cannot see myself being happy having my life revolve in this way around my (future unborn) baby. I reserve all right to eat my words on this, by the way!

I have mentioned my sister on the blog before, but for new comers, or those who need a refresher, she was an opiate abuser, thrice daily pot smoker who got pregnant on her first try (while she was abusing drugs, mind you!), and is now living up in Santa Cruz totally healthy and “reformed”.  So, for those of us who fear that one fleck of gluten will somehow destroy our fertile window, just know that there is a woman out there whose uterine lining was prepped with THC, and easily implanted an egg.

My nephew is 15 months old and is being raised in the style of “attachment parenting”. This means that rather than push him in a stroller, he is more often than not, carried in one of those sarong wrap thingies around my sister or her husband. He also sleeps in their bed (still) and does not sleep through the night because he is used to waking at night for feedings whenever he needs. My sister will nurse him whenever he wants (this also means that she whipped her boob out several times in public, and in front of my father… Cringe).  I am 100% certain that I will never. Ever. whip my tit out in front of my father when I breast feed in front of him. Call me old fashioned, prude, whatever. It just will never happen.

By far, I was most disturbed by the fact that the baby still shares a bed with my sister and her husband. I don’t know if this is typical of attachment style parenting, but in my humble, infertile-as-all-hell opinion, this is craziness. After chatting with her a bit about what this is like, she revealed that she and her husband have not had sex more than once every FOUR MONTHS since the baby has been born. Partly because he is in the bed with them, and partly because she has lost all sex drive for her husband.

I don’t want to sound high and mighty–and God knows, I have absolutely no reason to be–but 4 months of no sex seems…fucked up?

As is the case with all styles of parenting, there are all sorts of examples that demonstrate that children who are raised with attachment style parenting are very well adjusted, kind, loving individuals. But at what expense? Does the bond between mother and baby trump that of husband and wife? At what point is the child told that he cannot come into the bedroom? And what does that do to the child who has never been told that his parent’s bed isn’t his bed too?

And then I think about how damn easy it was for my sister to get pregnant, and it just makes me depressed as all hell…because regardless of what style of parenting she chooses…she still gets the option to choose. And I get to twiddle my bum ovaries and start Clomid in a few weeks. Yes. I am starting Clomid.

UCSBitch Slap!

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In the last couple of months, Hubs has been under a gigantic mound of stress finishing and defending his dissertation all while attempting to get hired at a university and getting his ass rejected time and time again (50 resumes sent, one call back, no jobs. Horse shit.)

Just when he thought that he’d be eating bon bons and watching internet porn all day for this fall semester (if only we all could be so lucky), one of his former profs put him in touch with the kindly people at UC Santa Barbara. They had a visiting professor position open…and they just “happened” to think that Hubs would be perfect for the gig!

Hubs will be commuting to Santa Barbara two days a week in the fall AND spring quarters and PROFESSORING his ass off–two classes per quarter. I’m so damn proud of him. Plus it will give me an excuse to drive up the coast and visit this sinfully beautiful campus on a regular basis.

I mean seriously. Do people actually learn here, or do they just play in the ocean and drink mai tais?

Early Endocrinologist Appointment!

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On a whim, I called Dr. Fresh Eggs office today to see if he might have an appointment opening any earlier than October 3 (when I was scheduled to come in.) As it so happened, there was JUST a cancellation, and I’m now in to see him next Wednesday! Love good news like that.
My only conundrum right now is that I’ve started the pill again…do you think I should stop the pill until I can get some fresh blood work done without pill hormones skewing anything? How does it work with hormone testing if you’re on the pill? I have a feeling he’s probably going to want to do a bunch of tests. At the same time, I know that people use Provera to induce a period all of the time, and still take a Day 3 blood test. Anyone have any thoughts?

But, as they say, these are high class problems to have. I’m super excited to be meeting with him next week. He’s a top top TOP doctor in his field with a specialty in PCOS.

If anyone has any questions you’d like me to ask in regards to things you’ve always wondered about PCOS, please comment and I will do my darndest to include these questions on the list of about 547 things I want to ask him next week.

I suck at dieting

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My birthday “get out of cardboard tasting food” free day turned into a weekend. I tried as best I could to be “good” about eliminating wheat, dairy, caffeine, etc, but I was hungry, having fun, and just said fuck it. Belle, I’m sorry, but I sucked at this challenge this time around 😦

Here’s the problem(s)

1. I really like to eat wheat products sometimes. Giving them up entirely is completely daunting, and makes me really really sad.

2. I love caffeine, and really enjoy my morning coffee. This is the only time I have caffeine. Not drinking it makes me irritable and sad. I’m sure I could get over it eventually, but damnit, I love looking forward to it in the mornings.

3.When I set these strict guidelines for myself, I mentally abuse myself if I so much as taste some yogurt or cheese based products. This is not a fun way to live and also makes me sad.

Basically, what I’m discovering is that when I completely restrict myself, I end up falling off the wagon even worse than I do if I mentally say that I will allow myself to have a bagel occasionally. Rather than have a couple bites of bagel, I’ll eat 3 of them if I feel restricted. Then comes the remorse, which causes me to eat more bagels.

I hit a wall this weekend where I finally came to some sort of acceptance that changing my diet drastically will not fix everything. It is not the magic solution to my PCOS. If someone told me that I could cure my PCOS completely if I spent the next 2 years eating a strict elimination diet with no exceptions, I honestly don’t think I could do it. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to fix my PCOS badly enough, it just means that I have to think about my quality of life and value that as well. I did not start this journey in this place, but I’m here now. I need medication.

Hubs and I have been doing a lot better, and had a discussion this weekend about dipping our toes into “trying” again. I am going to start on my birth control, get a period, and then see if the BCP helps me to ovulate for the first month I’m off it (I ovulated the first month off BCP the last time). We will try to “catch” the ovulation next month. If that doesn’t happen, it’s back on BCP and then on to Clomid.

During this time, I will try to eat as much gluten free/wheat free/ dairy free/ caffeine free/ alcohol free things, but I will not beat myself up if I slip a bit.

As for the exercise, I am continuing to do this just about every day. The weight loss has been extremely slow, and mostly non-existent which leads me to believe that my metabolism is fucked, I’m getting older, or my insulin resistance is making it much more difficult to loose weight. I’m thinking of getting back on 1,000mg of Metformin just to see if it can help me with the stubborn belly fat that will not go away.

Thus concludes my Monday update!

Day of my birth = Diet Free Day

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Birthdays are one of those days where calories don’t count, and since I’m a whopping 32 years old today, I plan on taking full advantage of this amazing rule of life. Today, I eat anything I want. I’ll still be cautious of calories, but I’m really not going to worry about having sushi at dinner tonight. Hubs made a reservation at Yamashiro! It’s this fantastic place up in the Hollywood Hills with this view:

Squee!

Being a summer baby, my birthdays as a kid were always fraught with  anxiety that no one would show up to my party (this happened to me once on my 9th birthday. About 7 out of 10 of the people I invited to my party that year were on vacation and couldn’t attend, and the other 3 who were in town were boys and decided that they didn’t want to come if no one else was coming. I think I’m still in therapy from that one.) I always envied the kids who had birthdays during the school year who got cupcake parties. In my teens I got so fed up with being on summer break during my birthday that I swore up and down that I would purposely avoid getting pregnant in October or November, thus avoiding a July or August baby. Oh, naive Teen Sunny…if you only knew then that fifteen years later you’d basically be praying to go into labor in a crowded elevator on December 25th  if that’s what it took to pop one out….

Speaking of Teen Sunny, I’ve spoken a little bit about my diary writing in this forum, and how I sometimes perform in a show called Mortified here in LA (it’s a long running show that’s now in 7 or 8 different cities around the US. I basically go up on stage and read my most humiliating diary entries in front of complete strangers. There is a lot of laughter, and it makes me feel good.) I have been keeping diaries since I was six years old, and I had a pretty foul mouth even as a young kid, so my diary entries are often peppered with expletives. It’s kind of amusing. I have been thinking of a way I could do fun posts with my diary entries every once in a while and was inspired by Pregnancy 101 who posted some of her diary entries a little while ago. I’m still not sure what sort of regular weekly entry I could do with my diary entries.

Appropriately to this post, I generally write a “birthday” entry in my diaries. Some years I’ve skipped, but most years I write something. I thought I’d share a fun birthday entry from 1995… when gas was $1.09 a gallon, OJ Simpson was found innocent, and TLC’s “Waterfalls” was the #1 song that week.

So hit play, and take a trip down memory lane with me!

Side note: Jeremy was my next door neighbor (also my age) who I had an unhealthy/obsessive crush on for about 4 years. I used to sit out on my front lawn waiting for him to come out so I could try to talk to him. We had lots of awkward conversations together, but it was strictly platonic until one night when I was home from college on a summer break. We got high together and had awkward sex, and it completely cured me of any fantasy crush I ever had on him.

Other side note: Remember my “salad” analogy from my previous post? That was Stuart. Possibly one of the sweetest boys I knew growing up, and oh, how I trampled his genuinely loving heart (I tended to be drawn towards the boys who treated me like crap and made me pine for them–not nice ones like Stuart.) We went on a couple dates in high school, but I could never get into him. I forced myself to try again right before I left for college, and ended up further breaking his heart. I still feel bad about what a teenage twit I was with that.

This diary entry is verbatim. In re-reading it, I realize I sound completely frenzied and non-sequential. Yikes!

July 18th, 1995

This is my last entry as a 14 year old. Damn! I thought I’d never reach 15. Stuart called me today and we talked for about an hour. He asked me what I wanted for my birthday and I said flower seeds. He brought up the idea of cacti and I said that would be cool. He said he would like to give me some of his grandma’s since she passed away. Do I deserve this? I mean, he’s giving me part of his family here. He also invited me to The Cobalt and said, “I hope you can come because I miss you!” Like a fucking idiot I said, “Well, I guess that’s ditto for me!” Probably leading him down the road to all sorts of crazy ideas. Yes, Stuart hasn’t taken a subtle hint. I’m too shy to go for the direct approach but that might be what needs to be done. It’s very strange, but this whole summer I think I’ll only have seen Jeremy for approximately 2 1/2 weeks. Almost every day in August I’m going to be busy and some time in August he’s going out of town. I wish I had his address so I could write him even though that may sound corny to him. You know what? I’ve made up my mind. Who gives a fuck who thinks it’s corny, I’m going to do what I want. I have got to stop caring what everyone else might think. He’s coming home this Sunday so maybe I’ll see him soon. I’ve sort of forgotten what he looks like but hell. I DON”T CARE ANYMORE. I hope his sister’s nice. Will he want to talk now that his sister is home from college? WHO CARES?? Next time I write I’ll be 15.

 

Day #1 and Day #2 Diet, Pounding Caffeine Withdrawl Headache

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As many of my readers may have guessed by now….I’m just a girl who can’t say no to a challenge! So a couple of days ago, when I read that Belle was doing a 7 day diet detox, I had to jump in like the insane mad woman I am and attempt to get back on track with my Elimination Diet (the only diet to date that has inspired my wonky uterus to actually bleed–at least that’s my hypothesis since I got a period 4 weeks into the diet, and hadn’t bled for 8 months prior to the diet.) But I digress.

In those 4 weeks on the Elimination Diet, I felt great, and swore up and down that I would never go back to unhealthy eating again…And then I had a really shitty couple of months and Charlie Sheened my diet with booze, cigarettes, and copious amounts of cheese. Belle’s diet detox post was like a siren call… I had just polished off an entire box of Amy’s Mac and Cheese the day I read her post (perhaps this is why I’m gaining weight on Jenn’s fitness challenge I’m currently partaking in? Hmmmm). I took my blood glucose levels after the box of mac n cheese, and the results scared me. After 45 minutes, my blood sugar was at 149 which is pretty high–much higher than any levels I’ve ever tested at…like…prediabetic high…. Let’s just say I scared myself straight. Back to the diet it is.

Yesterday was my Day 1 of Elimination Diet Redux. I now remember why I told myself the LAST TIME I did the Elimination Diet why I would NEVER go back to unclean eating again: The freaking headache. Damn I hate the Elimination Diet Headache. It happens every time I decide to eliminate sugar and caffeine, but on the Elimination Diet I can’t soothe myself with buttery croissants or warm, flaky French bread.

Instead, last night I soothed myself with a salad.

Blah.

Salads are kind of like that really reeeeeallllly smart, nice guy who liked you in high school, who your mother told you would make the perfect husband and father some day, but he kind of creeped you out and annoyed you when he followed you around like a puppy dog and didn’t make you pine after him like that 19 year old college freshman who drove the light blue ’64 Mustang did did. You reallllly try to want the salad, but in the end, you end up losing your virginity one summer afternoon to the guy in the Mustang when his parents are at work.

I will neither confirm nor deny that this happened to me.

Day #1

I pushed through yesterday’s detox diet Day 1 with this craptastic–err–I mean–AMAZING AND DELICIOUS!–menu. I tend to eat at all hours of the day, little bits at a time, so I usually break my meals up into “morning, afternoon, and evenings” vs “breakfast, lunch and dinner”. Sometimes, my “meal” lasts a few hours as I pick at it at my desk.

Morning:

Red Raspberry Leaf Tea (tastes like raspberry flavored tree bark. Yick)

Green Vibrance drink with Pom juice (Belle described it once as tasting like the inside of a lawnmower. This is truly what it tastes like)

Shot of iron (tastes like blood mixed with raisin juice. YUCK!)

One large fillet of grilled salmon, one large red potato, 2 cups of grapes

Afternoon

4 slices of turkey, 1 plum, 1 cucumber with Annie’s dressing, 2 rice cakes with agave syrup

Tea

Evening

Big salad w/ chicken breast and vegetable soup.

Day #2

Has been more blah of the same.

Morning:

Quinoa rice cereal with agave

Spearmint Tea

Afternoon

2 cups grapes, one potato, one peach

Big steak salad.

Evening:

Still have no flippin clue what I’m doing for dinner, but it may involve lamb, hummus, and some stuffed grape leaves.

I went to Comicon…

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…and all I got was this lousy headache. And I gained another pound. Up almost 5 pounds since I started Insanity, yet my pants still fit. I am really perplexed about what is going on with my body right now. I’m praying it’s muscle mass, but I have no clue.

Sorry I’ve been remiss in posting the last few days. I was lost in a sea of nerd-dom at San Diego Comicon. I go every year for work. As much as I KNOW I need to appreciate the fact that my work pays for me to go to crazy comic book conventions, this was my 7th Comicon in a row, and as someone who does not generally freak over Game of Thrones or Buffy, walking around with a bunch of sweaty people (100,000+ of them) who do appreciate a Ned Stark sighting is really intense. Really. Intense.

But I’m back now, and ready to get back to blogging. Woot!

Along with Jenn at Future Fords pulling together a kick ass workout challenge, Belle at Scrambled Eggs has put together a 7 Day Detox Plan which I intend to join in on as well. I’m a sucker for these challenges, Ladies! I have slid pretty far off the wagon in terms of my Elimination Diet, and want to get back on track. I just had a great chat on the phone this afternoon with Her Royal Fabulousness about a plan of attack before I see my PCOS specialist in October (who I’m dubbing Dr. Fresh Eggs) and she suggested that I try the elimination diet again, and this time attempt temping as well to see how my body responds to the dietary changes (HRF is a wise woman.). Last time I went on the diet, I got my one and only period in 9 months, but I’m not sure if I ovulated or not.  This plan might give me some more ammo to bring to Dr. Fresh Eggs in October.

Aside from the 5 pound weight gain on Insanity, my workout program is going amazingly well (can’t wait to post before and after pics!). I seriously have never felt stronger in my life. My body is feeling like a well oiled machine, and I am drenched in sweat after every workout. Hubs and I are flexing a lot in front of each other which is amusing.

Tomorrow begins my new Elimination Diet (slightly modified to include some eggs every now and then and a few drinks here and there, as my birthday is coming up next week and we have a wedding to go to in August. I attempted my Elimination Diet during a wedding and ended up bored, sober, and eating a pack of trail mix the entire time, so I’m refusing to put myself through that again.)

Elimination Diet Basics:

No alcohol

No caffiene

No processed sugar (agave, molasses, and brown rice sugar is ok, honey, maple syrup, and cane juice is not)

No gluten

No dairy

No soy

No corn

No wheat products of any kind, including barley, rye, bran.

2 liters of water/ day

No oranges or orange juice

No eggs (I may fudge this a bit)

No peanuts.

It’s not going to be fun, but I’m up for the challenge.