Well, hello there!

Guess who arrived? CD 1! On Saturday. At the risk of over-sharing, you could TELL that it had been almost 60 days since my last cycle. Things were not pretty in Ladyville. But that's the price I'll pay. The cramps weren't horrific this time, only really bothering me over the weekend. No warning cramps though, like I usually do, which was part of the horror. I'm very curious what was different this time around. I mean, the only thing I actively did different was NOT see an acupuncturist. Which I was convinced was a whole bunch of hand-waving, but now? Maybe I could use a little more hocus-pocus in my life.

We're moving again tomorrow moved yesterday. Into a duplex with a yard on a greenbelt full of healthy running paths and doggie play areas and three bedrooms and good times to be had. We've been in a little corporate apartment for the last 40 days, and we're feeling it. We'll also be closer to the pool I joined, so all that'll be good for my McFatty ways. (Ignore the mouth full of macaroni and cheese. We haven't hadn't moved yet, duh.)

The move has been incredibly overwhelming and all consuming, mainly due to the fact that Dr Boy can't lift anything due to the 10-days post-appendectomy. He assures me he's fine, but I'm terrified of the hernia the surgeon warned of if he was too active too soon. At least everything's in the new place now, and we're just in the unpacking phase. I should take a picture tonight. It's horrifying.

Anyone want to come help? I make a mean crock pot of chili... If I can find the crock pot, that is...

The Girls

They hurt. Maybe CD1 is around the corner? Dare I hope? Reminds me of that glorious feeling I had last time I ovulated. The last time I confirmed ovulation was back on Jan 25th-ish. Right now, it's CD 48, and I'm tired. I'm tired of waiting for this party to get started. I'm tired of waiting to get serious with doctors because of switching insurance plans.

I'm tired of hearing the usual:

- Wow! I thought you wanted children fairly early!

- Oh, are you guys waiting to have kids?

- Oooooh..... isn't it fun trying?

- I'm sure you'll get pregnant once you move- it's the stress!

- Well, you're still young!

- Just adopt! It makes you fertile!

- I guess you're just not irresponsible enough to get pregnant!

Every infertility blogger has a post like this, where you're Just. So. Tired. Of. It. So much else is going well right now (except for the whole Dr Boy Appendix Incident), I just wish so much that I could add this to the list. There was a going-away party at work today for a girl who's moving to a new field office. There were a couple of young children brought by stay-at-home spouses- a four-year-0ld with crazy red curls, and a 12-week-old with the softest tufts of blond hair and a vice-grip when you held his hand. I made my usual swoony face at both, and faced the usual barrage of questions. The ones that inevitably arise when you're childless and married for almost 5 years. I don't want to be THAT person, the one that is outwardly bitter. Because it's not that I'm NOT happy for the families at work- I'm thrilled! I don't want anyone to have to deal with this bullcrap. It just sometimes feels like my chest is trying to cave in. That's all.

I have an appt with a new OB/Gyn on April 2nd. New city + New insurance = Starting Over. Again. I can't take this "wait and see" approach any longer. I really just need something more to hang my hat on right now. I want to be Excited to poas. Not resigned.

Thanks for coming to my Pity Party. Hannah enjoyed herself at least. Of course, she got a treat for coming :)

"Team" Sports

It's hard for me to consider swimming a "team sport". It makes sense in the whole relay-style competitions, but even then, you're doing something by yourself, and you just happen to only participate a percentage of the time. But when I went to the pool yesterday and said I wanted to sign up for classes, the instructor, sorry, the Coach made sure I knew it was a "team", not "class". So call it what you will, but at least I did.... three days late.

I have no excuse for not going Friday night.... other than the 40mph winds, temps in the 40s, and rain... but who's counting, right? I love weather! I was just tired, and napped instead of being a productive human being. So I went last night, swam, and loved it. Like I always do. And I'll use that to keep me going back.

So there's one in the plus column for this week. There were quite a few negatives, the least of which was an emergency (are they ever NOT) appendectomy Saturday afternoon/evening for Dr Boy. And yes, he self-diagnosed. Thank god he listened to his body (where did I hear that one this month? Oh yeah!) and didn't try and tough it out. The thing didn't rupture, but it had curled up almost into a knot- I think it went into the fetal position when it didn't feel good. That's the story I'm sticking to at least.

So lots of stress-eating this week. Let's just say that before Dr Boy went into the hospital, we had the better portion of a gallon of ice cream in the freezer. When he came home, elves had eaten it. Elves. I swear, it was elves. He's doing much better now, so I'm going to do well this week. The Scale of Doom comes out of storage next Tuesday... and I. Have. The. Fear.

Wish me luck...

Hold Me Accountable......

.....for joining a "swim team" on Friday.

So I can decrease the McFattyness that a month of per diem meals have built*.

So I can socialize with one of my bestest of friends.

So that I can utilize the birthday presents the in-laws gave me.

So there.

Nag me.

Bother me.

Yell at me on Saturday if I don't.

Thanks!

By the way, I'm on CD42 with no signs of CD1 on their way. I'm pissed.

An Ode to My Scale

Oh angst-inspiring square piece of glass,
You tell me how much fat I've acquired on my ass.

Into storage you have gone for the entire month,
I don't know what I weigh. Harrumph.

I miss knowing the daily changes in my weight
That make me feel not so good, or great!

Without that scale I do not know
How much I added with that Ho-Ho.

So thank you, Dear Scale, for all that you do,
Including seeing how much I lose when I poo.

-JM

Helloooooooo again, at long last, McFatties! I have been quite busy, uprooting my home, packing, moving, starting a new job, etc. Things are in a bit of upheaval in the Meier household, and most of our worldly possessions are in temporary storage. Including my Dear Scale. Part of me wants to buy a new one, but the other part says eff it. It'll only be another three weeks or so and it's not worth the $$. It is, though, funny how much weighing yourself nearly-daily keeps you actually caring what the number is.

I'm doing alright right now, I guess. I've been a LOT more active since I moved, taking a swim class once a week, and walking with the crazy puppy a lot more (note: she's still insecure). Taking my pills.

Unfortunately, there's been a LOT of eating out recently, and I mean a LOT. Plus, I can neither confirm nor deny my presence at a beer tasting festival this last weekend.

So.... for my goal? I'm sure I'll fall short, but I don't think by much. I'll let 'ya know when My Scale comes home....

...and then go on a crash diet to not look like a FAILURE for the next 24 days.

Today I weigh: Who knows? (net loss xx lbs)
Today my BMI is: Mmmmm kay
Goal: 165 lbs (wedding weight!!!!)
Goal BMI: 25.5
By When? April 24th