That La Kid

wishin' an' hopin'!

i hate everything

Oh, the irony…

As I was writing that last post, as I was in the middle of writing about how much I hoped everything was okay – how I was sure it was gonna be fine, George came.  I ignored him, but when I went to take a shower to get ready for the doctor it was irrefutable.  As plain as the nose on my face… er… the blood in my underpants.  (Ew.)

I thought I was two days shy of “10 weeks pregnant”.

I didn’t know what was happening, and still thought maybe this thing was salvageable.  So, I put my legs up, called Tom and we went straight to the doctor.

Okay, and… it’s like… I don’t know… I just don’t understand why God would string somebody along like this.  Even as we raced to the doctor, it was like God was punk’ng me.  We left here about an hour earlier than we planned, and still got there just in time to go to my appointment as scheduled.  There was an accident on I-77 that not only caused us to be late, but about a dozen happy pregnant women were waddling in at the same time.

They asked me to pee in a cup.  And I cried, because I knew it was over.

I went into a room and with a nurse and we talked about stuff, although I didn’t really get the chance to deal with details because I started crying again when she asked how long we’d been trying.

The doctor came in and we talked more in depth about my medical history.  I told her I felt like I was going crazy and cried some more.

She asked if I wanted to do a pap smear and I guess a pelvic exam, and I said, “That’s not going to be pleasant for either one of us.”

“Oh, yeah… right,” she said, “your period.”  We talked about an exam in 3 weeks.  We talked more about what’s going on, but not at all in the gory details I was planning to tell her.  She asked mostly yes or no questions.  Like, “any health problems?”  I said, “Well, obesity.”  She asked what I thought was causing that, she might have just said, “why do you think that is?” and I said probably soda.

So, we decided to get me in for an exam and go from there.  I don’t know… then what was the point of this whole day?  Just… omg the crying.

“Unless you want to go ahead and try some hormones now.”

“Well, I want to try SOMETHING.”

Good news: officially getting the ball rolling.  Bad news: she had to make sure my ovaries weren’t swollen first, or some shit, by sticking her hand up my hoo-hah anyway.

But I got a Rx for something.  It’s something that has to do with breast cancer.

I told Tom in the car that it just doesn’t seem right using hormones.  It doesn’t feel like God’s timing, it feels like us timing it.  We’re making it happen.  And Tom kind of alluded to that story about the guy that drowns.  (You know, there’s a hurricane coming, so the news told everyone to evacuate… but dude doesn’t leave because he knows God will save him.  Well, guess what?  The hurricane comes and floods his street.  Police come through in a boat and offer to take him to safety, but he stays with his house citing that God will save him.  Well, the levy broke and as the flood waters rise he climbs to the roof of his house just as a helicopter passes overhead.  A search and rescue team throws a ladder down to the guy and begs him to get on, but he maintains that the Lord will save him.  He drowns.  He meets God and is all, “wtf, mate?”  And God says, what more do you want, I told you it was coming, then sent a boat and a helicopter.  Tom was kind of referencing that…)  He said, “well, what about penecillan?  Not everything’s a miracle.”

Tom was with me the whole time.  It’s nice that even if we never have a kid, we’ve got each other.

By the way, I peed in the cup and it was negative.  There was no miscarriage or anything, because there never was a baby.  There was only a crazy Wendy.

And now I am even more pissed about Courtney and Geo ttc.  It’s not their fault at all, but I hate them for it.

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Just in case this pregnancy nonsense pans out, I’m eating more roughage.  I watched this documentary called, “Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead.”  This guy drinks juice, and only juice, all day every day for 60 days.  It sounds crazy, but the whole premise was that he is nursing his body back to health and drastically switching from a meat and potatoes guy to a “stuff that is green” guy.  What got to me wasn’t the incredible weight loss, but a look at the average American dinner plate.  It’s 50% meat, 25% vegetable (maybe) and 25% starchy white potatoes or some kind of white bread.  And I wash it all down with a couple of sodas.

I don’t really mind fruits and vegetables.  My Dad, for example, could never do the juice thing, because he doesn’t really like carrots – much less carrot juice.  I like carrots, well, at least I can tolerate them.

Okay, so, for breakfast today and yesterday, I had Kashi Something-Or-Other cereal.  You know?  That hippie cereal with all the good crap in it?  I threw in a handful of blueberries.  I did have a burger yesterday – but I didn’t want to throw it out.  It was leftover from my birthday lunch.  Tuesday and Wednesday I had a big ol’ honkin’ salad with dark leafy greens.  The Tuesday one also had cucumber and green pepper in there.

Wait, wait, let me do it this way:
Tuesday: Huge salad w/ green pepper, pear, cucumber.  Cereal with blueberries. Chicken spaghetti
Wednesday: Cereal with blueberries.  Big dark green salad.  Banana. Carnitas burrito from Chipotle
Thursday:  Cereal with blueberries. Banana. Corn on the cob (x2).

Plus, I’m drinking water.  I’m sipping a soda right now and it’s very, “meh.”  Alright, so the diet’s not perfect.  Basically, it’s what I normally did, one meal a day at dinnertime, plus some healthy stuff.  But, I can’t go wrong cutting out the soda.   I can’t go straight to juice.  Pregnant people are supposed to do a lot of milk, right?  Don’t they say that?  So, I’m trying to do milk daily.  And eat something for every color of the rainbow everyday.

I don’t like bananas… but I’m willing to suffer through it.   I also think my lack of eating vegetables has to do with my skin burning so easily.  I forget the connection, but the guy in the movie said something about how the green stuff helps turn sunlight into something.    Tom and I both at one point during the movie looked at each other and were like, “why are they talking to us like we’re 5? Oh, right, because we never learned this stuff.”

So, on today’s menu… I need to add something red, and something green.  An orange wouldn’t hurt, although oranges and yellows are kind of grouped together. ( )  How many servings of fruit and vegetables are you supposed to eat per day?  I have no clue.  I’ll have to look into that.  I feel like it was 5 or 6.   Ok, i Googled it and it’s 2 – 4 fruits, 3 – 5 veggies.

It felt good to go shopping in the produce section and no where else.  It’s like… man… why haven’t we been doing this all along?  Why am I surprised that a diet of processed foods from boxes have left me feeling as bland as their cardboard packaging? And my addiction to soda is downright scary.

I’m thinking about a salad with pears and strawberries.  Maybe some walnuts, too.  It’s nice to feel excited about this stuff.  No weight change.  I don’t really care.  I will eventually join a pool or something to lose weight.  But, even if I’m fat… can’t go wrong eating all this green stuff, right?

Another thing that sticks out in my mind is:
“Use Sparingly: Refined Grains—White Bread, Rice, and Pasta; Potatoes; Sugary Drinks and Sweets; Salt”

Sparingly. That blows my mind. Sparingly. Sparingly is just a tiny pinch, right?  So, no more Velveeta Shells n’ Cheese every night.  No more chugging Cherry Coke.  I’m avoided stuff in boxes.  The less processed the better.


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