Enough

I’m haven’t update in such a long time. I feel almost embarrassed to post. My endo visits have been all but unproductive lately, mostly because of my lack of motivation. I feel guilty, embarrassed and ashamed. I want to have a baby so badly, but I’m just not doing as I’m being told. After visiting her twice and receiving back my blood test, I was told my testosterone was too high. Not incredibly high, but enough to screw up my body. I had noticed a lot more chin hairs lately, plus the weight I had slowly put on was mostly on my upper body, “wrestler type”, but I didn’t put it together.

The Endo and spoke and we decided to wait to TTC for now, and I was placed on Diane (birth control) and Androcur (a testosterone blocker) for 3 months. I left her office disappointed and discouraged. What bothered me more was that I failed the goal I had made 7 weeks prior to my last appointment… to lose weight. I’ll be honest, I’ve never been a size 6 and I’ve never weighed 115 pounds. Maybe when I was 10? Who knows! I’m only 5’4 and my body, for as long as I can remember, has had curves. When I was younger, I thought I was HUGE. Now that I look back, I was the right weight and shape for my height. Society and peer pressure has seriously jaded my opinion of my body throughout my lifetime.

When I was 19, I think my body was at it’s best. I was about 150 and the weight was proportionally all in the right place. I felt confident and had tons of energy. When I turned 23 and got married, I went off the pill and all hell broke loose. Weight gain, hair loss, acne, chin hairs, no periods at all… it was hell. My self esteem plummeted and my marriage became rocky and ended. After many test and procedures, the conclusion was PCOS. I was devastated. Too much, too soon. It all hit me like a brick wall.

“Get on the scale.” The endo as she read my chart. “You weighed in at 187 seven weeks ago. Lets see how much you’ve lost.” My heard sunk as I slowly walked to the scale. Although my clothes felt a little lose, I knew I hadn’t lost weight. I had weighed myself earlier in the morning and was at that same weight. “185. Two pounds.” She said after sliding the little square weight thing all over the place. She glanced and we made eye contact, then she looked down at the chart and started to write things down again. I couldn’t help but think she felt disappointed. Not that she did, but the look said it all. “Well, your blood pressure is okay and I’m glad you’re losing weight. I know it can be difficult.” She continued to write things down and not make eye contact.

“My pants fit looser but I’m just not seeing it on the scale.” I said hanging my head in disappointment. She remained quiet and walked to her desk.

“Sit down honey.” She said taking a breath. That was the beginning of a long lecture. My endo was right though. My body is all kinds of messed up. It’s up to ME to fix it. It’s already proven that I can get pregnant when I lose weight. Now that I’m on Met, it might help keep me pregnant. I can’t blame anyone else. It’s no one’s fault BUT my own. If I want to get pregnant, I have to do something about it. I have lose the weight. I have to fix my hormones. I have to exercise and make my body healthy. I have to make the changes. It’s like that saying, “If you what you’ve always done, you get what you’ve always gotten.”

I must say that one of my biggest loves (besides my family, the ocean and the sky) has always been food. I just LOVE food. Bread is sexy. Sugar makes me hot. Pasta… well, we won’t talk about pasta. –smiles- I have to change my relationship with food though. I have to end my love affair with it and start to adore fruits, veggies, fish and chicken. I have to stop and think of what I’m putting in my mouth. I have to walk wherever I can and take the stairs. I shouldn’t just “go on a diet,” but “change my way of living.” I HATE being fat. HATE it. It’s not only TTC, but everyday life. My self esteem, my sex life, my energy level… it’s all gone down BECAUSE I HATE the way my body looks.

After I got home, I cried so hard. I felt like a failure. To make things worse, I did exactly what I shouldn’t have done. I sat down with a box of oreo cookies and a big glass of milk and just… ate. I ate away my sadness. After I was done, I felt HORRIBLE. This was the first time I had EVER done this. This is not me. So, what did I do? I continued the pig-out fest for the next few days.

When the Diane and the Androcur started kicking me butt, I felt HORRIBLE. I was exhausted, my boobs hurt and all I wanted to do was sleep. This has continued pretty much since them, until four days ago. It ate pretty much whatever I could because of the nausea. Cheese sandwiches? Yes please. Raviolis and bread with butter? Sure thing!

Then four days ago, I started to feel better. As I lay in bed, I started reevaluating the situation. Who was I hurting by over eating? I was only hurting myself. I realized then that with every piece of cake, with every chocolate and bread I ate, I was pushing away a baby from my life. With every sandwich and hamburger, I was guaranteeing the lights would be off when my boyfriend and I made love. It just kinda… clicked, right then and there. I realized I was hurting myself and killing my vision of having a baby.

Being that I wasn’t dying of exhaustion, I decided to take advantage of it. I started walking and using a pedometer to keep track. I walked on the 28th but I never saved the post and I accidentally erased it when I logged in today. –sigh- Here's what I remember though...

Sept. 28,2010
Steps: -
Distance (mi): 1.-
Calories: 100.-
Time (min): 38.00
Avg. Speed (m/h): -

Sept. 30, 2010
Steps: 2585
Distance (mi): 1.147
Calories: 90.4
Time (min): 23.20
Avg. Speed (m/h): 2.9

Here are my other stats. Sad little stats they are...

My last weigh-in...

May 29th, 2010
Highest Weight: 199 lbs
First weigh-in's weight: 193.8 lbs
Current Weight: 182.6 lbs
Lowest Weight: 135 lbs

My weigh in the day before yesterday...

September 28th, 2010
Highest Weight: 199 lbs
First weigh-in's weight: 193.8 lbs
Current Weight: 189.6 lbs
Lowest Weight: 135 lbs

My poor little butterfly is pissed on now. It had to fly backwards. :(



I’m on day 13 of Diane and Androcur. I stop Androcur in 2 days and Diane ends on day 21. Then there are 7 days when my period should come and the cycle of meds begin again. That will be month 2. For the last four days, I have eating healthy and have been happy. I am hoping to go grocery shopping later today and will most likely begin my low carb diet. It NEED this for myself.

I'm going to make the change. I know I've said this a thousand times, but this is it. I'm going to give it my all for the next year. I know I have a thousand other things to juggle (like finding a full time job), but I have my boyfriend's full support, along with my family's unconditional love, but I know I can do it. I can fix my body and give it the best chance to have a baby. If we our best and nothing works though, then we will probably give up on the whole pregnancy thing (at least for a while) and start researching foster care and adoption. I know we will love ANY child God sends our way.

I know this post is super long, but I’ve had so much emotions, concerns and anger in my heart. I just wanted to get it all out. If you can relate, have advice or comments, please let me know. I need all the support I can get. I feel like I’m climbing a never ending mountain and having people around who know what I’m dealing with means so much to me.

<3 Aymen