#notpregnantjustfat

Recently I have really thrown myself into the fertility fight, because I have decided that I have waited long enough. All the time I have been trying for a baby I have been very focused on the possibility of my own problems including a large ovarian cyst, PCOS (I was incorrectly diagnosed with this, but the fear that the real mistake was the doctor who told me I didn't have it still hangs over me, 'what if I am missing out on vital treatment?'), tilted uterus or something similar (nurses always struggle to find my cervix during smear tests) etc etc. What I haven't considered for more than a fleeting moment, is the possibility that the problem is not with me. It takes two people (or at least the ingredients from two people) to make a baby, so why is so much focus on the female? If I were baking a cake (I wouldn't be, I'm a fucking terrible baker!) and it came out tasting like shit, or didn't rise or...I don't know what else can go wrong with cakes becau...

So after my first few posts, I thought to myself 'I am really getting into the swing of this blogging jazz, I just need to set myself a schedule.' I didn't. I'm a born slacker. Apparently without a deadline set in stone, my brain believes a schedule to mean 'anytime but now.' I'm sure you've all been waiting with bated breath for my latest update, so here it is. I have probably gone on a bit so far about fertility issues, but I've skated around the Fatty McFatterson issue that is staring me in the face every time I look in the mirror. I keep telling myself that Jeremy Kyle types with all sorts of substance abuse issues get pregnant all day long so 'a few pounds' couldn't possibly hurt me, but the reality is that it could be. So it's time to get real and get this fat girl off her fat ass and moving (which is probably what motivated me to sit back down and start writing again...funny that).  Over the years I have found myself suffe...

OK so for anyone on tenterhooks after my last post, I can clear everything up very quickly. My 'show' soon developed into a full-blown underwear massacre (sorry for the imagery) and I spent the rest of my evening watching trash TV cuddled up to - what turned out to be - a leaky hot water bottle. To add insult to injury I didn't even realise until I got up to refill it as it was wrapped in a blanket and I felt how cold and wet my whole abdomen was. So there it is...I'm not pregnant, just fat. Still. Now the 'in-the-know' fertile Gods out there may be tutting in disgust at my acknowledgement of being fat as it is a well known medical fact that carrying extra weight may impact fertility negatively. Well guess what fertility Gods...I KNOW! When I say I am fat, I don't mean I'm a roly-poly, Fatty McFatterson who needs the roof removed and a crane to be lifted out of the house (although some days I don't feel too far away!). What I mean is that I am...