OK, so I really should've started this a long time ago, but 'I haven't had time, work, work, work etc' and all the other bullshit excuses we perpetuate to put off things that scare us.
This is a mixture of a typical fat girl diary and also a catalogue of fertility trials and tribulations, so buckle up, cos you're in for a rough ride! Sorry to anyone who was looking for a weight loss journal, I'm over 30 now so I don't lose weight.
*Looking Back Through Rose Coloured Glasses*
Back in my twenties, I lived the life, drank every weekend (often more often 😜), casually "dated" (I write "dated" as actual dating for Irish people is a relatively new phenomenon, since the dawn of online dating apps; prior to that, relationships used to start with a few drunken "shifts/snogs/getting off with/go wi etc" and after some time could blossom into something longer lasting), whilst generally clawing my way through my career and life. Other than working through the grief from losing my Father, my life was relatively footloose and fancy free. I had no mortgage, few bills and I even refused to get a contract phone as I didn't want to be 'tied down.'
During that time of 'finding myself' and learning how to stand on my own two feet (that took a while by the way, I was like Bambi on Ice throughout most of it when I look back now), there was one thing I never questioned and that was my fertility. If anything, I over-estimated it and lived in constant fear of having a 'whoops' (I don't think I need to explain that any further). As it turns out I never did have a 'whoops' just one or two 'uh-oh' moments of panic that were short lived and never would have happened if I knew then what I know now.
The thing is that I went to a Convent School (stereotype alert) and the only 'sex education' we received was when a Nun took over one of our usual RE lessons (we actually had a male, lay Religious Education teacher shock horror) and produced a packet of sanitary towels or 'fanny pads' as we called them. They were standard issue stock, with wings and she told us (lisp and all) "Theseth are to be kept hidden and only thaken out when needed. Otherwisthe a younger brother could find them and usthe them to play copsth and robbersth, or aeroplanesth." At the time we were about 14 and most of us had been having periods for up to three years. That was the end of that. Other than this we were taught about pollination in biology for fleeting moment, although nothing I learned there has helped me in anyway on my real life journey on the road to conception.
What they didn't tell us then (I suppose we couldn't expect a Nun to know or understand these things) is that:
This is a mixture of a typical fat girl diary and also a catalogue of fertility trials and tribulations, so buckle up, cos you're in for a rough ride! Sorry to anyone who was looking for a weight loss journal, I'm over 30 now so I don't lose weight.
*Looking Back Through Rose Coloured Glasses*
Back in my twenties, I lived the life, drank every weekend (often more often 😜), casually "dated" (I write "dated" as actual dating for Irish people is a relatively new phenomenon, since the dawn of online dating apps; prior to that, relationships used to start with a few drunken "shifts/snogs/getting off with/go wi etc" and after some time could blossom into something longer lasting), whilst generally clawing my way through my career and life. Other than working through the grief from losing my Father, my life was relatively footloose and fancy free. I had no mortgage, few bills and I even refused to get a contract phone as I didn't want to be 'tied down.'
During that time of 'finding myself' and learning how to stand on my own two feet (that took a while by the way, I was like Bambi on Ice throughout most of it when I look back now), there was one thing I never questioned and that was my fertility. If anything, I over-estimated it and lived in constant fear of having a 'whoops' (I don't think I need to explain that any further). As it turns out I never did have a 'whoops' just one or two 'uh-oh' moments of panic that were short lived and never would have happened if I knew then what I know now.
The thing is that I went to a Convent School (stereotype alert) and the only 'sex education' we received was when a Nun took over one of our usual RE lessons (we actually had a male, lay Religious Education teacher shock horror) and produced a packet of sanitary towels or 'fanny pads' as we called them. They were standard issue stock, with wings and she told us (lisp and all) "Theseth are to be kept hidden and only thaken out when needed. Otherwisthe a younger brother could find them and usthe them to play copsth and robbersth, or aeroplanesth." At the time we were about 14 and most of us had been having periods for up to three years. That was the end of that. Other than this we were taught about pollination in biology for fleeting moment, although nothing I learned there has helped me in anyway on my real life journey on the road to conception.
What they didn't tell us then (I suppose we couldn't expect a Nun to know or understand these things) is that:
- Sex is natural (shock horror, God or evolution or something created us with these body parts for a purpose, and not just us humans, but God's other creatures too!)
- Sex can be enjoyable and not just functional and the world won't stop turning if you do it outside marriage *gasps*
- Periods happen, women have them, but men don't drop down dead when they occur or are even mentioned, nor should they be 'shielded' from them; it's a natural occurrence, not a loaded gun (plus we don't get to avoid any of their bodily functions!)
- There is actually a very small window of opportunity each month when a woman is fertile enough to get pregnant
No 4 is the most pertinent point for me. It wasn't until I started trying to get pregnant that I realised how hard it can actually be (as I said, I wouldn't have had those 'uh-oh' moments if I'd known then what I know now). As an educated woman it shocked me when I began to realise how little I actually knew about my own body at the age of 30(ish). Is this something that I missed? Has everyone always known this? Growing up I had heard about the 'rhythm method' (thank you Catholic Church) which would lead you to believe that there is a time for abstinence each month, although there was never anything concrete to back it up and it was always a bit more of a pseudoscience than cold hard fact. It was also peddled in the days before medical contraception methods were freely available, so I had never given it much thought.
By contrast, conception for the over 30's - from BBMs to bodily fluids to *whispers* periods (sorry to any men reading, please wash out your eyes as necessary) to insemination (how sexy is that), medications, devices, apps, weight and so on, there are a lot of factors to be taken into consideration when trying to conceive. Here was I, naively believing that any ol' roll in the hay could result in a baby...I blame the opening scene from 'Looks Who's Talking,' for my skewed notions of fertility, more like 'Look Who's Talking Shite.' Clearly factually inaccurate. I wonder if it's too late to sue *fades off into a wistful daydream where money is no object and fertility isn't even a question*
So children, the moral of today's story is that sex education did nothing to educate me and if you're trying not to get pregnant, just download an app, track your cycle, forget about medical interventions and enjoy life you lucky thing (although don't forget about STDs, thems pesky lil buggers and should be taken seriously).
Over & out for now
#stillfat #stillnotpregnant #justfatnotpregnant
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