#notpregnantjustfat

Good afternoon everyone and HAPPY NEW YEAR! Sorry I know I'm a bit late on that, but as you will be aware I have been very quiet on here for a while.  My last update was just after our first appointment at the private fertility clinic and before my gynae appointment about suspected endometriosis. I'll start at the fertility clinic. We drove the hour and a half up there and were seen very quickly after arriving (no NHS waiting lists here). The Doctor brought us into his very nice office and went through the results of both of our tests. Both were very positive and thus he informed us we were in the 'unexplained infertility' category. He went through A LOT of forms and told us to take them home and read them (back to time is money people). He also very quickly mentioned my risk of OHSS due to my results, although if I hadn't done my own research prior to the appointment, I fear this may have gone over my head and I definitely wouldn't be aware of what a real r...

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...

So today I am still fat and still not pregnant for anyone who was wondering. Although my idea of myself as 'fat' has changed somewhat over the years. Today I have a BMI of 28.4 and am teetering on the edge of officially obese according to the NHS. To get back within my 'safe' weight bracket I have to lose 1.5 stone, to sit in the middle of said bracket I need to lose 3 stone. Despite this health warning, I am more comfortable in my own skin now than then. In years gone by I was fit and healthy and never understood how people let themselves get so out of shape, to be honest I still don't, it has just kind of 'happened' (I blame hitting the dreaded 3-0 and the resulting decline in my metabolism). Despite my previous good fortune with my weight, I never saw it that way at the time and always believed I was fat, not obese or anything, but the word 'fat' has always clung to the back of my mind. Now I just wish I were as fat as the first time I thought I...

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 ...