#notpregnantjustfat

Hi Everyone and welcome to the latest edition of my blog! I feel like scolding people for things that I have seen on social media recently i.e. fake pregnancy announcements, however, as many of us are agreed, this is an opportunity for a teaching moment rather than a witch hunt. Thankfully fake pregnancy announcements are becoming more few and far between as people get more educated on the wider world and things that don't necessarily impact them directly and also as the way we use social media changes. I can still remember a time before  social media *shock horror* when my friends and I would speak to each other on the phone, or make solid arrangements about where to meet; a time when no one cared what we had for dinner, and the almighty avocado was yet to be discovered. Back then poor taste humour was confined to your own social (actual social  i.e. people in real life, in front of you) circle and I don't doubt that if I took the time to scroll/cringe my way throug...

This week someone I know suffered a miscarriage. It is horrible and unfortunately we are not that close, so I don't feel like I can be there for her in the way I would like to be. If I could be there for her I would tell her that she doesn't have to be level headed like she is being, that just because she sensibly says  'It just wasn't meant to be this time' doesn't mean than she shouldn't feel the pain. I would also tell her that the fact that this is her first miscarriage after two beautiful, healthy babies doesn't make any difference, she is still ALLOWED to feel the hurt.  I wouldn't tell her that she will be fine if she just gives it a bit of time, or that it is very common, or that she wasn't that far gone (as if that makes a difference), or that she will be pregnant again in no time. I would tell her that I am there for her, however she feels and she can talk to me anytime she needs me, or if she wants space that is fine too. I would...

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 ...