I find myself wishing I hadn’t told
anyone our pregnancy plans. I’m not pregnant yet, after the ease of our first
conception, I didn’t think it would be an issue. He wasn’t planned, our
relationship was still so new, then oops, I didn’t have a period for the first
9 months we were together? Yeah, silly me, thinking baby the 2nd
would be just as easy. I hate being wrong. I hate not knowing things and I hate
this waiting period.
Having people constantly asking me if I’m
pregnant yet brings the failure to the forefront, depressing me, reminding me
that my plans have gone awry. It’s not just one person asking too frequently,
it’s everyone asking 1 or 2 times a month. The answer is no, I’m not pregnant,
I’m doing everything right, I’m healthy, my folic acid levels are awesome, I have
no vitamin deficiencies, I exercise, my cholesterol is perfect, my A1C is still
in the “pre” diabetes range (I like to call it “post” or “on hold”). I’ve tried
counting my calories, to make sure my balance is there, and it was, then I realized
I was becoming obsessed so I stopped in hopes that if I didn’t think too much,
it could just happen. Maybe it’s time to freaking starve myself, lose those
extra twelve pounds that make me look hot rather than anorexic so I can release
whatever stored up estrogen thinks it is lurking in fat (WHAT FAT?!!?!?!) to
get pregnant, since obviously taking care of myself and eating balanced meals
isn’t working.
Next test is Thanksgiving morning, if there is news, I'll share, otherwise, please don't ask me if I'm pregnant yet.
End Rant.
