Follow me on the crazy, hopeful, discouraging, funny, and ultimately successful (one way or another) path to parenthood while facing infertility.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

No-Baby Weight

I spent 30 minutes hula-hooping today and bought those crazy sneakers with the balance ball instability built into them. I looked like a crazy woman gyrating in my living room, scared the crap out of my dog, and will probably sprain my ankle before the week is out. Why this sudden flurry of questionable activity? Because I can't stand the No-Baby Weight I'm carrying.

Pregnancy and new parent magazines are full of articles and tips on losing the baby weight after your pregnancy has ended and your bundle(s) of joy is sweetly not sleeping in his/her crib. But what about my weight gain? The No-Baby Weight? I am pretty sure that every IVF I do I have gained about 8 pounds. I started this process 2 pants sizes ago. How does this happen? The medication can cause weight gain. The period when you are stimming and your ovaries are brimming with ripe follicles does not exactly inspire a body to go for a run. After egg retrieval you are too sore to exercise and after transfer you're terrified that if you exercise you will keep the embryos from staying and burrowing and making a nice home for themselves. After a negative test you just want to eat crap to get back at your body for not cooperating despite all the healthful eating and deprivation and conscientiousness you've endured over the past weeks and months preparing for the cycle (that, by the way, people who get pregnant while drunk on weekend trips or whatnot do not do at all). Or, you are just too depressed to get up off the couch and stop eating the bag of salt and vinegar chips or the gluten-free brownies that your loving husband made to cheer you up. This up and down and up and down and up and down of infertility treatment is exhausting, and it has a profound (and quite visible) effect on the body. It is so unfair because I have nothing to show for it except the memory of more than a few full sharps containers.

I was in the support group before yoga on Monday, and we got to talking about the weight gain associated with infertility. I brought up pants. Pants are why I am putting in an effort to be more active and eat a little better in the months leading up to my next IVF. Pants are incredibly irritating. Because I don't want to buy another set of pants in a new size. I want to buy MATERNITY pants, for the love of all that is holy. I want to believe that I will be buying maternity pants very soon, and will need my clothes budget for my whole new, sassy, very cute set of pregnancy pants and outfits. I don't want to blow my money on bigger pants for a nonpregnant, infertility-chubbed-up me. I am apparently not alone in my pants frustration, which was comforting. Especially since sometimes it feels like the other yoga ladies are untouched by the plague of fertilityfat--they look so lithe and beautiful to me.

So, I will step things up and hula hoop and yogify and walk in my slightly dangerous shoes that promise me a better butt, posture, and thigh toning. Because I want to spend my money on lots of those cute pregnancy outfits, dammit.

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