Pregnant Women Are Evil!?

Skinny Pregnant Women Are Evil!  The book Skinny Women Are Evil, written from a vuluptuous woman's persepective, talks about pride in accepting heavier women for who they are, not their size.  It also goes on to illustrate that skinny women are evil due to the fact that today's society has pratically laid out the red carpet for them, giving them every opportunity of praise and reward for their slim figures while their heavier coounterparts take the backseat.  It empowers F.A.T.(Fabulous And Thick) women to take charge and live life to the fullest in this less than accomodating society.  Well today class, it's the infertile women who are feeling slightly inferior.  If you're dealing with infertility, stepping outside can be quite difficult. No matter where you go, you will see baby bumps, strollers, and babies, and there's nowhere you can turn to avoid it! Magazines(Natatlie Portman, Tia Mowry, Mariah Ivanka Trump alll preggo. Whoopdi freakin do!!!), movies(Due Date! Knocked Up)  You know, I can't help but stare at the baby sections in Target and Walmart.  And I feel as if the disappointment is all over my face.  Although it is probably all in my head, I feel like the one pregnant women feel sorry for, or the one they're glad they're not! But why do we burn with envy upon looking at these swollen bellies, painfully swallowing the pill of our sad reality?
     I remember the day my sister in law called me and said she was pregnant.  My husband's brother called him at the same time to tell him the news.  I have to admit initially I thought it was a joke.  She had been a confidant during my struggle to get pregnant.  She and I shared the bond of painful periods and husband's who had to learn patience and caretaking on that awful "first day".  I helped her plan her wedding and felt so extremely happy when they exchanged vows.  We all were hangout partners and we often hung out and had long talks and late nights buggin' out together.  We were fam. When she told me she was pregnant, I felt slightly betrayed.  I tried to sound excited but I was more in shock.  From what they shared, they weren't even trying!(Haven't we heard that before, it just happened, whatever!)  As she told me the whole story of a late period and getting the test and her first appoinment with the doctor, I listened and waited for the april fools, only it was June.  Well being the giver that I am, without really thinking, I offerred for them to announce it to our hubbys' family the next day at my hubby and my apartment when everyone came over.  My husband's sister just graduated highschool and some of their family was in town. The grandmother was here and it was what I would have wanted to do anyway. What not a better time for them to make their special announcement?  After talking for sometime, we hung up and I went to cry in the bathroom.  I was happy for them, but I was sad for myself and my failed attempts at charting and proper planning all that comes with ttc.  I got myself together because I didn't want my husband to know I was upset.  The next day after the graduation everyone came over.  We were getting ready to watch a movie and I was becoming very bothered.  I knew the news was coming and I felt like I just couldn't handle it.  I left the room to go in my room and get myself together.  Then I heard my brother in law tell everyone.  Then I heard screams and laughing.  Their was such happiness coming from my living room, yet all I wanted to do was jump out the window.  I became sick to my stomach with anxiety.  My husband came in the room to tell me to come to the living room because they wanted to pray as a family.  As a Christian born and raised, I knew of the importance of praying and thanking God for His blessing and asking protection over the pregnancy.  I knew the importance of two or three or more gathering in His name.  But I didn't want to pray, I didn't want to be there.  I wanted to yell at God. I was angry at Him because I felt He forsook me.  I felt abandoned.  The one thing I wanted most in the world, He gave to someone who didnt even care, and I would have to be around to watch all of it, standing in the background, unnoticed and  bearing the title of barren. So as they prayed, I didn't. I looked around the room and thought of everything else.  When we were mentioned in  the prayer, to bless us for what was coming, I felt like saying whatever.  We've been forgotten!
     The next nine months of her pregnancy were hard.  I knew watching the little life in her grow would be difficult to watch, and it was.  Each month that went by, I got my period, and grew more bitter.  And when she did something I didn't like in particular,  I found my way to X her out of my life.  It was easier not to befriend her and not be around her while I was going through this bitter battle, so I opted for that.  And because I was more angry than happy for them, I hated myself even more, because I knew better.  I was raised to be Godly, but I was living the total opposite.  I was going further down to a really dark place, a place I hadn't been for a long time, and I was finding it harder to see light.  I don't really have many friends in the state I live in and depend a lot on the company via phone of some of my cousins.  So I spent a lot of time in the house, feeding on my depression.  My husband said what he could, as did my cousins, and I would feel good from time to time, but it wouldn't last.  I began feeling like drinking would help me escape, because Jesus was not listening and not speaking, so I thought. That was short lived.  New Years 2011 was a lesson that I only needed one time to learn.  I am not a drinker, so I had no idea what I was getting into.  Needless to say, alcohol wasn't the solution!  Girls in my hubby's extended friends circle were pregnant or just having babies and I couldn't take it.  I hated pregnant women.  I would wonder what was so much better about them than me.  Why were they chosen and I wasn't? They were in cahoots with the devil, I was convinced!  He and them together wanted to take me down, and I was going.  Everyone who's been married after us has a child.  It was just so so so unfair and unreal to me.  I cried alot, withdrew myself and fixated myself on a plan to move back to my homestate to go and be where I felt loved and had my happiest memories. 
     My sister in law gave birth to a beautiful baby girl earlier this month.  As I look at her and hear her little sounds and cries, I am brought to familiar ground.  A place of happiness. The innocence of this little being that God allowed in His creation, and the amazement of yet another wonder of God uproots the bitterness in my heart.  And because despair is no longer an option for me, I decided to be motivated by that miracle.  One day I may have the opportunity to experience this on a more personal level, and maybe not.  Either way, I decided to focus on more positive things, and delight in happier moments.  I even stopped looking at pregnant women as the enemy.  We are all sisters with God given purposes, some for the purpose of giving life and some for the purpose of helping sustain it, through laughter, encouragement, support and love.  At the moment I'm on the latter side, but it's important all the same in His eyes.

Peace & Blessings,
L.Z.

Allow Me To Re-Introduce Myself......

I'm Me.  A woman. A daughter. A sister.  A wife.  A stylist.  A christian. A virgo. A helpless romantic. A laugher. A crier.  A giver.  A loyal friend.  Many things can I put on a list of things I am.  But one word has broken me for months.  One single word has caused me to be all of those aforementioned things, yet feel like nothing.  One word that I am constantly reminded that I am not and it has driven my emotions and held me captive to them. 
A mother. 
How could this one thing cause me such grief and pain, and even hinder my friendships?  How could it have me feeling inadequate as a person, and mostly a woman? That is something I ask myself just about everyday.  Why am I so obsessed with calendars and cycles and charts and Cervical Mucus??!!
     Ever since I can remember, I loved baby dolls.  I loved feeding them, changing their clothes and caring for them. I loved all of the accesories, the strollers and crib, diaper bags.  (I also loved cutting and styling their hair, so it was no coincidence when I began a career in cosmetology.) But taking care of them was rewarding to me and from a little girl I knew I wanted to be someone's mommy..eventually, way later on. 
     When my sister was born when I was 13, I was beyond excited.  My mother didn't even have to ask me to help.  I did her hair, dressed her, took her everywhere, and loved loved loved her.  I am still doing the same for her now that she is 14, except she is being really picky about her clothes, lol!  As I got older, graduating highschool, I decided to go to college.  I dated a little, but towards the end of my first year I met a boy. Indeed, boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl likes boy, girl moves out of state, boy visits girl, girl moves back, boy and girl break up and make up 100 times, girl said "can I see myself building a life, having kids with boy?", girl decided yes, boy and girl get married.  That's how it first starts out, right?  Well for some. That is how I wanted it for me.  I grew up with a single mother, and women do it all the time. We're resilient and strong.  But I knew I wanted a father at home growing up and I wanted the same for the family I would create.  Our first year was the crazy one, of course.  We were crazy and didn't really have stable careers at the time. I actually was just starting out in my career as a stylist and there was minimal money.  We stood the test of time through a lot of frustration due to lack of money and learning to deal with living and functioning with another person.  My oh my was that hard!  But we did it. And after a year, we both had our jobs and were on our way up.  We had gotten married in August 2007.  By August 2008 we had moved to a nice affluent neighborhood that had a little more of a NY feel to it (being a native New Yorker, I constantly crave the movement of city life) and all was going pretty well.  I had gotten the fever, yes, baby fever, by then, but my husband just wasn't quite ready for it all.  Taking care of a household of two was enough, and the thought of a young life being solely his responsibility didn't sit well.  So we waited.  I was burning with desire for a mini me/him, and could not stop my daydreams and imaginations.  I was thinking of names and themes and birthing options.  I could not wait.  Some months went by and time went on.  In May 2009, my husband said he wanted to have a talk with me.  So we sat down in the living room.  He told me he was ready to have a baby.  I can remember to this day the way I felt a little lightheaded and my stomach had a little flutter.  I was excited and just could not believe he felt comfortable.  He is not big on change, so this was major for him.  I was so happy that day in May.  We decided I would take my pills for that month until they finished, and that would be my last pack.  Toward the end of May, I took my last pill. So I thought. 
     I had scheduled a preconception appointment at my OB/GYN office.  The Nurse Practitioner gave me a little packet with info about Ovulation Predictor Kits and prepping the body.  She told me they usually ask women to wait 3 months after stopping the pill before they start trying.  She also told me that when your body ovulates, you should  get a regular period like before you were taking the pill.  I left the office feeling so good, so full of life, so expecting to be full of life soon.  I felt little twinges and cramps for a few days.  I remember thinking, wow this may be it.  I read on the internet that you can have light cramping in early pregnancy.  I patiently awaited what the future would bring that month.  On June 25 2009, the day MJ died, I got my period.  I was couch ridden, cramping and feeling awful and to top it off I saw the news first.  What a day!! As I felt terribly for his family,  I felt optimistic about my process.It  was only the first month.  But I had some big events coming up.  I was going to take my cosmetology license exam in September, and I had to travel to do that.  Also I was my friend's matron of honor in her October wedding.  So I backed out! I resumed my pills mid July for fear of painful periods during these important events.  I began taking BC pills 5 years earlier to help with my ultra painful periods.  I suffered those from the age of 13 and spent many days curled up in the bed, calling out to Jesus, having dizziness, hot flashes, throwing up, and pain so unbearable, that I would sometimes go to the ER.  The type of pain that when treating at home, only 4 Aleve every 4 hours would cure.  It's by the grace of God I don't have ulcers! 
     I completed my exam and passed in September, so with that out of the way I just had the wedding.  Then my friend called me one night and said she was postponing the wedding until February 2010.  After hearing that I was like oh no I can't put my life on hold any longer.  In mid October, I finally came off my pills, for real this time.  The first period was hard after that. It came November 8, 29 days after stopping the pill.  It was really bad, so I believed I probably ovulated.  Then 29 days later I had another period.  January's period was a little late, like 5 days.  I got a little excited at first. But it came and I was disappointed. But I moved on.  July 2010's period was late, this time 7 days.  That was hard.  My husband's brother's wife announced in June she was preggo after they had been married almost a year.  (I'll get into that on another day/post.)  This time I just knew this was it.  And on 4th of July it came.  Month after month went by and nothing.  I begged my husband to go and get a semen ananlysis since that was easy and non invasive.  He procrastinated and it drove me crazy! I went to NY in August to celebrate my cousin's bday as well as mine.  I heard a lot of "when you go on vacation and come back you'll be relaxed and it will happen".  I came back from NY, relaxed and peaceful. I had a blast and came back home without a care.  Didn't happen.  October came. It went.  That made it a year.  By then I was stressed.  I was now considered infertile. Or was it my husband? He still hadn't gone to take the test.  I was badgering him daily about this test.  I needed to find out already! In November he had taken the test.  The results stated he was normal.  I was happy, but I knew now that it had to be me. I was the one who was hindering this process.  So in December I had my first infertily testing appointment.  Well not testing but the talk.  We talked about all the fun tests I would have to do and the Dr. was very optimistic about the outcome.  So I was given my paper work for the hormone level blood test I would have to do on the third day of my cycle.  Funny thing is on day 29 my cycle didn't come.  A week later, nothing. No warning cramps, no dryness, actually feeling wet down there all the time, but no indicators of impending period.  Of course I took pregnancy tests! I don't know how many, but I took a few. Time after time hoping  to see a positive.  But I never saw it.  I read online that some women have negative blood and urine tests for awhile but later found out they were pregnant. So when my bood test came back negative, I was still a little hopeful.  2 weeks late and nothing. 3 weeks and nothing.  This was very unusual for me.  Never in my life did I go longer than a few days late.  I tried to stay calm, and realistic, but the woman wanting motherhood inside me kept insisting this could be it! The morning of the 4th week late I woke up as regular. Took a shower, ate, dressed and ready for work. I felt fine.  As I was in the kitchen making my lunch I felt achey in my stomach.  I thought I had to use the bathroom, so I went.  When I was done, I wiped myself and looked.  There was blood. I was bleeding.  My period decided to show up.  I was more worried at this point because I was supposed to go to work and wanted to make sure I took an Ibuprofen before it got out of control.  So I did and rested for a minute and I felt fine.  I was at work, and in the afternoon I started cramping badly.  The medicine was not working and I began to get nauseated and hot. I threw up, and embarrased myself with my rolling around on the floor and my oh God oh Jesus'.  My husband came and got me and I laid in the bed.  I rested. The next day I still felt bad so I stayed home.  As I began to feel better physically, my mind wasn't feeling so good.  I started to think, more and more and more. I thought about the unfairness of it all. Why not me, why her, and her and her.  Why was it late, why did it have to hurt so bad.  What is wrong with me? Will it ever happen?  I spoke with a good friend who gave me some great advice and encouragement.  She listened as I tearfully bore my soul and inner thoughts to her.  She talked to me until I was ok and laughing about other things.  But later on, the emptiness set back in and I was crying.  This went on for a few days.  I spoke with my cousin who is also one of my best friends.  She reinforced what my friend told me.  Her words seemed to lift me up.  She reminded me that it will be ok.  These things occur for different reasons, but all is not lost.  That there are so many ways of achieving the goal. Who cares if its not necessarily the conventional method? There are a lot of women who have dealt with this.  I don't need to feel ashamed or like an outcast.  At the end of the day it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. When we get what we've asked for, it doesn't matter how we got it, it's that we got it. That's all that matters.  So that is why I've written this.  I've been a prisoner to my thoughts for a long time.  I've worried that this secret will shatter the image I present to everyone. That I will become vulnerable and reveal that this poised, in control, life is great person is really somewhat dysfuntional! That everyone will see me as the poor girl that aint having babies.  But I realize I'm not that poor girl. I'm so many other things and that one thing doesn't define me.  And even if it's not from the conventional way, I will still be a mother, one day.  Until then I will be Me, and all that I already am.  Thanks K for that long talk and Quita boo for helping me remember who I am.  Love you guys!  
     Until your day comes, I want you to remember to be beautifully and wonderfully you.  Until next time.

Peace and Blessings
~L.Z.