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Adios, August!

31 Aug

I’ve not been a fan of August this year.

Of course there are my Mom’s and sister’s birthdays to celebrate as definite highlights. We won’t mention my parents’ anniversary.


Side note- I cannot believe my baby sister is seventeen years old. Especially since I’m just shy of 10 years older than her. Cheese and rice that makes me feel old.

The beginning of August I got sick. Like 12 straight hours of puking and abdominal pain. This was the first time I had actually thrown up during this pregnancy. Definitely wasn’t the first time I felt like puking, though. I went to the ER per the on call doctor’s advice and was admitted (For the first time in my life) for suspected appendicitis. 36 hours later and no sign of my appendix on ultrasound or MRI it was decided my appendix was not infected and I had ligament stretching.

Ligament stretching my ass. That was unlike any ligament stretching I’ve ever felt. Ligament stretching has never lasted for more than a few seconds and doesn’t hurt THAT badly! Thank you, Mr. Doctor, sir

I got to go home after a night in the hospital and all was well.

For 2.5 weeks when I started having…’gastrointestinal issues’ and running a fever. B headed out, with my blessing, to hang out with the softball team and give their sponsor the trophy they won. I felt like crap on a cracker and texted B asking him to come home. B said he was getting his tab and would be on his way as soon as he could.

I guess I didn’t ask him to come home soon enough. I remember going to the bathroom and walking down the hall back to the living room and starting to feel dizzy. My poor husband walked in the door to find his wife passed out on the floor. I couldn’t make myself move. I couldn’t catch my breath. Stomach cramps like nothing I’d ever felt before.

My second ER visit and hospitalization in 2.5 weeks. At least labor is going to be covered. I’ve definitely met my deductible.

Nugget and I were admitted to the ante partum unit due to severe dehydration and continued tummy troubles. Let me tell you, those nurses and doctors took excellent care of us. Fluids were encouraged and pushed brought every hour and not one person seemed pissed (haha) at having to help me to the bathroom all the time. I wasn’t allowed to go on my own in case I passed out again.  Nugget’s heartbeat was checked every 4 hours and I spent at least 30 minutes on the monitor 2 times a day. My uterus was angry that it was dehydrated and gave me a few warning contractions but no actual, labor contractions.  Thank God! 

Thankfully B and our families were extremely understanding. The bathroom was huge and extremely echo-y. NOT what someone with a musical ass wants to deal with.

Day 3 of our stay the nurse came in the room and told me there was finally a diagnosis. Campylobacter jejuni. The nurse asked if I’d been camping recently and I straight up laughed in her face. I do NOT do nature. Ew. Since I haven’t been camping, drank contaminated water or unpasteurized milk or gone swimming, I must have gotten that organism that decided to make my insides home from some kind of food, probably under cooked meat. And I haven’t eaten meat since…

Can we say EW!!!!!

Day 4 I was able to maintain fluid myself and got to go home! To my own bathroom. And shower. And bed. *Insert contented sigh here*

A week later I’m still trying to kick this invader out of my system.  Had a follow up appointment with my OB today and Nugget looks fabulous. His heart rate is right in the 150s and he’s measuring at 28 weeks despite the fact that I lost 12 lbs in the 2 weeks of the icks and am 25 weeks pregnant. 

Here’s hoping that September is a lot more low key, I spent more time at home and work and Nugget stays put for a while longer!


25 week bumpage



I got a pickle. I got a pickle! I got a pickle hey, hey, hey, hey!

6 Jul



I’m in a pickle.

And a little frustrated with myself.

I had the pleasure of spending the past few days with three of the most adorable kids evah! Oh yeah, and their mom and dad. 🙂

Cute kiddos need to have their cuteness documented for Uncle Brian and Auntie Lo. That means pictures!


This is where the pickle comes in.

I know feel all some of these pictures are uh, less than flattering


Despite losing 30 pounds.

And here’s my pickle.
I know I need to be healthier. Not skinny, but losing (mor

e) weight is part of getting healthy. Dirty words…

I have been working so fricken hard but *I* can’t see the results of my hard work.

I know my body is changing, but all I see when I look in the mirror or at pictures is the arm flab, thunder thighs, chipmunk cheeks and flab-tastic belly.

And I want to give up.

I feel like I’m failing in getting healthy.
If I’m failing despite all the work, what’s the point?

Seriously. Someone, please, tell me what the point is because I can’t see it.


Putting It All Out There

13 Jun

I’m trying to lose weight and get healthy. 

People on twitter know this, but not a whole lot of people I’ve met in real life know what I’m trying to do.

My mom and sisters know.

And that’s about it.

I’m too scared to say it out loud.

Because I’m absolutely terrified I’m going to fail.

I’m not sharing my ups and downs because I’m afraid someone is going to throw it in my face. It’s happened before. Once burned, twice shy.

I’m afraid of not living up to people’s expectations.

My own expectations most of all.

I know I’m wonderfully and fearfully made, that I’m not like anyone else, but there are moments I wish I was.

I wish I had self-control and discipline.

I wish I didn’t have the damn insulin resistance and PCOS.

And the thing that holds me back the most and pisses me off the most?

My brother is losing weight.


And I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up with him.

I’m afraid I won’t get the positive reinforcement I SO desperately need because it is so difficult for me to lose weight.

know how dumb that is for me to think.

I want to bitch slap myself.

In my head I know no one is going to compare me to my brother.

But *I* am.

I know I shouldn’t.

I realize we’re two completely different people.

With different goals.



I can’t get my heart on the same level.

The distance between my head and heart can be so incredibly far sometimes.


I’m not doing this for recognition.

I’m doing it to get HEALTHY.

I’m doing it for me.

For my future family with B.

So, I’m going to put it out there.

I’m actually going to talk about it with friends and family.

I’m going to put it all out on facebook for people I know in real life to see.

I will not be my own worst enemy anymore.

I will not wimp out.

I will do this in my own time.

I will be supported and loved every step of the way.

Most importantly,

I will be successful.

Losses and Gains

24 May

I CANNOT believe May is almost over and June is right around the corner. It blows my mind that 2011 is frigging half gone already! And it got me thinking about all the things that have happened so far.. all the changes to my life, my loved ones and myself. What have you lost, gained or changed so far this year?

In the past six month lots and lots and LOTS of things have changed. I’ve lost quite a bit and I’ve gained more than I ever thought possible.

I’ve gained facebook friends, twitter followers, friendship, love and support of some pretty awesome, fabulous, kick-ass, hilarious, phenomenal Mamavation ladies who shared in my blood, sweat, tears, frustrations, laughter and silliness. These ladies have helped me see hope, gain confidence in myself and my abilities and supported me in losing around 25 lbs.

I’ve gained an infertility diagnosis and a lifelong medical issue. I’ve lost a little bit of hope with each skipped period. Every stick I’ve peed on that comes up with one line takes a smidgen more of my resolve. I’ve gained love, support and understanding from the unlikeliest of people and places. I’ve lost some respect for the people I thought should and could have loved and supported me the most.

I’ve lost my family and my sense of belonging. My parents’ separation has ripped my family apart, completely changing my family unit as I knew it. I’ve lost my sense of home. The place I grew up isn’t where my family lives, it’s where PARTS of my family live, but somehow I’ve gained different and stronger relationships with each of my parents and all of my sisters regardless of how each of us feels about the separation.

I’ve gained anxiety and panic attacks, bouts of depression and an almost debilitating fear the same thing could happen to my little family. I’m fearful of what the future holds for six (7 including B) of us. Leave and cleave has never had more meaning.

I’m easily overwhelmed around my family. I can’t handle hours upon hours of family time like I used to enjoy. That pisses me off.

I’ve become protective of how the separation looks to people on the outside. And people on the inside. I didn’t say anything to anyone about it for a long time. It was a dirty little secret. I’m just starting to gain my voice. I’m mourning the loss of my family. I’m  gaining a renewed faith and strength in my marriage and the knowledge that communication is more important that ever.

I’ve lost a few friends. I now know who I can trust and confide in and who I can’t. I’ve gained a more meaningful relationship with my in-laws. I’ve gained a bond with a SIL that never would have happened without the separation.  For that, I’m thankful.

Through all the losses and gains this past half a year, one thing stands out and means the very most to me. Despite all the emotional ups and downs, crying, complaining, bitching, whining, anxiety, hysteria, hurt and neglect  I’ve gained love, care, strength, compassion, support, understanding and a stronger bond with B. And that’s one thing I never, ever want to lose.

#Mamavation Mondays

14 May

I’ve reached a few SIGNIFICANT milestones in my weight loss journey this week.

This week I’ve worn shorts.

In public.

Multiple times.

I haven’t worn shorts outside of the comforts of my own home since 8th grade.


Yeah, it’s been THAT long.

I haven’t had the confidence in myself to wear shorts. Even when I wore them at home or mowing the lawn I was constantly fiddling with them.

I wasn’t comfortable. My legs were too short and thick. My thighs are too chunky, too jiggly. Damn you chub rub!  My calves looked too big. I do have some SERIOUSLY muscular calves. Of course Hubster has these skinny little bird legs that go on for miles. Ass. But for some reason it works. I’m jealous of his long, lean legs and he’s jealous of my muscular, defined calves. I’ll take it!

It’s been hot in the mitten this week. Like in the 80s humid, sticky, just get out of the shower and feel like you need to get back in, my hair is a GIIIIIIIIIIIIANT frizz ball kind of hot. I bet that visual put you in the mood…  Hot enough where I felt the need to wear shorts. I don’t own any; I had to borrow a pair from my sister.

I button and zipped the shorts, took a deep breath, walked into the hallway and took a look in the full length mirror.

And hawt daym if my legs didn’t look smokin’! Uh huh,  hawt daaaaaym.

My calves are still rock hard muscle, but my thighs are slimming down and toning up. Somehow my thighs being smaller makes my calves look smaller. I don’t know how it works, but it does. I’ll take it! I felt/feel so good about myself that I’m planning on rocking the shorts a lot this summer.

I can’t wear shorts at work. The little old lady I’m working with who reminds me of the Grandma from Beverly Hillbillies keeps her apartment at a tropical 85,000 degrees. My only option other than sweating to death is to wear the capris I’ve had for a few years and struggled to button and zip last year.

Friday I pulled a pair out of the drawer they had been banish to, took a deep cleansing breath and pulled them up. Pulled not shimmied into…a good sign. Button and zipped with the pants with ease! and took a few steps back to take a look in the mirror.

I was totally shocked by what I saw.

I had a flat ass. My butt is toned, firm and round. I have a nice ass. If I do say so myself…! The same pair of pants I dreaded putting on last year hang low on hips and make me look like I have a flat saggy ass.

Not okay.

There are few things I’m proud of on my body and my toned ass and calves are about it. Making these physical attributes look good is not going to work.

I need some summer clothes.

I happened to have a 30% of coupon to one of my favorite clothing stores.

And that means a shopping trip.

ALWAYS a good thing. 

This week’s Mamavation blogging prompt

In your wellness efforts what is the simplest healthy habit that makes you feel most centered after doing it?

I find myself doing a lot of deep, conscious breathing. I have issues with panic attacks. When I feel myself ramping up for one, I take deep, focused breaths. It helps, my breathing slows down, my heart rate comes down, the pounding in my ears fades away and the elephant sitting on my chest starts to go away.

Deep breaths in addition to stretching get me amped up to do just about anything. Hubster makes fun of me, but that’s how I start every morning. And a little extra oxygen before the first cup of coffee is NEVER a bad thing… 

I wrote this blog post while participating in the Mamavation Blogging Carnival for a chance to win a pair of Earth Footwear sandal

#Mamavation Mondays

4 Apr

Cover of "The Godfather (Widescreen Editi...

Cover of The Godfather (Widescreen Edition)

It’s been an AWESOME weekend.

B and I made the trek to his hometown to spend time with Momma and Poppa C, various aunts and uncles and Grandpa C for Grandpa’s 86th birthday celebration weekend. It was a ton of fun. B’s side of the family is great. Poppa C is 100% Italian…spending time with them is like being part of The Family, but without all the busting caps in people’s asses, breaking knee caps, thick Jersey accents and jail time. When it comes to this side of the family, if you don’t think anyone is listening to you, talk louder. There’s always lots of good-natured ball busting, laughter with lots and lots of food.

Oh, the food!

After stepping on the scale for the first time in who knows how long, I am down 17 pounds since February!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That was exactly the push I needed to help me make better choices about the quality and quantity of food I ate this weekend.

Saturday when we got to town we had lunch and we ended up having dinner earlier than planned. I wasn’t as hungry as I normally would be for dinner so I ate smaller portions. A completely foreign concept to me until recently. I passed on the brownies and only ate part of a piece of cake. It was okay cake, but my sister works in a Dutch bakery when she’s home. I’ve been completely spoiled and have turned into a bitch of a cake snob…

Sunday morning I went a little nuts and had French toast, but when Momma C offers to make me breakfast, I’m not going to say no! And it was a great bonding time with just us girls while the boys slept in. Steaks for lunch were delish, but the only thing I got seconds of were the fresh beans and steamed broccoli. And I may or may not have had love affair with melon and fresh strawberries all Sunday afternoon…and Saturday night.

I don’t know if the in-laws are preparing healthier food because they want to, know that eating differently is something I’m striving to do Man, how selfish did that sound… or if I’m seeing healthier options and going for those. Really, all that matters is that it’s happening and I’m fueling my body with food, not fluff. I did drink more than a little pop. I’d gone a whole week without drinking ANY and just got swept up and went back to old habits. Oh well, it’s a new week and I can get back on the no pop wagon tomorrow.

It was an excellent weekend.

That  made it all the harder when I my phone rang this morning and it was B coming out of a seizure. He was lost, confused, disoriented and worried about making it to work. He gets so upset with himself when he has a seizure. I can only imagine how it feels to come back to reality and not know what’s going on, but I don’t think it’s something he should beat himself up for. It’s not like he decides today would be a good day for a seizure. I really wish there was something I could do for him. I hate that he feel so helpless. And that I’m helpless to do anything to help him. It’s like jumping into a pool to save a drowning person and realizing I don’t know how to swim as soon as I hit the water. I REALLY wish there was a magic pill that would just take away the seizures. Trust me, B’s tried almost every seizure medication out there, but he just hasn’t found his magic pill.

It’s a new day, week, month. It can only get better from here. Right?

No Longer a Member of Fatties Anonymous

16 Mar

Hi, my name is Laura. And I’m a fatty.

There is no denying that I’m round, pleasantly plump, fluffy, husky, curvy fat. I’m 5 feet 3 inches tall and over 200 pounds. You do the math. A lot of me is boobs, that I started getting in 2nd grade, but that’s still a lot of woman. Hubster loves the boobs. He doesn’t want them to go anywhere, but anything more than a handful is a waste, right? I’ve got a few handfuls.

I know I’m fat. I’ve accepted it. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I LIKE IT.

I’m over being fat. I’m done being unhappy with the reflection in the mirror. The way I look. The way my clothes fit. Shopping in the maternity section even though I’m not, nor have I ever been, pregnant. That last one is a REAL smack in the face.

I want to be able to buy cute clothes. I want to be able to do things without getting out of breath.  I want to jiggle less. I want to have more energy. Feel better physically and mentally.

 But most of all, I want to be a Mommy. I have some fertility issues (and being overweight definitely doesn’t help), but I’ll be a Mommy one way or another. I want to be the best Mommy I can be. I want to able to run, jump, play, teach my future kidlet(s) proper nutrition and model a healthy life style. I want to life a long, healthy life for myself, my husband and my family. I can’t do that right now. I want to be the best daughter, sister, friend, wife and mom I can possibly be.


I’ve made lifestyle changes. I’m making conscious decisions about what/how much I’m eating. I’m *trying* to slowly cut out the bad stuff. I’m working out. I’m making an effort to get off my (flat, but at the same time jiggly-yes, it does happen) ass and DO things.

I will no longer let my weight define me.

I will no longer walk into a room and desperately search for someone my size.

I will no longer try to be anything and everything for everyone else to compensate for my size and to ‘help’ people like me.

 I will not let my weight hold me back from doing things I want to do and becoming the person I am.

I’m going to do this the healthy way.

I will not revert back to the thin, but incredibly unhealthy ways of my younger days.

I will not let the scale define me.

I define me.

I know this isn’t going to be easy. Or happen overnight. But the things that are worth it rarely are.

Let’s get this journey started!

I wrote this blog post while participating in the Bookieboo and Hayneedle Treadmill blogging program, making me eligible to win a treadmill. For more information on how you can participate, click here.

Down Side to Weight Loss.

23 Feb

I’m sick of being fat, unhealthy, out of shape, etc. So I did something about it. I started working out, cut out the crap from my diet-all the things you’re supposed to do to lose weight and get healthy.

It’s working.

I’ve lost 12 pounds in 2 months. I have more energy. I feel better- mentally and physically. I’m healthier.  My clothes fit differently. All good things.

But, there are downsides to weight loss.

My jeans (and unmentionables) aren’t as snug as they used to be. Meaning I’m CONSTANTLY hitching my pants (and unmentionables) back up. If I don’t, I could double as a plumber. Let’s face it, crack is whack. I don’t want to see your butt crack peeking, or in my case all out staring, out at me. I know you don’t want to see mine.

My jeans are too big. I’m not done losing this extra weight I’ve been carrying around so I’m not willing to dish out money for jeans that are going to be too big sooner rather than later. It’s a waste of money I don’t have to spend. Drawstring/pajama/elastic waist pants have become my new best friend.

And Hubster’s.  

The man is 29 going on 15. Pants-ing me is his new favorite thing to do. He finds it HILARIOUS. Me, not so much… It’s not such a big deal at home (foreplay?).  I’m waiting for the time we’re out in public and the mood to yank my pants from ass to ankles strikes.  I will not be a happy camper.

My fingers, of all places, are getting smaller. I’m losing my hair. I wear my wedding and engagement rings 24/7. What do these three things have in common? I lose a lot of hair in the shower. We took out the drain stopper to the shower to unclog the drain more easily. I wear my rings in the shower. My fingers are smaller. I just about lost my rings down the drain yesterday morning. WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN GOOD!

Regardless of the down sides, I’m not quitting. There’s still a lot more of me to lose. And confidence to gain.

Mamavation Monday 6

21 Feb

Dooooooooooooood. What. A. Week.

I haven’t stepped on a scale in a few weeks. I could feel myself sliding down the slippery eating disorder slope I ventured down in high school. I’m making changes in my life to get HEALTHY. Part of that is losing weight, but that’s only one part of the big picture. I’ve been working out more often and for longer periods of time. I’m drinking water like it’s my job. I’ve been averaging 2 liters of water a day. All the extra water means more frequent bathroom trips which means I’m up and active more. I’m making a conscious effort to move more while working my 12 shifts.

I had my much-anticipated appointment with the doctor this week. I don’t mind going to the doctor, but I’m not so much a fan of getting my blood pressure and weight taken and marked down forever in my chart. Ugh.

 I make sure to get on the scale backwards. I don’t want to know the number. I know it’s higher than it should be, but I DON’T WANT TO KNOW HOW MUCH HIGHER.

My blood pressure gets taken after the scale. Of course my blood pressure is going to be a little higher than it should be. I get nervous when I’m in the office. Up goes my blood pressure. I had high-ish blood pressure the last time I was here and I’m anxious about that. Oh, see that? There it goes again! I just stepped of that d*&$ scale and I’m here about my fertility. I’m kinda tripping balls with anxiety about life in general. Seriously. It’s going to be high.

You could have knocked me over with a feather when the nurse doing my vitals told me my blood pressure was 110/70. (That blood pressure reading is one of the few ‘normal’ things about me.)

Two months ago I started some medications to help my body absorb the insulin it makes and hopefully jump-start my periods and help me regain some fertility. This was my 2 month med check. I didn’t feel like the meds were working. I wasn’t seeing changes. I skipped a monthly cycle, then got a 2 week period. (That was anything but fun) My hair is still falling out. (Bald patches as a 25-year-old woman really take serious hits on your self-esteem.) All of a sudden at 25 the Acne Fairy decided to pay me a visit. (Um, where did that b$&#% come from?!?!)

I was totally discouraged. I know these meds aren’t magic pills that are going to fix things overnight, but I was hoping for at least something.

I got my something. I’m down 12 lbs in 2 months! I actually CAN lose weight! The meds are doing their job, slowly but surely. The doctor tweaked dosage and a few other things, but they’re working. My test showed my levels are evening out and I should be seeing some improvements in the hair loss and acne soon with increased fertility and continued ability for weight loss to follow. I can lose weight, but I have to work for it. It’s not just going to happen all on its own.

Constant weight gain to down 12 lbs. Slim chance of pregnancy to more and more increased fertility. Maybe those pills have a little magic in them after all. Knowing that what I’m doing is working. I’m seeing results. Putting in blood and sweat, making lifestyle changes to be a healthier daughter, sister, friend, wife and eventually mom.  THAT’S what motivates me to get going and keeps me motivated.

**This post is sponsored by SEARS FitStudio and I’m writing this to be entered into a giveaway hosted by Mamavation and sponsored by Sears.**

Today kicks ass!

18 Feb

It’s Friday.

The 2 week-long, never-ending period FINALLY ended.

I’m having an awesome hair day.

I’m wearing pants that didn’t fit two months ago.


The one light I always hit red no matter what time I leave for work was GREEN today!

I’m feeling refreshed and energized despite my lack of sleep last night.

Hubster slept facing me. Meaning his refried beans and chili stank ass were not.

My appointment with the doctor yesterday went very well.

I’m down 12 lbs.

My body IS responding to the meds.

Stress is exaggerating the side effects.

The doctor gave me some tools to reduce stress and a script for Xanax “for when I really feel like I’m going to tear my hair out.”

But I’m not sure if I want to take them.

The meds, and the tweaks just made, are working to the point where the doctor said she would be surprised if I wasn’t pregnant in 6 months. (Holy crap. Holy crap. holy crap.)

Hubster is excited but holy crapping, too.

Just because we can doesn’t meant we will.

Practice makes perfect right?

Today totally kicks ass.