My Story

The chronicle of the journey from infertility, to miscarriage, to finally raising twin girls born in June 2012.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Almost there, no guarantee

Sorry this has kind of turned into a diet blog.  It's temporary, I promise.

So as of this morning, I'm only about half a pound away from my goal.  I still have 9 days to get there, so it's in my grasp!

I emailed my RE nurse and asked her to get someone who is making these decisions to guarantee that once I do the weigh-in at suppression check, that's it.  I can eat like a normal person and I won't be weighed again.  It's pretty obvious that the day I start eating a standard diet again, I'm going to pack on a couple of pounds overnight.  Especially once we add more hormones to the mix.  Once I get that suppression check weigh-in done, I want to start strengthening my body to support a pregnancy, not continue depriving it.

The last thing I want to do is think that I've finished, all is good, go out for a meal, and then have to weigh-in again a week later and having all of my hard work be thrown out the window.  It would be deathly devastating to have to look at myself in the mirror and know that I sacrificed my kids for a fucking cheeseburger.

She called me and said that as of right now, they can't guarantee that.  She's forwarding my email to the doctor, but he's not the final decision maker either.  He's the one fighting the corporation to get some policies in place that will allow them to treat us fat girls.  But because those policies are being written right now, they are changing every 5 minutes. And until they are solid, I can't count on any leeway at any point.

It's pure serendipity that my cycle is right now, that I happen to be right on the borderline of the cut off weight, and that this is the month that the policy war is going down within the clinic.

I told her point blank that if we have to stop my cycle, I want the person or people responsible for that policy, not the front line people like her and my doctor, I want THE person that put it on paper to come into the room and tell me to my face that I'm too fat to be a mother and force him to sit there awkwardly until I stop crying.  Because if some asshole is going to seal my fate without a second thought, the least he can do is sit there and watch the results of that decision.

She'll be calling me tomorrow with an update.


  1. I agree! Faceless, nameless entities should not be able to make decisions that are so life-changing without acknowledging the people behind the numbers.

    Hoping that everything works out in the long run. I hate that you continue to be in limbo, and hope it doesn't last.

    Big hugs,

  2. Keep going, you can do it! I bet that you've lost more than that half a pound by the time you're done, and there won't be any crying involved.

    But if there is, you're darn tootin the guy who makes those decisions should look you in the eye.


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