This Is Why We Plank
This is why we plank.
I’ve always been someone who has been lucky to be small. I have a fast metabolism, so I am able to eat more then average and still not gain that much weight. This doesn’t mean I was happy with my body. My boobs have always been saggy, my belly floppy, and anything that puts any pressure on my hips creates a lovely muffin top. Over the years, I’ve learned to hide what I see as my bodies flaws with the proper cloths.
I’ve also always been the kind of person who gains 60-70 pounds per pregnancy. When I was a teenager and had my first kids, the weight came off fairly easily, leaving in its wake, even softer flesh and some gnarly stretch marks. When I had Monkey, the weight did not come off.
Whatever. Weight, like age, is just a number. Right? I got rid of a TON of vintage cloths and fetish wear that I knew I would never fit in again. Bygones. Moving on. Plus, we had planned another baby.
IVF is great for people who can’t get pregnant in a more traditional manner. It is however, horrible for your self-esteem. You hear about how old your eggs are and look at statistics for women your age and constantly hear about how well your eggs are doing for a women your age. And then finally, how miscarriages, like the ones you just had, are very common in women your age.
By the end of it, you feel like you should just pull on a cardigan, shove a Kleenex up your sleeve and head out to yell at kids to get off your lawn while you wait for the grim reaper to swing by and pick you up.
Going through IVF means taking time off from any workout regime. And for me? Generally I’ll take any excuse I can get to take time off. I’m not a workout queen. I love the idea of a firm body, but I love eating popcorn and watching trash TV even more. For those who don’t know, this is your workout schedule when you go though infertility treatments:
- Start lupron. Smack anyone who suggests you do anything other then nap. During this time your physical activity will consist of trying to figure out if it’s the lupron or you really are losing your mind.
- Start stims. No exercise other then walking as you don’t want to shake up your swollen, painful, over-stimulated ovaries. Not that you have the energy with all the drugs.
- Egg retrieval. Sleep ALL day waking only to eat and hope.
- Enter your sweet spot. The two to four days between retrieval and transfer when you are actually allowed to exercise. Except, most likely, ALL OF YOUR LADYBITS WILL BE PISSED. So you nap, eat, and hope.
- Transfer! Bedrest for several days. Lots of snacking and napping and trash TV and hope. Fucking hope.
- Two week wait! Light exercise is allowed, not that you will want to do anything to possibly disturb the beautiful little bundles of cells you have in your belly.
- TEST DAY! Big Fat Fucking Negative. Eat All The Things while crying on the couch.
- Recovery. More eating all the things while crying on the couch. This stage lasts as long as it takes to gather the strength and the cash to do it again. Exercise is not an option, unless you consider sobbing an aerobic activity.
- Rinse and repeat until you run out of energy/time/money.
Then you give up/move on and finally lose a little weight and start feeling good about yourself until you see this picture of yourself posted somewhere. My boobs are huge, and lookie that... so is my belly. Fuck you, no, I’m not pregnant. (Sorry for the crappy photo. It was cropped from a large crowded image and I thought having a real candid photo here as a reminder was more important then getting a pretty one.)
This is why I plank. Why do you?