Sometimes I write and just don’t post it.  This is one of those rants:

I have to admit that I think about writing almost every day. I don’t (obviously) but I think about it. Sometimes I can be so lazy. Today I have an actual excuse since I am recovering from surgery. I had an outpatient procedure done to see if I have Endometriosis, which I am happy to report that I don’t. Instead I had some sort of infection which could have happened six months ago or six years ago that left scarring which the doctor felt could be impeding my ability to get pregnant. He seemed to Randy quite pleased with the outcome and said he was glad we agreed to do it. I find myself kind of back where we started. I feel excited at the possibility of becoming pregnant again and despite myself feel almost giddy at the idea of saying the words again. Nothing like a little good news to get me right back on the roller coaster.

I have been saying lately that I am not even sure I want to go back again. I was just a a three-year-old birthday party and we were laughing at the prospect of keeping Playmobil things away from a baby. I barely got all of the electrical sockets covered for Ellen! I have said before and will say again that I think every mom has a thing that she fears, often irrationally. I have a friend who is scared of her child drowning, another one hates parking lots. Mine is stairs, yet I never got a baby gate. Only this year did Ellen actually fall down the stairs and when she did I was remarkably calm. I am overwhelmed through all of this that she needs a sibling.

I have no full length mirrors in my house and while this is not intentional, the more time goes by the more I actually enjoy this little design element. That is…until I try to shop for any clothes. That is when it becomes no less than pure SHOCK to stare slack-jawed into the glaring truth of my entirety. We have lived this way for nearly 6 years, which means that the last time I had 24 hour access to a full length mirror was before I had Ellen. Yeah. Before stretch marks, sagging breasts and that large pillow below my bellybutton. Sarah refers to this part of our anatomy as a “food baby”. I think this is a rather accurate description. These are all of the thoughts that I have as a woman that, as a mother, I cannot express. We live in a society that applauds women with serious disorders and shames those who are overweight. I love the quote Camryn Manheim gave in her book Wake up! I’m Fat! which was “…over who’s weight, exactly?”

In the end, I am just trying to make good decisions and keep myself afloat. Oh, and knitting. And sewing. More on that later.

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