May 31, 2017

I had a meaningless appointment with the sleep study doc today to discuss my very mild sleep apnea and that we’re not going to treat it because the surgery may be enough to remedy the issue. I knew this. It’s pretty much what we discussed over the phone when I told them my surgery doctor agreed that we didn’t need to do the second sleep study with a cpap machine. I guess they needed relationship closure and needed one last date with me. 

Another frustration today is that the surgeon’s office wants to postpone my surgery to July 6. I’m livid. My whole life and the lives of others are scheduled for the surgery to be June 26. I had to complete all these stupid medical tests and nutrition classes in time for them to get the approval done by June 26. I completed it two weeks earlier. I have borrowed from my 401k, deferred my car payment, and scrimped and saved to pay for my part by the date of surgery. I’ve done my part!!! And the really outrageous part is that it happened without consulting me. They just changed the date. And the girl thought I had just remembered it wrong. Then she saw where it had been changed. Ugh. Trust me, I know when it was supposed to be. 

There is a possibility that it will just move to the hospital he’s scheduled to work at that day that’s an hour away, which is not ideal, but could mean that we stay on schedule. 

As of today, I’ve lost 28 pounds. I’m really struggling with this pre diet, and I’m really concerned I’m gonna fall hard off the wagon before surgery. 

I’m so ready to get this over with. It’s scary, and I’m just ready to do it.


May 29, 2017

Zeke and I went to visit my family this holiday weekend. I often visit my family on 3 day weekends from work. Traveling is kind of hard on my back, so it’s best to have a little longer. It’s a 265 mile trip, so it’s not terribly far, but far enough that a 2 day weekend is a bit too fast a turn around for me to feel like I have had a decent visit. 

Zeke is a pretty good little traveller and general sidekick. We have been to my sister’s house one other time since he has been with me, and that was Thanksgiving weekend. My sister has 3 dogs, so Zeke thinks he’s at Disneyland. My mom does not have any use for pets, so we stay with Sister when we go. 

My sister was somewhat horrified at Zeke’s general behavior, and basically told me that I needed to crack down on him and get him trained. I don’t disagree. 

I have let him be pretty unruly. And the window will someday close on the best time to get him to stop those behaviors. 

I was in such an emotionally rough place when we got him, and I needed him so much. I was so grateful for him at the time we got him that I kinda let him be in charge. 

So hopefully, we’re able to get him trained up quite a bit before my surgery. He’s so wild that we’re pretty concerned about my safety in regards to him for the time of my recovery. 

I’ve been soft. I’ve been weak. 

It’s time to get it together. He’s so cute that I can’t really help it.

It’s time to get bossy and get him trained.
Sidenote: I believe he’s a Jack Russell/ Shih Tzu mix or a Jack Tzu. The interwebs say that this designer mix breed is moderate totoo difficultip to train, so I need to step up my parenting skills in the discipline department. 

I love my sister. I’m so glad that she reminded me of my place in Zeke’s life and all the reasons I need to crack down on him for biting, potty issues, and general bad behavior. It’s time.

This picture is of Zeke and his cousin Princess, and she has almost no use for a hyper, crazy puppy. She was very not amused. 

May 26, 2017

Yesterday, I sent this to Doorway Man. 

Today, I sent him this….

If you were wondering why a delightful person like myself had to wait till she was 36 to get married…


This is why. 

(And yes, I call him Booger in person. He calls me Boo. We’re disgusting.)

May 24, 2017

Puppy blog

So, tonight something wonderful happened.

June bugs. 

They were all in my yard. Mommie took me out to go potty several times, and I was so excited about the June bugs, I forgot to go potty. I would sniff them, and they would jump up. Then I would jump up. It was so much fun. I have the best yard ever! 

Mommie wasn’t sure what kind of bug I was chasing. I’m actually a very excited bug hunter. Bugs are the best toys ever. I like to catch them, then throw them up in the air and catch them again. 

Mommie doesn’t like when I bring any bugs in the house. I thought she would like June bugs, but nope. She also thinks it’s gross to eat bugs, but I think it’s because she’s not eaten very many bugs and doesn’t know how good they are. 

June bugs are the best bugs ever! 

P. S. Mommie took me out a bunch, and still pooped on the carpet. She was not happy. 

May 24, 2017

I’m starting to make lists of things I will need for after surgery. Some items are from Pinterest pins that I’ve saved. Some are from other sources. 

I was writing a list at work today and laughed. 

You might notice the fourth item is a “coffin pillow”. Pretty macabre, huh? There’s a family story on that.

When my younger sister and I were in high school, my mom had a complete hysterectomy. My sister was 14 or 15 at the time, and she tends to over think and worry. We were all very concerned about mom, of course, but Sister was extremely worried, apparently. 

When we went to visit my mom after she was in her hospital room, she had a small pillow that she was holding over her stomach. Now, to get the full effect, you need to know that my mom is very southern with an equally significant southern drawl. 

So when my sister asked her what that pillow was for, mom told her it was her “coughin’ pillow” to my sister’s nervous horror. 

She became instantly upset and demanded that mom not say that, because she was going to be okay. “What kind of hospital is this?!?!” She said with great offense.

It took a little bit for a groggy, anesthetized mother and the rest of us to figure out why Sister was almost hysterical. 

So, I need a coffin pillow. I’m sure they will provide one at the hospital, but one of the pins I read suggested having one to protect your tummy from your seatbelt on the drive home. 

May 22, 2017

I finished my pre surgery workup a week ago with my final nutrition appointment. I’ve really struggled to stay faithful to my goal now that I don’t have to have a weigh in for a while. I guess this is why I need surgery. 

It’s hard to admit that something is so out of your control that you need someone to cut up your organs so that you will be very ill if you overeat. I’d like to say that I’m motivated enough by wanting a baby to see this through, but at some point, this problem became bigger than me. 

And I need help.
I’m not sure when I crossed that line. I’m not sure that anything other than time being up to have a baby and not having access to help would have brought me to this place. I’m not sure there is anything I’ve wanted more. And still I can’t do this of my own willpower. 

It’s funny, because as I’ve walked through life as an obese person, I stayed very educated on bariatric surgery. It was always in my back pocket, in case there was ever a reason that I needed to whip out that weapon and fight obesity. I’ve studied it extensively. Always curious. But I never thought it was for me.

I wonder, had I been able to conceive naturally, if I would have found parenthood too difficult being this big, or if I would have realized that I could leave my children motherless and done it. I think that’s possible. Or would I have done it after a close brush with death or some other horrible disfigurement? I don’t know. 

I’m very stubborn. 

I’m believing that my life will be better because of this, regardless of whether we end up with kids in the deal. 

One of the hard things about infertility is picturing the life you have left if you end up childless. If after all the tests and treatments and heartache, if that place that God put in your heart for the children you long for, if forever left empty.

What do you have left? Do you love your spouse enough, and do they love you enough, that it will be enough? When you’ve spent 40 years of your life knowing that if you never have the job you dreamed of, are financially secure, or anything else you thought you might have or be, you knew that you would be a damn good mother and your kids would know they were loved and wanted.

Someone asked me today if I was happy. That’s such a loaded question. I answered her by saying that almost every dream I ever have had has shattered in front of me. My life is not what I want it to be. Does that mean I’m unhappy? Not exactly. 

Infertility has not stopped me from dreaming. The rough things I’ve walked through have not killed my spirit or my hope that someday I’ll be fulfilled and won’t struggle with that question.

What do you do when life crushes your dreams? You keep dreaming. You keep hoping. You keep pushing on doors. You don’t give up. 

I’m dreaming of a life without obesity. I’m not sure if there will be babies in it. I’m not sure if there will be better jobs in it or more money. But I’m dreaming of it. 

Maybe my faith and ability to dream can only see myself wearing pretty clothes right now that aren’t from an expensive specialty store, but that’s still a dream. A good dream. 

May 21, 2017

Puppy blog

I do not like storms. No, I do not. I’m not really sure what’s going on with all that racket, but I do not like it. I do not like wet grass to potty on. I do not like my hair wet. No. No. No. No. NO! 

I normally like my sleep. But all that wind and thunder and hail beating up against the windows is just not called for. Water the grass if you must, but all that other stuff is just so scary.

Mommie knows when I’m scared. I sleep as close to her as I can most nights. She’s so warm and snuggly. And she pets me in her sleep. Sometimes I steal kisses. It’s a sweet thing we got going here. 

But when it storms, I’m so on edge, that when she pets me, it scares me. I bit my Mommie last night. I didn’t get in trouble, though. She said she was sorry I was so scared. I get in big trouble when I bite normally, but I didn’t last night. 

I really hope this storm goes away soon. It’s really too much for little dogs. I think I’m pretty safe, though. I’m pretty sure I’m pooping in the house today. Oh, Mommie will take me out, but ultimately I decide where I poop. And today, it’s not gonna be on wet grass. 

May 11, 2017

I’m currently on a hiatus from my own infertility journey, while I address my health issues that are preventing us from moving forward with IVF. But, I’m very active in a wonderful infertility support community. I have made incredible friends that I hope to carry with me through the rest of my life. Our motto is: “We grieve together. We celebrate together.” We don’t kick people out when they get pregnant or make a divide between primary and secondary fertility. We believe that the struggles of infertility last longer than getting to that BFP (or big fat positive). Infertility is trauma, stress, and the betrayal of your own body. It can be overcome, but it leaves a mark that it was there. 

Yesterday, I spent the day grieving a loss of one of my favorite infertility sisters with her. It was an early IVF loss, and it was not her first. As someone who has never been pregnant, I can only imagine the disappointment. Last year, I had a false positive, a squinter at best, and for almost 24 hours, I held the excitement and fear and joy of the possibility of new life. The next day, I left work in a panic and hysteria. I later found out through a quantitative beta pregnancy test that I was never pregnant. In that moment, I realized the truth of what an infertile woman who has never conceived wonders about. “Would I take comfort that I could conceive, even if ends in loss?” No, no I wouldn’t. Waiting on that beta was crippling and traumatic. My dreams were crumbling in the most traumatic way I could imagine. I thought that this baby I had so longed fit and already so loved, had been there and now wasn’t. I was lucky. I am lucky. I had a taste of loss, and I never want to partake again. If I never know the joy of having a baby grow in my womb, that’s okay. I don’t want to know loss. 

I hate that it happens so much with so many of my sisters who wait. It’s so unfair. Infertility is stupid. Miscarriage is stupid. 

I wish I could Oprah it up and just “You get a baby!” And “You get a baby!” And just give all these wonderful women the gift that will allow their scars to heal and end the battle we have been fighting. 

Yesterday was a hard day. I’m so inspired by the strength of my sweet infertility sister. She truly is a warrior. If we ever get invaded by zombies, I want to be on her team. She’s fierce and so inspiring. Just hours after her miscarriage yesterday, she was planning her next round of IVF. I hope I can have even half of that level of moxy. 

May 10, 2017

I’m a decent cook. I have more home runs than strike outs in that department. (Look at me and my football references in this post! Hubby will be so proud!) However, when I have a fail in the cooking department, it’s usually pretty bad and usually comical. Last night was no different.

I’ve made spaghetti squash several times in my life, mostly when I was single and attempting to lose weight. Doorway Man hates squash in any form. So, with this new adventure in weight loss, i make spaghetti squash for myself, and he eats pasta prepared with his own loving hands. I told him when we started this that I would not be cooking him anything special. If I’m not allowed to eat it, I’m not touching it.

Yesterday, my beloved told me he wanted to fix me dinner. He doesn’t cook very often, but I always like a night off from my duties. I like cooking nice meals, but the daily, budget friendly quick meals are not very exciting to me. He told me he wanted spaghetti, so I told him that he could fix me some spaghetti squash. If I was going to cheat a little, I was going to eat Texas garlic toast.

So he purchased the squash and other ingredients (sans meat, which plays into the story) and was ready to get started when I got home.

Then he realized there was no meat. So we decided that I would start the squash while he ran back to the store, since it takes so long to cook.

That stupid thing was hard as a rock. I couldn’t cut it no way, no how. In fact, I could hardly prick the stupid thing with my knife! I decided rather than act out the gruesome scenario in my mind resulting from a runaway knife, I would do what any reasonable person would do.

I declared a SPAGHETTI SQUASH EMERGENCY on Facebook.

Then I waited.

But I didn’t have to wait long to get reasonable suggestions. I had funny responses, the ones from people who didn’t really read my post that suggested I cut it open, and the ones telling me to cut slits in it and microwave it.

Yay, internet!

So I poked it a few times in futility and hoped that counted as slits, and popped that baby into the microwave.

By this time hubby was home cooking the other parts of the meal.

5 minutes. Turn. 5 minutes. Turn. One more time…


I was able to save all except the spaghetti squash shrapnel you see there. It actually blew the door open. 

I feel like a culinary genius.

May 9, 2017

There’s alot going on in this picture, but there’s a little nose poking out from under that door. Doorway Man doesn’t have to go to work till after lunch, so he’s catching some zzzz. That means fuzzy butt doesn’t have to go in the kennel but a few hours today. This was my view as I was gathering up my stuff for work. He’s a very devoted worshipper of his Mommie. 

In other news today, I went grocery shopping yesterday. I get sticker shock every time I grocery shop now. My cart was not full at all, and I spent $110 on food for us for the two weeks. I still need to go today to get my protein shake mix and mini guacs. This healthy eating thing is so expensive. I’m hoping once my stomach is the size of a boiled egg, I can save some money.  I’ve learned to be very conscious of money through the lean years we’ve had. Forced habit, I guess. 

Doorway Man is doing really good on his own weight loss journey. At this time, he’s intending to lose his weight without surgery. It’s nice doing this together, even if we’re going about it differently. 

The goal, of course, is to give Zeke more room in the bed. Lol