It’s so rare that they get to go out anymore

My neighbor Sterling* (and day care provider) was telling me how Tracy* was going to be staying with her & her husband that night so that Tracy’s mom & my Sterling’s son (they’re engaged) could get a night out alone. She was saying how they used to go out all the time but now that the wedding is getting closer they hardly get the chance to go out, limiting it to the weekend and sitters cost so much. I felt my heart sink. I’m Facebook friends with all of them, I know they get to go out every Friday and Saturday without said child, I know that Sterling watches her pretty much day in and day out. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve dropped my kids off to hear “ohhh sweetie be quiet Tracy is still sleeping” because she was still there from the night before.

Straight up y’all, I’m fucking jealous. My family is so fucking far away and even when we flew 1300 miles to meet at a “half way” point with a HUGE 3 bedroom & 3 bathroom timeshare so that they wouldn’t even have to pay for a hotel… they couldn’t fucking be counted on. It pains me to see Sterling exhausted after caring for a twit of a kid and how much Tracy’s mom & Sterling’s son use her precious time. I know she enjoys taking care of Tracy and I know she loves so much. It just hurts that we don’t have that.

It’s not so rare that they go out anymore, they go out every fucking weekend, they have on demand full time day care AND babysitting. My husband and I have gone out sans children in the last three years since our first was born for a total of 9 hours. Six when we were visiting friends on a trip back to California and my son stayed with my stepmom & sister for the afternoon and three while we saw Jeff Dunham after eating pizza with the friends that were watching the kids. That is it. To me THAT is RARE.

So when it comes to seeing my family say they miss me and how I need to “come home” I get mad thinking about it. I want to go home. I want to go back to what is familiar. I want a family support system. I want my kids to know their cousins and make amazing memories. I want my kids to have grandparents that care about them… but then I think… would they? If we moved 1600 miles, sold our home, fought for jobs that paid decent, RENTED because there’s no way we could afford a house there, changed everything…. Would they have that? Would they have family to play with? Or would they be too caught up in their own worlds? Would they have grandparents to care about them or would those grandparents be “done after all the other kids”?

I’m just. I’m jealous for me and sad for my kids, all at the same time.

 

*Names changed for privacy because stalkers exist and I don’t want anyone’s feelings to get hurt.

PCOS & pregnancy

Generally these words don’t belong in a sentence together unless undermining each other. Like in the sentence; PCOS is the reason I’m not pregnant. Which is why I was using it as an “effective birth control method”, well that and my husband not being around, but that was normal with his job. I finally convinced him that his boss was a total douche bag and from what I’d heard around town a “snake in the grass”, that’s not a term you hear everyday and caused great concern for my husband. I found him a better (yet similar) company and did the application for him… ya ya ya… he knew I was doing it though so there’s that. Anyways, he gets the job and I get sick… dant dant dant… baby! While he wants to say this pregnancy arouse from him and his super sperm being around I’m going to give it up to the fact that I was getting healthy and my gut health was getting my PCOS in line. I had been doing research on gut health, and when I say “research” I mean google searches with credibly sourced medical reviews, about gut health after my doctor (who is THE leading specialist in ND for PCOS, mostly because she is the ONLY specialist in ND but that’s not the point) made a comment about how your gut is related to more than they previously considered. Fore most people with PCOS the problem lies with their sugar processing, often mistaken for diabetes since it usually leads to that. It was an offhand comment and something she wanted to look more into but thought that it was worth my time to find a good probiotic and start there, working towards reducing my sugar intake (mostly cutting down on processed foods) which I was all about!

I spent three months trying various 30 day supplies that were $60 and up per month until I said fuck it I’m cheap, I know I’m cheap someone in my mommy group has got to know of one I can get for cheaper. Lo and behold they did and I got an influx of testimonials on how great this ProBio5 is… fuck it, worth a shot. Here’s the kicker with me and any MLM type situation, I go ALL in because DISCOUNTS. So I signed up as an ambassador and all that good shit. I could probably link y’all to my page and get some sort of kickback from the company since you would be my customer, but eff that noise, that’s not why I’m taking this stuff. I’m taking it because it works and I love it and did I mention IT WORKS (hahaha pun intended for my friend that sells It Works stuff). I started dropping weight, my energy was up (until it wasn’t from being pregnant lol), and best of all my PCOS symptoms were disappearing. I didn’t have to shave my mustache, my skin was clearing up, and the kicker was my sex drive kicked up… thus the pregnancy. I saw that it was working but didn’t think for a second that it would help me ovulate. Found out later it was, obviously. So I’m not going to link you or tell you that THIS IS THE ONLY ONE THAT WORKS MY GOD YOU MUST GO GET THIS SPECIFIC ONE but if you think it’s worth a shot, then fucking give it a try, it’s less than a buck a day and that is a shitton cheaper than my fertility drugs were. If you have a friend selling Plexus products then hit them up, they are doing it because they want to have time with their family and that shit is totally respectable. I’m not going to link you to my page because while I have no shame that would be some shameless self promotion. If you find a probiotic out there that works and you feel good, then take that shit. Unlike my foray into essential oils this past year, you can’t get hurt taking a probiotic, it’s just good for your gut

My name is Ella and a probiotic got me knocked up.

When I was sick and gave up

I don’t know how this all happened, I really don’t, I mean I can list it out in order and say “yea that happened” but mentally I can’t wrap my head around how I went from “feeling it” to downright cheating. I remember being really excited about it and in the weeks leading up leaving for FL I felt REALLY good about running, like a legit feeling of “holy shit I can DO this” and totally proud of myself. Totally proud of how far Robin and I had come from like couch to 5k to this… like we could do this shit! My times were getting better, I was focused on my health and getting faster, and then I wasn’t.

I was feeling REALLY shitty and exhausted for no damn reason. Went to the doctor to discuss what was going on in my training since I was done with my physical therapy and my knee felt great …but now I was exhausted out of nowhere and what in the world is WRONG with me… am I dying? She laughed at me, we’re cool like that so don’t get the wrong idea, and jokingly (yet seriously) asked if I was pregnant. HA!! I have PCOS and it took $10k and countless drugs over the course of a year to have my son, not to mention my husband was gone like 6 days out of the week, there was no way… just no. She upped my dosage of anxiety meds and said to just enjoy my vacation, “if you finish you finish”, if not I’m doing better than 90% of the population who don’t even get five thousand steps a day. But I wanted to finish! I wanted to show that my 300+ pound ass could do it! I hold my weight well because while the scale says I’m 52% body fat, I know a good deal of it is muscle. I can lift like a MOFO people, especially with my legs and my back. I’m strong. I can do this…

All things I said until two weeks before the race when I puked during a training run one fateful Saturday morning. I took a pregnancy test on a whim, because why the fuck not, just reassure myself that everything was fine because the doc made her comment and it can’t possibly be an issue. Until it was and the two lines showed up. This must be faulty, I thought, too old to be accurate (we hadn’t been trying so these were all leftover tests from when we were TTC for my son)… I was concerned with the puking and the positive and immediately drove my svety ass to urgent care to get a blood draw confirmation…. Which was just that… confirmation that I was pregnant. SAY WHAT!? Was told to stop the anxiety meds and in the next 48 hours I broke out into hives, terrified I ate something wrong, I overhauled everything in our fridge, by Wednesday the hives were out of control and even my ears were swelling up. This is when the urgent care doctors explained I was having “stress hives”. Fun shit I didn’t know existed. PSA people, stress from an unexpected pregnancy just weeks before you leave for an expensive trip to do a run is some real shit. *the more you know*

 

I still ran, without anxiety meds and endurance drinks, worried about blowing up the way I did with my son I figured I needed to fight the fatigue and keep going. Which I managed to do pretty successfully, until the night before the race when I started puking from what I’m assuming was anxiety without the meds that I usually used to combat it. I had a game plan to pace myself with a friend I was meeting from Cali at the race. He had finished several races with his wife and figured he could help me pace with thousands of people around me. Here’s the thing I didn’t know about runDisney races and learned VERY quickly: corrals are just like farm corrals, you are pinned in with thousands of other people and no one gets a quick start, people slow down RIGHT in front of you, and people will cheer you as they fall behind you. We started the race and had a VERY slow first two miles, at which point we stopped in America at Epcot to drop a deuce. That whole having to poop while running, that shit is ALSO real…because I took the quickest mother of all dumps ever in my life! Noticed that others were stopping too and was so glad I got to the restroom before the line for stalls showed up. I was no fan to the crowded areas as they slowed us down even more but we did manage to stay in front of the “pacers”. Also something I learned about races, they have people that run AT PACE with ballons/t-shirts to let you know that if you’re behind them at the checkpoints (mile 3, 6, and 10 for this race) then you will be picked up and YOU DO NOT FINISH… long story short, if you’re behind them you’re going too fucking slow…. Guess who was behind them at mile marker 2… ME (well Steve too but that’s obvious). So my friend being the good friend that he is says “you’re pregnant just slow down and let them pick you up, you can run again later”. I love Steve, but that was not what I needed to hear. I told him to go on without me and started to walk. He ran like a zombie victim and got WAY ahead of the pacers. I walked for 2 minutes and said fuck it, I can run and I fucking RAN…got to the pacers and saw them just STANDING THERE… like wtf people. I just ran my ass off and y’all are just standing here?

They say, almost in unison, “we were going too fast” followed with the one saying “you’re still ahead of pace, and anyone that gets here in the next 8 minutes, so keep going girl you got this!” I jogged and saw Steve hunched over on the side of the now VERY open road. Amazing how the congestion clears up after mile marker 3… I told him my great news and encouraged him to stay with me… only to hear of his plan “I’m going to mile 5 or 6 then I’m going to cut across the highway and walk the rest of the way”… I argued with him as we jogged. I held my ground that we would finish this the right way and FINISH until mile 5 when the pacers passed us and I felt the urge to vomit myself… at mile 5.5 we pretended to stop at the port-a-potties and crossed to the other side (or as I like to tell myself, to the darkside), we were just as svety as everyone else was at their mile 11. We walked the rest of the way. Cheering others on and at one point stopping to sit on the benches. We waited until his brother in law came up (legit on his mile 12) and I went on with him while Steve waited for his wife to finish with her. I crossed the finish line and while people cheered me I felt like a total fucking failure.

A TOTAL FUCKING FAILURE

I waited for Robin and couldn’t wait to tell her how proud of her I was, because she LEGITIMATELY finished that fucking 13.1 mile run, on her own, kicking ass the entire way. Her strength and persistence is something that I admire about her and even that is a total understatement. I went back to our room and cried in the shower like a total fucking loser. My husband thought I was crying out of either being proud of myself or pain. I used pain (since my legs were on fucking fire) and regret as my reasons for crying. Sucked it up and went about my day. I haven’t been on the treadmill since we got home but that is going to change.

So while I didn’t “finish” finish I did walk a fuckton while in FL as seen by my fitbit report below

 

fitbitreport

So at least there is that. Word to the wise people. Don’t cheat. Totally not worth the feelings of loserdom, just admit that you’re done and tap out… crossing the finish line without earning it…. not cool. Only 5 people knew what really happened with me, they were the real support, while others congratulated me thinking I had done it… only made me feel shittier.

E

Well shitballs

Let’s be clear that not only does weather with small (and possibly overactive toddler) make it nearly impossible to run outside. … it also spreads all kinds of germs so you can’t breathe, let alone breathe while running.  Thus I haven’t been running more than once every one to two weeks since my fall in December.  We are now less than 90 days away from the runDisney event and I’m in full on freak out mode. Add to that anxiety the fact that I don’t own a bathing suit (why would I, ain’t nobody wanna see this mess) and the anxiety heightens. So what do I do. ..
I use my real woman dollars at LB and get a $130 set for $54…. side note. Anyone else find it a little ironic that LB is short for Lane Bryant where us larger (and often taller) ladies shop. I always feel like I’m walking into an over eaters anonymous meeting (not joking I’ve gone to those it’s the feeling walking in that I’m referencing) as this giant “pounds” sign is over my head.
So I have this goal suit, we shall call it MY yellow polka dot bikini. For fucks sake even when I was fit (like 5’11” SD size 8 with a damn 4 pack after little effort) I didn’t dare wear a bikini,  thank you psycho mother for those projected body issues…. so I have this “sorta cute” blue “2 piece” that is basically a tank top with actual boob support and a “skirt”…. I got it in my current size with the hopes that it’ll “move like it’s meant to” in the next 60 days. … cause right now. …it’s a weeeee bit tight.
Okay it’s barely making it over my butt….
So

Belly sags from extra weight and shifting of fat after baby…. gotta fix that as spanx somehow missed the bathing suit for plus size market.

Being good about eating choices and working out every damn day… Even if it’s just stretching with the little guy.
Today it was PiYo core and 10 minute run. I’ve been stuck at a 17 minute mile since October so today’s at what would’ve been 16 minutes was great. I would’ve done the whole mile for tracking purposes but I was already late for pickup at daycare…. cause “work on me” only comes by flexing at work. Sigh

Pray for me to finish. I just want to finish without being carted in by a “cast member”….
#highgoals

Ella