Oh hey. Happy New Year. We’re all getting older. Our metabolisms are slowing down. It’s getting harder and harder to lose weight every year. Plus, we’re one day closer to death. Cheers!
2018 was a year of preparation. The last 6 months were all about freezing my eggs. I blogged about the decision to start in late June, and since then I had to do 3 rounds of fertility treatments. 3 rounds of hormones, injections, acupuncture, GoPro dildos prodded up my vagina (a.k.a. ultrasounds). It wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t cheap. In the end, I spent over $40,000 and gained 20 pounds. I don’t know the exact weight because I refuse to step on the scale. All I know is that these jeans are not zipping up. But who cares! I’m finally done. Woo-hoo! I have 10 eggs on ice which is what the doctors were aiming for. I can now take a deep breath. Well, lots of little, short breaths since I’m out of shape. But none the less, I am glad I did it. Motherhood, as we know, is important to me. I needed to insure that I will have a baby one day. Okay, I can check that off the list. But fuuuuuck. It’s hard aging as a woman. Can somebody throw me a parade, please?
So now I’m struggling to get out of this egg frozen hell. I mean, hole. I’m striving to get back to… zero. I paid for some of the egg freezing, but I also put some of the expenses on credit cards. I’m back in debt where I have to transfer money from one credit card to the next to the next to the next to the next. <Hears gunshot>
But even more depressing than being broke, I have to accept my body how it is. Right now. God knows I have major body issues that are deeply rooted in childhood trauma. Uggggggh! Although, there is a plus side for taking all these hormones: my breasts have gotten a cup size bigger. So that’s been interesting. Yes, I’ve been feeling myself up a lot more. Is that weird? Umm…that’s a rhetorical question. No need to comment, sir.
I have been hitting the gym. Sorta. I mean, it’s hard after you’ve gained weight. I don’t want to run into certain people. I don’t want men to eye me up and down, calculating how less they want to fuck me. In fact, I don’t want to run into anyone. Is this how people give up on life and also, themselves?
Oh well… I’m already in a slump, and it’s too much work to get out of it. Might as well become obese and surrender to Netflix and Pornhub as my companions. That seems easier. And easy sounds good right now. I need me some easy. Let me dim the lights and masturbate to easy…
Okay, that’s tempting, but no.
So yeah. I did not start off the year with a bang. More like a rooooll…ing out of bed kinda thing. Clumsily stamping out one fire after the next coupled with coming off hormones and being incredibly emotional. But like anything, all this is temporary. The weight, the debt, the feelings…hey, even this life.
It’s been a roller coaster, emotionally, and only a downhill roller coaster financially, but I am happy I did it. I am relieved and sometimes relief can be priceless.
I still intend to meet my soul mate and get knocked up naturally. But before all that happens, I’m taking care of myself. I’m securing my future. Someone needs to. My whole life, I have dreamt of getting saved by a man. But you know what, it feels really great to save myself first.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still looking for a husband, but he doesn’t need to save me.