We’re home from a week in Tennessee and the weather here is miraculously nice & summer-ish.  Usually we drop at least 15 degrees at the Indiana border but not this time. 

My FET is Friday at 8 a.m.  I’m doing well with all shots ‘n’ meds, which are at a peak this week.  4 Prometrium pills a day, one Medrol pill a day – said Medrol is the bitterest, nastiest-tasting pill I’ve ever encountered; two estradiols, incongruously blue, shoved you-know-where.  Estrogen patches at seemingly arbitrary intervals and numbers, progesterone-in-oil shots in the butt, which, capriciously, hurt one day and are painless the next.  And the little Lupron shot in the belly which is always easy.  After tomorrow the Lupron and Medrol are done and it’s mostly progesterone and estrogen. 

I feel very lucky that I had a pregnancy last time, because I feel confident that I’ll know if I become pregnant again.  I never thought I’d join that smug "I just know I’m pregnant" club, and even if I do become pregnant, I still wouldn’t have a lot to be smug about what with the precariousness of it all.  But it’s not a vague "just knowing."  I had definite concrete symptoms last time: 1) odd coming-and-going uterine cramping 2) complete cessation of endometriosis pain and 3) nocturnal orgasm.  That last one was very noticeable, as you can imagine; but not as nice as it sounds.  Anyway, as I approach this FET I feel better about the two week wait, because in my mind it’s a one-week wait.  We’re transferring 2 five-day blasts, if they survive the thaw, and I expect to know within a week.  I will put a lot less of my faith in any pregnancy that may happen, of course; I probably won’t tell a lot of people.  I won’t tell my mother.  I will allow myself as many peesticks as I want – I have six on hand and I hope that’s enough.

In the meantime, I am starting a Big Diet.  I have been getting fatter and some of it’s cycling and some of it’s just me being me and I gave it a lot of thought.  At my wedding, 4 years ago in July, I was a perfectly acceptable 10-ish size 12 type of person, and have probably put back 20 lbs. since then.  Despite the fact that I’m a very healthy eater and a reasonably fit and dedicated exerciser, I am at a loss about how to take this weight off.

The truth is hard.  I have studied so much nutrition that I think most commercial diets are ridiculous.  I’m that person pounding the table saying "A calorie is a calorie!" when people start talking about carb voo-doo and all that Atkins b.s.  I’ve always thought that Weight Watchers is the only sensible option out there.  But I’ve tried WW twice, and I always gain weight.  It’s true; I gained more weight on WW than I would have just floundering along trying to lose on my own.  It’s taken me two tries to admit that and I think I’m done.  This is embarrassing.  For some reason, WW isn’t enough of a change – it’s just like my regular cooking and eating, with some counting; and I am excessively prone to "portion creep" and fancy footwork with my points.  If I worked out today and can add a few points of food, I end up going over and not really getting in the deprivation groove.

There is a groove, there is a magic that kicks in; the excitement of losing weight, and for me a feeling of being independent of food.  Maybe I’m able to shrug off the yoke of food-obsessing, which is as much about agony as it is about joy.  If I have a batch of chocolate chip cookies, I’m in agony about how many to eat; I’m in joy while eating, and I’m in agony again once I stop – either because I want more or because I ate too many.  There are so many "foods" like that: 12 isn’t enough for me, but 13 makes me puke.   Ultimately I have decided those items aren’t really food, they are a drug.  Sometimes during a diet, the structure is the only thing that gives me any refuge from All That.

So, I am about to start a commercial diet.  I’m not going to say its brand name because 1) I’m embarrassed and 2) I don’t want to publicize this company, especially if it doesn’t work.  Rather, if I don’t make it work.  I have lost weight on this particular regime before but I put the weight back for lots of good reasons back then – childhood sexual abuse drama, depression, living on my own for the first time, being noticed by men after being undateably fat for so long. That was then / this is now. 

That getting noticed by men thing is unreal.  One year I was living in an apartment in the city and lost a bunch of weight on some other diet, can’t even remember what it was, and the guy who had lived next door to me for a YEAR stopped in the hall and said "Hiiii…. did you just move in?"  I think I had literally been invisible to him until my shape suddenly looked enough like a sexual being that he noticed me.  I want to hate him but it’s just biology. 

Anyway… The diet is about prepackaged food, although there are a lot of fruits and vegetables that I add.  It’s expensive, but my mandatory exposure to "meetings" and "counselors" is mercifully minimal.  I did enjoy the WW meetings I went to, and got a lot out of it, but I also spent most of my time at those meetings in a state of shame because I was gaining weight every week, or most of them.

Many questions hang in the air, particularly:  Don’t I know that this kind of weight loss is statistically not maintained?  My answer right now is I have to lose weight before I can confront the how-to-maintain it question.  I have never really had the chance.  When I hit that 10-ish size 12 weight – oh, OK, it’s 170, I know it sounds like a lot but on me, 170 looks pretty good – that I was when I walked down the aisle, I was still dieting.  I thought I had at least 10 more to lose and my head was scrambled about what to eat, meaning I was often in a starve-and-binge cycle.  I never allowed myself treats; I could only have them when I allowed a military coup to overthrow the elected government of my food decisions.  Very chaotic.  Lots of men in berets driving tanks in my kitchen. 

I do well with structure.  The best shape I was ever in was when I used to work out with a boot camp group.  I did a one-hour 6:00 a.m. workout Monday-Friday with these zealots for more than three years off and on.  One year I did it all the way through the winter, outdoors.  Pushups, running, situps in the snow, sprints.  I like structure.  I liked marathon training because you either ran your miles that day or you didn’t.  No ambiguity.   Maintaining my weight has been difficult because it’s so hard to be Not Dieting.  All this "eat when you’re hungry / stop when you’re full" is very amorphous to me.  Especially since, during cycling season, I either put on weight unjustly when eating within a healthy range, or my appetite increases.  I can’t tell.  It’s too hard.  I’m just fat, and desperate, and scared. 

Now that I would kill to be the weight that wasn’t good enough for me back then, we’ll just see.  If I can get to it, great.  Right now I just need to take off the infertility pounds before my next cycle, in case I put them on again; at least I can keep it from getting any more cumulative than it is.  If I can enter pregnancy without 20 extra pounds, that will be great, and if this works then I might be able to bust it out again when there is postpartum weight to lose. 

I think I need to just figure out what works for me, even if it sounds crazy.  Because what is supposed to work for me doesn’t.  What might be a disaster for somebody else might be just what I need.  It’s not the first time in my life I’ve been the wrong shaped peg.