BMI is bulls**t…

BMI is bulls**t…

Am I right?

It’s a pointless tool used by medical professionals to tell you whether you’re ‘underweight’, ‘healthy’, ‘overweight’, ‘obese’ or ‘morbidly obese’. Yet it was designed nearly 200 years ago by a mathematician with absolutely no medical training and hasn’t really been updated ever since.

Hun, I don’t need a sliding scale to tell me I’m overweight. I’m short and round so of course on the BMI table I’m off the charts (not quite, but you get what I’m saying).

The doctor hasn’t mentioned anything about my weight. No casual conversation about eating healthy or exercise or ‘let’s just check your measurements’. However, we’ve just been struck with a time scale.

3 months of medication and if that doesn’t work we’re then referred for IVF.

Now, I’ve done my research and I’m fully aware there’s a requirement to be under a certain BMI to be eligible for IVF with the NHS. This requirement means I need to shift 3 stone minimum before the New Year. And actually, for the first time ever, I’m ready for that.

I started worrying about my weight when I realised it was out of control in March. My life was just one big binge eating session and I was starting to feel it. Stepped on the scales and shed a single tear and decided I need to start looking after myself. I lost 20lbs, put on 7lbs, lost 5lbs and put on 1lbs over the course of 5 months. I wasn’t too focused, didn’t know what I was working towards and didn’t really feel a sense of purpose.

I have 3 cycles, 3 months of tablets and 3 stone to shift. If that’s not a clear goal I don’t know what is. It’s 17 weeks until the New Year. Broken down that’s 2.5lbs per week and I’m going to do it.

I have to do it.

The tablets might do their thing, the doctor seemed very confident they will. But I would hate for them not to work, us be referred and then be turned down or delayed because I’ve been a little meatball for the last 10 years.

So, if anyone needs me from now until 2020 I’ll either be at work or the gym or crying because I miss all the carby foods and would do anything to dive headfirst in a bag of crisps.

Wish me luck!

It’s funny really…

It’s funny really…

You spend the majority of your teens/early twenties worrying about getting pregnant but when you’re ready to get knocked up it suddenly becomes incredibly difficult.

Maybe you popped a pill daily? Perhaps you took an injection in your butt or the coil in your hoo-haa? Or if you’re like me, you got three implants, (one resulting in surgery after it was broken in half during a bit of rough and tumble) and struggled with the side effects but put up with them for 14 years because you desperately didn’t want to create a little mini-me.

But life changes. All of a sudden you find yourself settled down, married, with a little house and two beautiful cats and the topic of babies crops up. Your implant gets removed, you whip your coil out whilst sipping on wine in the bath (true story) and cancel your pill prescription to prepare your body hormonally.

And then…

Nothing happens.

It’s a tough gig. 20 months of maybes quickly turning in to 20 months of not this time. Promising friends and family that you’re waiting for the right time and it’ll happen when it happens but you’re ok about it. Listening to countless people tell you that it will happen when you least expect it. Telling you to relax and enjoy married life. Everyone means well, you know that deep inside so you smile, agree and quickly change the subject.

I know I’m not alone on this journey. I know there are other people who are on a very similar path but for some reason we just don’t openly talk about it. I wanted to start this blog mainly so I have somewhere to document the highs and the lows but also so we can open up a dialogue about fertility, infertility and the bits in between.

Maybe it’ll happen next month, maybe it’ll be next year or maybe it’ll be in 5 years time. Maybe it’ll happen naturally, maybe we’ll need help along the way or maybe we’ll have to think of other ways of extending our family. Either way I’m ready for this. Together we will tackle this head on.

Rest assured, I’m okay. I promise…