On becoming healthy and strong…

One dietary supplement at a time….

In light of the 49 kilo factor and the overwhelming sense that I have limited time to pull myself together, I have decided to follow all the advice I’ve ever had about how to get healthy. I have managed to locate the meditation CD’s from under the couch and I’ve even managed to go back to Yoga. The idea of taking Spirulina has come up in the past and currently-suspended aforementioned acupuncturist had also recommended it. So yesterday I went to the discount health food place near my house to get some.

The guy in the health food shop had been drinking. I don’t think this had any particular effect on his advice about the Spirulina, but it was a little disconcerting; you don’t expect insobriety in the middle of the day from someone who’s supposed to be an authority on all things wholesome and pure.

Not having anything else to go on, I did my best to follow his very friendly and slightly longer-and-more-convoluted-than-was-absolutely-necessary explanation about the benefits of the powdered over the capsule form and I left with my jar full of ominous looking dark-green dust.

He had told me it would be most palatable dissolved into a pulpy fruit juice, as opposed to a citrus one which would bring out it’s apparently terrifying flavour. Keen to avoid unnecessary trauma I had bought some apricot nectar on the way home.

The stuff is undeniably green. Deeply, seriously green it is. And on contact with liquid it didn’t so much dissolve as double in size and density and begin crawling up the sides of my drinking glass.

But I managed to swallow it. And apart from when I stupidly clamped down on one of the cold and slimy lumpy bits as it slid past my back teeth, I could barely taste it.

Still in love with coffee

But for all my new found level of commitment to good health I still can’t get over the coffee. I have drastically reduced my intake, but apparently I have to kick the habit completely if I’m serious about giving my body a chance.

It would seem perfectly straightforward. So my reticence raises the question; why the self sabotage?

49 reasons not to get pregnant

So I’ve been on an acupuncturist/ traditional chinese medicine (TCM) practitioner induced diet which, as previously mentioned, involves not drinking coffee. It also involves not eating cheese, not eating anything too spicy or anything that tastes of anything really. It’s very dull and I find it difficult to organise and kind of sad. But I’ve been doing it. Mostly. It’s Sunday morning which means I have allowed myself a home made espresso, which makes me happy. And I figure if it actually makes me feel happy, how bad can it be…? Anyway, my diet has changed and I’ve hugely reduced my fat intake; no yoghurt, no cheese, no butter etc. (no chocolate). And I’ve lost weight. I didn’t weigh that much to begin with; I’ve been about 52 kilos for most of my adult life. And that’s not because I starve myself. I used to do that – I had a serious brush with eating disorders in my teens – but these days I love my food.

Ironically, I can recall that at the age of 16 I thought 49 kilos sounded perfect. As a 35 year old watching her chances of parenthood go down the toilet every month it sounds kind of tragic.

So I’m bringing back butter; it tastes so much better on my vegemite toast. And I’m going to have to think about protein. Maybe even eat some beef. (Cringe). Today I’m going to the health food store to buy some fish oil and some spirulina. And I’m going to investigate cake recipes with rice flour instead of wheat.

We are about to start another month of “trying”. (I am still menstruating at least). It seems like every month there is somthing working against us; either the Big H is out of the country or we’re both too tired and stressed to have sex, or I’ve dropped down to the weight of a pre-pubescent anorexic.

How did all the simple things in life like eating and making babies get so complicated?

Not a real mother

Did you know that all mothers have shoulder length blonde hair? That was what I learned in the waiting room of my audition yesterday. I’m quite sure I won’t be getting this job; being short and dark of hair, flat of chest, as well as compromised of ovary.

I didn’t get any questions about my reproductive acheivements which was a huge relief and a credit to the casting director – who was only interested in what I was doing in front of the camera. In the waiting room though a flustered dad approached me with his registration form in one hand and his tv starlet six year old in the other and said

“Excuse me, are you a real mother?”

He simply wanted to know where he should be waiting; with the actual parents of the children auditioning for kids roles, or with the actors waiting to pretend to be mothers. I told him I was a fake and sent him down the hall.

They paired me with a long blonde haired 9 year old girl and a swaggering, toothy 7 year old boy. Which means I started having kids when I was 26. Which, as we all know, I probably should have. We did our thing and got out of there.

All in all it wasn’t too traumatic actually. My defenses are pretty good so far in the professional context. I did however lose it last night as I finished reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Now there’s a child to trigger the parental instict I fear will never be fulfilled.

oh, the irony

I have an audition for a TV advertisement today. Guess what the role is? “Young mother”. I have had about 10 auditions in the last few months and every single one of them has been for the role of “the young mother”. I know that’s the age group I’m in now. In TV land once you’re over 30 it’s either mother or prostitute. Come to think of it, that pretty much sums up most of the roles I’ve ever played…

I haven’t thought much about it previously, but this morning it’s getting me down. I feel like a fraud and that I just won’t be able to smile sweetly at the camera when they ask me “So, do you have kids?”. “Not yet! Ha ha!” is the correct reply; heaven forbid you give a genuine response, this is the world of advertising after all.

I’ll give it a go. With a bit of luck they won’t ask the question. With a bit of luck they will have the sense to know that as a trained actor I’m actually able to inhabit roles that I have not necessarily experienced in my real life. That’s the whole idea.

Ill let you know how it goes and whether I had to punch anyone.

Oh good; more guilt

My last appointment

So I’m sitting in the acupuncturist’s office – he’s a boy, he’s younger than me, he doesn’t have a family – and he’s telling me what a great record he has with infertility and how “easy” it is. Part of me wants to wring his pretty neck and tell him what an insensitive, naive twerp he is but part of me is so sick of being angry so I decide to smile and surrender my disbelief. It’s just a matter of cleansing my liver and building up my blood energy. And learning to relax, and being happier in my life and letting go of all the thoughts and feelings that don’t serve me anymore yadda yadda yadda. I can do that.

As I’m leaving he asks when I think I’ll be settled into the new apartment. “Hopefully in the next few days” I answer, feeling a little flattened by the image of the bathroom floor that still needs scrubbing in the old place, and the explosion of unmethodically packed and overflowing boxes in the new one. “Right” he says thoughtfully… “because when you think of a soul up there who’s thinking of coming down, and looking for potential parents; they’re probably not going to choose someone who’s living situation isn’t stable and organised, where it’s kind of messy….”

“Yeah…” I say as I pull on my boot and the grief and the guilt swells in my throat. “Thanks. See you next time.”

My next appointment… is with a therapist

So my life’s a mess. I’m messy. My house is messy. I know for a fact that messy people can have children. I’ve seen it done. I am the child of a messy person. But now I’m starting to wonder if I’m doing something in my head that is stopping me from getting pregnant. Is there something about the way I approach my life that is just not conducive to having a baby? Am I just too messed up?

Back!

Oh my god I can’t believe I let that happen! Moving house, loss of internet access, a steady stream of visitors and daily blogging goes completely out the window. It was agonising because I promised myself I’d do it almost daily. I’ll sum up quickly;

Fertility

None to speak of. In fact it’s Ibuprofen and alcohol week again.

Diet

As I predicted I lapsed on the coffee front and had three cups last week. Also eaten more highly processed foods and wheat bread than I’m supposed to.

Yoga

Fell out of rythym almost as soon as I had got into one due to visitors and time limitations brought on by moving house. Must. Go. Back.

Stupid Mysoginist

Australian senator calls female politician unfit because she’s “deliberately barren”

Some of my homemade organic brown rice congee escaped through my nose as I exploded in the general direction of the television yesterday. Who the hell does this fascist think he is?! Oh that’s right; he’s the mouthpiece for what the prime minister of this country actually thinks but hasn’t got the guts to say for himself. Makes perfect sense. This is standard procedure for the cynical, craven Howard government; set up enough fall-guys, all with gauranteed life long pensions regardless of what happens, to get your most divisive and retrograde opinions out there in the social backwaters where they feed the bacteria like so much natural yoghurt in a batch of sourdough -except sourdough is GOOD for you!!! – thus securing the all important redneck/ ultra conservative vote. Then get the offending minion to issue a piss-weak “apology” and distance yourself from the comments just enough to appease the electorate who like to feel politically correct as long as it doesn’t affect their share portfolio. It’s worked for them for years.

And now for my predictable personal perspective…

Julia Gillard points out that she is not in fact “barren” at all, but has made a choice based on her life circumstances not to have children. Good on her. I, on the other hand, am apparently barren and I am choosing (so far) not to pursue every possible avenue available to me in order to get pregnant, or to adopt etc. Does this mean I’m “deliberately” barren and therefore incapable of fulfulling a meaningful role or “understanding the community” I live in? Am I not a real woman if I don’t devote my life and my finances to the pursuit of mother hood? I think not Mr Heffernan, you stupid. little. man.

He’s Back!

Oh what a relief. I didn’t get married to spend weeks at a time by myself. Every time he comes back we say “never again” but we both know there will be a next time.

Now I have to start convincing him that it isn’t really espresso that wakes him up in the morning and allows him to function and perform his demanding job, and that if he just gives the dandelion tea a chance the nausea will pass and he will start to feel better.

Fessing up

I decided I should admit why I’m in such a bad mood. Not that it’s really out of the ordinary, let’s face it, but I can’t help noticing that I’ve been a bit more antsy in the last few days since I, well, gave up the coffee. I say that with great hesitation because I’m sure relapse is imminent, but I haven’t had any for several days now. And the other part of this confession is that the reason I’m torturing myself in this perverse fashion is that I went to see an acupuncturist who feels that he can help with the fertility thing and among the many non-negotiable changes I have to make is cutting out the caffeine. So there it is. Husband has to do it too, but being that he’s STILL away, he doesn’t know it yet. Ha ha.

I honestly went to see this guy about my headaches, but after a long consultation he had diagnosed me as a run-down, stressed-out woman who needs to deal with some long term issues like anxiety, poor digestion and a compromised liver. That all made sense to me, and when I said “yeah and I can’t seem to get pregnant” he said “I’m not surprised”.

So as dangerous as it may seem I’m allowing myself a modicum of hope and going on the horrible diet. And meditating. And doing Yoga. One week down. God only knows how many to go.