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?

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?