Crazy infertile lady

I was sitting in the living-room in my pyjamas before dawn this morning, drinking tea and seeing if I could get both eyes to stay open at the same time, and listening to the radio, or, at least, not actively tuning the radio out, when a story came on about how obesity is the new grand blame-catcher for fatal complications in pregnancy and labour. It’s the sort of story my ears insist on hearing even as the rest of me sings ‘lalala not listening not listening,’ – I am an infertile fat woman, after all.

At the end of the story, the radio also mentioned the 19-and-a-half stone (that’s about 270 pounds) woman who is exercising to reduce the risks to herself and her pregnancy. I have nothing but best wishes for her, and her family, and her pregnancy, which I hope stays as healthy as can be, and I admire her for allowing herself to be interviewed on the subject. I must emphasize that very strongly.

Because on hearing that she was pregnant at over 19 stone, and that she had been even heavier when she bore her first child – I’m so sorry, but rage, pure, acid rage nearly blew the top of my head right off. I think I sat quite still for several minutes, leaning my head on H’s torso as he stood beside me and stroked my hair (bless him) and tried and tried to force down the outraged sense of unfairness that was half-choking me. 19 stone! If you took me, measured out something over a third of my entire body weight in solid lard, and poured that back into my trousers with me, I’d be that size. And I am told again and again that my weight is preventing me from getting pregnant. My weight! How the hell can my weight be such a problem for me? I’m nowhere near the size of other lucky, lucky women. But I’m the one whose weight is stopping her getting pregnant.

It’s amazing what triggers the dagger-to-the-heart, isn’t it? I’ve been placidly enjoying seeing pregnant ladies, and adorable infants, and hearing gorgeous little tales about how cute my niece is, or my new cousin is, without so much as a twinge (wistfulness, I’ll confess to). One perfectly nice lady not losing her fertility as she struggles with her weight, and I am all Bitter McTwisted of Clan Unreasonable.

And I can’t get over it. I am something like 80 pounds lighter than her. I am the one with a weight-related fertility problem.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Me, I think doctors talk much out of their arses on this subject. I have to think this, or my head will detonate. Which is untidy.


6 responses to “Crazy infertile lady

  • deanna

    Oh-holy-crap, do I EVER hear you on this one. Any time we come across a cigarette-puffing father with his brood of nicotine-bred-babies, I just want to SCREAM. It sucks being the ones who are in that undesirable percentage.

    You’re right—you can be having a great day and living (nearly) unphased by abundant pregnancies, but then there’s that ONE story that goes too far.

    *hugs to you*

  • geohde

    I’m sorry that you had a daggers-to-vital-organs moment.

    Not crazy at all!


  • megan

    it seems as if infertility is the new hip problem to through lifestyle “solutions” to. my mom is currently saving some newsweek issue for me about diet and infertility. goodness. can’t it be enough that our bodies are simply not cooperating?

  • Amanda

    I’m so sorry.


  • Jackie

    I think that Drs have not yet figured out a clever way to talk to patients about metabolic problems clearly delineating away from obesity without metabolic problems. There are overweight and obese individuals who are not diabetic, prediabetic, PCOS, or syndrome X (metabolic syndrome). However a patient who is overweight or obese and does have one of these metabolic issues doesn’t always have metabolic issues discussed with them but instead is immediately counseled to lose weight-which is terribly difficult or simply doesn’t work very well because of someone’s biology/genetic makeup. It’s a kick in the pants because of all the issues one may already have about being overweight and one or several insensitive doctors essentially throw the blame back on the patient who has to wage a war with her body, with diets, exercise, and pills for it to maybe bend to her will? I totally understand your rage.

  • PamelaJeanne

    When I hear about obese women falling pregnant it makes me see purple. I can fully appreciate your rage.

    (Okay, now I’m off to try to get festive — my dh’s nice as pie aunt and uncle are arriving from Virginia — pronounced in a beautiful southern drawl so that the state sounds like it should be spelled starting with an “F”…)

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