Hello lovelies,

Me again. So, this is my second round of Clomid and I didn’t find the side effects to be very overwhelming.  A little dizzy, a little tired, but not overly emotional or anything. “BONUS!!” I thought.  “I’ll get knocked up right away and it won’t even be that traumatic!” (Well not any more than trying unsuccessfully for two years is already!) However, now that I am starting my second round I have noticed a side effect that I don’t want- Weight gain. I don’t know if it is bloating, or water weight, or what!? All I know is that it is wreaking havoc on my state of mind. Never mind what it is doing to my PANTS! Especially, as I will be taking a lovely two week vacation to the coast next week.  So I have started packing. Got all my cute dresses, shorts and swim suits out of the closet from last summer. I beamed at my adorable choices and marveled at my fashion sense. Then I tried some on. I skipped gleefully to the bathroom to check my fine self out and…

EGAD! Is that ME in the mirror? What the hell happened to my body!?

Some of the shorts wouldn’t do up and I didn’t look cute or sexy in my bikinis. Either of them… and I don’t even own a one piece.  They make my already short legs and body seem positively shrimpish so I avoid them. But what the hell will I wear?! It is literally two weeks straight of boating and beaches and outdoors.  Holy fuck! Tears brimming I tear the clothes from my body. Not that that helps much, looking smoking hot naked isn’t a strong suit right now either. As if my mind wasn’t having enough trouble with my body right now. I already have to deal with the fact that my eggs aren’t optimal… perhaps not even functional! Now what, I have to look like a whale while I do this too?!

GOD! Is it so hard to leave me a sliver of dignity and self worth? Can’t I at least look sexy since I am not pregnant?!

Oh and then there is this… our holiday falls perfectly in line with my ovulation (I knew you were dying to know! *dramatic eye roll*). So of course I had thought up some dreamy visions about what that would mean. All gossamer and muted light, we are relaxing and enjoying ourselves… my feet propped up on the beach and not propped against my headboard. Trying will be fun and spontaneous and exciting! Obviously we will be coming home with a great souvenir! It is basically a “build-a-baby” workshop we are attending, folks! Right… I look back into the mirror and cringe.

“Hubba-hubba you whale of a chicka, let’s get it on?!”  

My poor husband! Really he is fantastic and, somehow, still finds me sexy… but I don’t know how to keep up the “I am confident and feel hot” charade when this is how I look. But here we are… I don’t get a baby, but I DO get to look fat? Thanks nature, you’re a real peach!

Lots of love,

Unpregnant Chicken

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