I'm 34 today. Gettin' oooooooooold. But it's cool. I have the rest of my life to fight off aging, having retired my uterus for the duration.
I am and have been to varying degrees of success (and failure! I am the rare woman who's actually managed to GAIN weight since delivering the girls) trying to get back to my fighting weight. I am a long way off. I guess an unexpected consequence of having babies and losing baby is that I have almost no vanity left. Who cares about cute clothes and saggy deflated body parts under the circumstances. It's a little freeing, at least. I care to the extent that D has gotten into very good shape and I want to hold up my end of the bargain, but clearly the circumstances are a little different for me. Nevertheless, a good restrictive diet seems to be in order and will add the benefit of just a little bit of self-torture, which is called for!
This started as an online journal in early 2006. At the time, it was a carefree spot for silly diatribes and the occasional photo. Since then, I got pregnant with mono.amniotic mono.chorionic twins, learned one of our daughters had a heart defect, spent 11 weeks in a hospital room and 29 more days with Eva in the NICU and PICU before losing her. We have two children who are alive and thriving and one who didn't make it. For me, this has become that place in between.
No comments:
Post a Comment