"It's not for us to judge. We're just here to provide comfort and support while you come to grips with what a despicable thing you've done."

Itchy nose, achy back, sore boobs, super weird vivid dreams, no new zits, I swear I felt ovulation....perfect combination for being knocked up right? Apparently no as I started 2 days early. What the fuck? Did I just go all TMI on you in the first 2 sentences?! You should know by now I don't deal with subtleties. Or metaphors, or painting pictures with words. Or appropriate grammar. Anyway, not knocked up so today's my day to be sad about it. Tomorrow I will be fine. I'm confused about the 2 days early thing though.

I promise this ties in. J and I use his parents' iTunes accounts as we have yet to have a computer that allows such things to be downloaded upon it. It's not a big deal since we don't buy music and only get apps that are free. But because we're the secondary phones on the accounts everything we get, they get immediately. I've been seriously considering getting some sort of period app/tracker thing and the only thing that's been stopping me is knowing that it will also automatically show up on my FiL's phone too. Awkward. Luckily he'll just shake his head and delete it so I guess it's time to move on. If anyone has any recommendations on which one is good, or bad for that matter I'm all ears. I need to keep better track of things.

Moving on.

My treadmill is in my bedroom, and due to my no central ac having ass, it gets pretty hot there during the summer. We do this convoluted fan set up that makes my house sound like a wind tunnel and it makes the place livable, but not joggable. So I can't use my treadmill during the summer. Otherwise I'd puke before the first half mile and that's just not cool with me. So I've been doing work out videos instead. I've got this Pilate's one I've mentioned before that I still really like. It's arm flingy and twisty so it really helps get the kinks out when I start tightening up. I'd also been doing Jillian Michaels 30 day shred (I think? I'll have to double check.) that I appreciated as well. Both borrowed from my friend, probably I should just buy her some new copies and keep the ones I've had forever. Anyway, she texted me last month some time with a picture of Jillian's killer buns and thighs asking if I wanted her to get it for me. We'd been discussing how my upper body, while not very strong, looks fine, it's the booty/hip/thigh area I have a lot of trouble with, so I said absolutely! Thank you!

You guys, I love this work out so much. I'd been doing level 1 for maybe 3 weeks, and with the exception of the loud groaning noises every time I sat on or got up from the floor, I hadn't noticed any physical differences. So I thought I could try level 2. Here's where we hit a wall; level 2 spends alot of time aggravating, and making worse my 'bitch you old' injuries. I was really sad, thinking I'd gone as far as I could, and that maybe I am.....old. You know, injured, incapable of increasing the effort. So I stewed on this for about a week, doing level one, and the other workout video. Then I realized, that maybe level 3 could still be harder, but in different ways. Just because level 2 was impossible didn't mean she made the level 3 work out in the same way. So I tried it last night.

I almost cried. Not because it was so hard, (it really fucking was) but because I did it! And I could do it again! Not tonight. Tonight I'm going to have to do Pilate's, after Advil, because lawd I'm sore. But a different night I can do it again. I can throw it into my rotation, and improve! Get stronger! Win an arm wrestling match! Well....make someone pause and consider for a second before they laugh if an arm wrestling match is brought up!

I have been exercising all of this time out of necessity. It is the only thing that can even come close to leveling out my anxiety and depression. But last night instead of doing it to survive I was doing it to be happy, to get that feeling of accomplishment I used to get from dancing. (Damn my 'bitch you old' injuries!) It was a very good moment for me, and the first hint that I'm forgiving my body for it's part in not bringing home a baby.

Intellectually I'm completely aware blame isn't helping anything, my body is not a sinister villain plotting against itself. But it's hard not to feel bitterness toward yourself when it's your genes, or womb, or whatever the hell is going on, that's keeping me from another living baby. Not to mention, there's almost a disconnect after becoming pregnant. I don't know how to explain it. Growing and feeding another human takes away some claim I have on it, and it continues with trying to conceive again, another attempt to lend itself out. I don't get to call the shots if I have any chance of getting the ultimate goal; pregnancy, I have to follow the whims of my uterus. It feels like it really hasn't been mine in quite a long time.

I think it's time to reclaim it. I still have to follow the rules imposed on me by various inner workings, but that doesn't mean I can't get this body to do what I want it to as well. As long as there's plenty of Advil around. And stretching. Lots of stretching.