Diary of a Fat Girl

What About the Guy Factor?

Diary of a Fat Girl – Day 10

Warning: This article may not be suitable for men. If a man finds himself reading this article, steer clear of paragraphs 4 – 12.

I just ranted on and on about the woes of my infertility, the creepy guy at the gym, and my deep seeded depression. I did all this in the form of writing with the intention of posting it publicly. But then, I thought about the purpose of this diary. The purpose is to bring humorous inspiration to others. So, I reread the entry I was about to post, and it made me depressed.

Thank you to the tech-savvy person who invented the delete key! 

How can I inspire others with such worthless crap? Yes, I understand that another friend out of a dozen is pregnant. My sister is anxiously awaiting the birth of her third son, and according to the most recent pregnancy test, I am still infertile.

With Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, I have no indicator of a normal cycle. Month by month will go by before I will suffer the pains of menstruation. Sometimes a whole year without that nice little dot we like to call a period would show up on my panty line. I can’t even spell menstruation right since Word informed me it was misspelled.

Oh, to be a healthy woman! 

With so many women complaining about their monthly cycles, it is ironic that I would prefer it after I had spent so much time fighting it ineffectively throughout my puberty years. For these women, every month, they have to carry a purse packed with panty liners, tampons, or pads for the day the period starts, which, by the way, it is never usually on time. It could start the day before the completed 28-day cycle or the day after. 

Even if the period started on the day of the cycle, it doesn’t mean it will begin at a set time. A woman could wake up one morning late for work needing to change the bedding before the stain sets in. She could be sitting peacefully at her desk typing another document when a slight pain in her back or abdomen and the sudden feeling of gush overwhelms her. She could have been on a date with the person she had been pursuing for months and silently thanking the heavens above that she decided not to wear that long white skirt and opted for a black dress at the last minute. If Aunt Flow forgets her monthly gift, it usually only means one thing.

These women are prepared. Every shopping trip consists of stocking their closets with the essentials to see them through those four to seven days of their cycle. They purchase pads, panty liners, and tampons. I purchase pregnancy tests. 

I still calculate my cycle and keep a small stock of the essentials. Then, when Aunt Flow overlooks another visit, I pull out the test and expectantly wait for another negative result. My biggest fear is that I may become pregnant one day, unaware of it, and my baby would ultimately suffer from my neglect. I really hate neglectful mothers. They don’t deserve the child that they gave birth to.

My failure to become a whole woman is reflected in my mood today. Where many women wish they didn’t have to deal with it, I desire it all. I long to be normal and look forward to having a baby of my own. I crave the cramping, headaches, and mood swings that come with the regular cycle. As much as I hate to say this, I look forward to seeing a little bloody stain on my panties. Having a cycle means that I am ovulating a normal-sized egg.

Who would have thought that my greatest concern in life was the size of my egg? That little teeny tiny thing has to be a specific size to be fertilized. If it isn’t bad enough that all those hormones must be in sync, I also have to have the right egg size for ovulation to kick in.

An average woman might think I’m lucky not to get such a mess every month and that they are looking forward to menopause. So they don’t have to deal with it anymore. I’m rolling my eyes because PCOS is similar to menopause in various ways. We experience our hot flashes and cold sweats. Not as common as a menopausal woman, but more common than a childbearing woman. We suffer through mood swings that we can’t explain. We feel happy, and then we snap at someone and cannot understand why they are not happy like us. And then there is the most obvious of all; the lack of our cycles. The one big difference is that women with PCOS are still in their childbearing years and also get to look forward to the full onslaught of menopause. Gee that sounds awesome. Not!

Then, there is the guy factor. We can’t forget to put him in the equation. But first, you must find one that isn’t gay, abusive, drunk, a wuss, or anything else that is undesirable and unsuitable for a family. (The gay guy might work, but trying to get him to sleep with you may be next to impossible!) 

When you do happen to find your guy, then you think about the lifelong commitment. For most women, this means marriage. Once you have decided that he’s the one and you have fallen completely head over heels for him, you begin to start working on building your family. A year later, with no results, you wonder what has gone wrong. Most women immediately blame themselves, saying that they are the problem. It has to be them since they are the ones to carry the baby in their wombs. As a result, we fail to think about the guy we chose. 

It could have been the ball hits that seriously damaged his reproductive system when he and his brother found it comical as children. Maybe it’s the high blood pressure medication that he is on causing a limp experience and weak semen. It could have also been the ultimate tragedy of his failure to tell you that he had a vasectomy in his earlier days because he wanted to have sex without the consequence of pregnancy. 

That last guy, I want to slap him upside the head. Duh! There are more serious things than pregnancy out there! What a moron. That guy deserves everything he has coming to him, and we would be better off without him.

When all is said and done, we still struggle to figure out what is wrong, what we can do to correct this, and whether pregnancy will ever happen to us. Yet, my strength, willpower, and determination to forge ahead amaze me. I encourage others to join me in focusing on the one thing that keeps life going.

 As for my pregnant friends, never allow those of us who are struggling to discourage you from sharing your wonderful news. Your news gives us hope that one day we may experience motherhood’s joys. Some of you are finally able to achieve that success after so many years of failed attempts. I congratulate you and extend my loving arms out to you for the hug that you so deserve. Your hard work, emotional pain, and persistence are other reasons for those of us struggling to continue the pursuit of our ultimate goal.