Then along came a psychic...

Isn't it ironic just when you think you have a clear vision of where you are heading, life throws a few curves your way and totally muddles up whatever thoughts you had of where you were supposedly heading?

I want a baby.  I also want to shed the mantle of morbid obesity.

I'm 39.4 freakin' years old, and have NO idea which of these will come first.

Who can blame me for wanting a little guidance?  I'm an analytical person, and I admit that I tend to dive head-first into all sorts of academia and information about any given topic when researching a new concept or idea.  (Can you see yet where this is heading?  Hold on.... I'll  get you there I promise...)

Sooooo... re the baby thing:  I launched myself fully and completely at the world wide web.  Joined sites such as babycenter and groups such as "BBW and TTC".  If you aren't sure about those acronyms, first of all take a moment and thank your creator out loud.  (BBW = big beautiful women, a common acronym for us svelte female types, and TTC = trying to conceive).  Within a fortnight I had amassed all of the information anyone could possibly absorb about the virtues of the reproductive system and exactly how mathematical and precise the business of getting one's self knocked up IS.  (And, in case you didn't know, the statistical probability of getting pregnant is not exactly as simple as doing the horizontal mambo on every second or third night... please don't make me go further into detail here, let's face it we would BOTH regret it, and I tend to prefer not to venture into the whole TMI territory if it can at all be avoided).  My point?  I quickly mapped out a system whereby I suddenly was tracking temperature, ovulation, and other bodily functions that still make me blush.  I downloaded 2 apps and stopped when I found myself searching for a 3rd version of the same.

Add to all of this analysis the issue of my weight.

I investigated options, and then launched myself also fully and completely into the realm of information that exists about this gastric bypass surgery.  Yada yada yada... its complicated but at least I don't have to worry about charting my basal temp.  Insert half-hearted laugh.

Soooo back to my story.  Given that it is a known fact that I am an information hound and tend to dig up whatever I can... is it any wonder that I'd go from the internet to support groups to specialists to whomever I could think of for guidance short of a priest?

That, my friends, is how I ended up at a psychic.


To make a long story short (which come to think of it - one day, I'll probably tell the whole story anyhow but in the interest of time and my awaiting bubble bath, I'm going to keep this to the shorter one), here's the coles notes version of the information he presented to me * without me having even asked a single question*:

1. Your size is pre-determined before you are conceived.
2. The invitation for family and babies is all around me.
3. My dearly departed grandmother (also a big-boned lady) is frankly pissed because I'm even thinking about losing weight - she wants me to be with child ASAP.
4. As if number 3 wasn't weird enough, the cards say surgery won't happen.
5. I'll miscarry my first child, a boy, because I can't carry boys.
6. I'll have 2 girls close together but my parents will die before they are born.

Yeah so I'm stopping at 6 because it still freaks me out. Trust me, this list goes on (and on... and on....).  Part of me is sitting here wondering if the psychic/medium guy knew that I'd be blogging about this down the road... weird.

So I've been wondering about life in general you see.  It's true, my Nanny was a large lady (not nearly as large as I, but large nonetheless).  She had 8 kids and a whole bunch of miscarriages.  She loved me to bits, and I her.

Would she really be pissed at me?  Would she encourage me to ignore my health?  Could it be possible that she really did send some sort of message from beyond to try to convince me to keep on keeping on and to banish the thought of intervening with my body???

Nah. 

Nan, if you're reading this, I'm sorry that I may have offended you.  You were (are?) a beautiful person with a beautiful spirit (which seems to be lingering...).  I'm also sorry that it took me 39 years to get my head screwed on straight enough to be in a position to actually try to conceive.... but here I am.  I want kids, but I also want a life... and in order to live that life I'm going to need to focus on my health and my body.  No disrespect at all intended, but I gotta get this done.  I loved (love?) you every minute of every day, and I could only wish that you might be around to see my alleged offspring (although according to the psychic/medium dude, you seem to be hanging out around me anyhow, which honestly is freaking me out just a bit... any chance you can go sit on the shoulder of one of my cousins who actually has her shit together??)

[exit stage right - the bubble bath awaits]