Oh My Ovaries
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Oh My Ovaries

Want a baby? Better put the biscuits down, then.

The morality of weight loss and infertility is a fucking shitty subject.

I can’t get an appointment with my chosen GP for around 8 weeks or so. The receptionist I’m on hold with is being very kind and suggesting other doctors that I could see in the meantime, and the only thing I want to say is that I’m scared to see a different doctor because they will only blame my miscarriages on my weight. That’s not conjecture — it’s actually happened. That or they don’t believe I was pregnant in the first place, because I’m overweight and have PCOS. I don’t get to remain pregnant long enough for a positive pregnancy test. My pregnancies don’t last longer than six weeks.

I can’t listen to a medical professional tell me that my babies keep dying because I eat three meals a day. I can’t hear that my need for food is killing my babies.

I’ve started listing all the things I eat in a day. This is dangerous territory for me. I have a history of disordered eating, and when I get depressed I either eat nothing, or I eat everything.

Generally speaking, I eat three meals each day. This can fluctuate depending on where I am in my cycle; if I’m ovulating, I’m not hungry. In this case, I’ll likely have my usual breakfast and dinner, but no lunch. Because I’m not hungry. During my period, yes — I snack like a starving mother-bitch. Because I am hungry. The other two weeks of my cycle? It’s pretty much just three meals a day, with the odd biscuit here and there (because why the fuck not?!).

So, overeating isn’t the main issue here.

Let’s look at exercise. Sure, I could do more. I currently do yoga a couple of times a week, and I don’t do this specifically for weight loss — I do it for strengthening my joints (I have fibromyalgia and hypermobility) and for managing my blood pressure and anxiety. I’m more interested in being strong than I am in being skinny.

I’d like to get back into the habit of going swimming, and I will actually get my arse in gear and do this. Swimming works for me because it’s effective exercise but is low impact on my joints. If I did a “heavy” gym session, I’d lose the next two days or so to managing fatigue and pain: I’ve got work to do and bills to pay, so the gym is just not worth it for me.

I love gardening. I dance around my house like a lunatic several times a day.

My point is that I don’t spend all day every day sitting down, barely moving, and stuffing my face (and if you do, and you’re happy with that and comfortable with it then, frankly, more power to you. You do you).

So, I don’t want to see a different doctor. I want to see my doctor, who I trust because she already knows all of the above and never not once has she told me that I cause my own problems because my weight fluctuates so much. And I don’t want to spend my afternoon crying intermittently because it’s really hard to explain to a kind and well-meaning receptionist that seeing a different doctor is potentially going to be devastating.



Tales from a slightly sarcastic, gleefully feminist killjoy.

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Laura-Anne Williams

Director of Get Social. Marketing and feminism are my bag, baby. And cake. Big fan thereof.