Return of the 'broids.

Remember how I told you I have to cut out sugar so that my fibroids don't make not pregnant Mel look like about to drop a baby out at any second Mel? Well I forgot to do that. On purpose. That was a bad choice.

I've been slowly weaning Phin and I'm at the point now where he only nurses every few days. One of the major benefits of breastfeeding is it keeps estrogen at bay. Just another AWESOME side effect of nursing.

Fibroids are soo in love with estrogen. More in love than I was with Jonathan Taylor Thomas when I was in my Tiger Beat days. More in love than I was with Leonardo Dicaprio after Romeo and Juliet came out. MORE in love than I was with the lead singer of every single band I saw in highschool and every hot professor I had in college. That's a lot of lovin.


So no breastfeeding means the 'broid is coming out to play. I've been forcing Jared to feel the fist size lump that has returned every night in bed. I already have some new fun souvenirs on my bod from pregnancy and giant protruding (benign) tumor in the gut is not good for the confidence. I just convinced myself that I will not be scared to have my stretch marks out at the beach this summer but I will never get to that point with this.

Why don't I take it out? Can't. Doctor won't do it until I'm done having children because it might make me infertile. Don't worry, I got a second opinion. It and all of its smaller fibroid friends would probably just grow back anyway because I am so young. So very, very young. (Did you hear that Jared? YOUNG!)

So I'm trying again.

I've been studying up on all sorts of supplements that might help. Despite the fact that the website screams SCAM SCAM SCAM YOU FREAKING IDIOT, I'm really close to being desperate enough to buy http://www.fibroidsmiracle.com/Fibroids-Miracle.html?hop=ck188.

It seems it is close to impossible to find a real review of the Fibroids Miracle book. One dude/dudette that reviewed it also submitted a review for erectile dysfunction cream. Not cool Pat. Not cool. Stay tuned for organic recipes filled with yummy yummy things. Like thistle supplements and beans. Lots and lots of beans.

Boobs, Again.

Do you know that my blog got the most views ever after my nursing posts? Do you think the human that got to my Phinny blog after googling "monster boobs" was super disappointed when they got to a pumping post? Google on peeps, nothing to see in these parts.

But I'm not done talking about them. I was terrified of breast feeding. I'm body shy. I didn't know how I would ever possibly feed my child if I was not in the privacy of my own home. I thought I would be skeeved out. I thought everyone else would be. I never, ever, ever thought I could make it a whole year without formula.

Well I did it and I don't care who I made uncomfortable along the way (well maybe a little bit cause it's nice to be nice). Fun fact, there is no faster way to scare off a bunch of smoking, annoying teenagers on a beach then whipping out a boob to feed a babe. These first year Phinny pics are my tribute to nursing. No longer scared.





This last one was from the very beginning and it hurt! Even when he was done. That's why he owes me four Alaskan cruises.

And one of my Phinny Phin's face because you can't see it above.



ps
MONSTER BOOBS, MONSTER BOOBS, MONSTER BOOBS!!

boobs

You know what I hate? HATE. pumping. For those people in the world who think bloggers who talk about the things they hate suck because we should all be positive for the world and our children and karma, we just can’t be friends. There are a lot of things I don’t like in this world and sticking a machine to my poor little boob in a closet that has peeling insulation and towers of filing cabinets threatening to squish me is one of them.

People making pumping noises when I walk by is another. Getting laughed because my boss (and the maintenance guy and my bosses boss, our IT dude, lets not forget the catering lady) walked in on me is also not my favorite. Not having a hour to just eat lunch in a year….that sucks (maybe a little pun intended).

But I’m turning this post around because in less than a month I will be glowy and positive and a fricken good karma magnet because I’m throwing the pump in the river. Not really because that’s littering and it doesn’t belong to me and wouldn’t it be sad if I hit a kayaker.

But halleluiah for Phin’s 1st birthday. To celebrate I will buy myself fun clothes that are not nursing friendly.

And a new swimsuit. Cause I might be the only girl ever to also hate, yeah there’s that word again, big boobs. Sayonara.