You Women Kick Ass

I want to put a special thank you out there to Starleneg for kicking some rude-commenter butt on my blog.  She said everything I wanted to say but couldn't, since I want my family who reads it to think I'm behaving myself online.  Thank you, thank you for sticking up for me.  And thank you, KerryW, for your comments too.  They reassured and comforted me. And now I turn to ass-kicking of a different variety.  Namely, the kicking of my ass by me.  I went to my fun 80s aerobics class today for the first time in maybe 2 months -- ever since I started the Lupron for the last IVF cycle.  Since the hormones were making me tired, I gave myself permission to not go to the gym, and to take it easy, during that time.  This time around I think I'm going to have to "give myself permission TO go to the gym," so I can at least maintain some physical activity -- not to mention self esteem -- for Cycle #3. Before class I told the teacher that I'd been doing IVF on and off, which was why I was here sometimes and would have to be gone sometimes.  Her face showed a little bit of confusion and horror (I'm exaggerating) as to why I was telling her this, but then she sweetly said that they're just glad to have me when I can make it, and I shouldn't feel bad about coming and going as I need to.  I think I just wanted to register with someone in the room that it wasn't my fault that I had bad attendance or that I was out of shape.  Reminds me of when I used to turn in apology letters ("I'm sorry this sucks so much") with my term papers.  My teachers would give me an A and tell me that I hadn't really needed to apologize, even if it had been a bad paper.  I also wanted to blurt out the thing about IVF. I just want everyone to know.  Some people need secrecy, others need validation and to talk about it. Anyway, whatever was happening with my psyche, my muscles were taking a pounding.  I did low-impact the whole time, like marching in place instead of doing jumping jacks.  But I took great pride in doing the arms just right, exactly like the instructor.  Meanwhile, my face did its slow creep from pink to hot pink to glowing fiery red.  I keep meaning to take a picture of myself in this state.  It's slightly embarrassing but more funny. I tottered out to my car and drove home to my soft couch.  I picked myself up at bedtime and plodded upstairs to bed.  I tried to find a comfortable position, but that turned out to use too many muscles, so I just lay limp and panting, halfway on the bed.  Good girl.  Maybe next time I'll get 3/4 of the way on the bed before I give out completely. In the meantime, I felt skinnier and prettier (despite the face) and healthier and happier.  And proud of myself.  I really need to do this more.  Like weekly instead of quarterly.  It's a new me.  Again.