Yet another reason nursing should be encouraged*:

Weight Benefit Seen Even if Mothers Are Obese or Have Diabetes

Sept. 26, 2006 — Breastfed babies are less likely to grow into overweight children than those fed formula, even if their mothers are obese or have diabetes, research confirms.

Exclusively breastfed babies had roughly a 34% reduced risk of being overweight during childhood, compared to children exclusively formula-fed, according to a new analysis of data from a study involving more than 15,000 children

Read the rest here.

*No, this does not mean I think the government should ever dictate or badger women into nursing! But FTLOG, a little support would be nice.

…I might as well be paid for what I do normally. What an afternoon.

One friend miscarried and wanted help writing a way to let her family know about it (she’d only just told them). Another is frustrated with her job and working too many hours, but not quite prepared to let her employer know that they’re using her. A third just called (out of the blue — she’s almost more an acquaintance) asking if she could come stay with me for a few days on an emergent basis — it sounds like she’s reached the point of fearing her husband. I have space, so I almost consider it an obligation to help, because I *can.*

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Within the past week, I’ve started to lean more toward getting a Masters degree in Counseling and setting any PhD plans aside until later. When I look at my life, my finances, and my location, it simply makes more sense. After a chat with the Fitness Director at my gym recently, I might also consider adding a personal training certification to that mix. Who knows, maybe instead of chasing the doctorate (yet), I can build a practice that focuses on wellness of the entire individual, physical, mental, and emotional.

Amanda posted about an article in Details magazine — an article in which (according to Amanda) some curvier actresses both past and present were called “fat.” I read Amanda’s post earlier and found myself (without having even clicked through to the details article) just certain that I’d find the article an atrocity.

Not so, not so.

After reading the article, (really, go read it) I see it a different way. When saying “fat is back,” the folks at details aren’t calling the women fat, but rather saying that they have fat on their bodies, a normal, healthy thing for all women. Frankly, I love seeing the return of curves, but I’m biased in that direction. Even when I’m a size four, I have very curvy hips. Since having a baby, I might even have boobs at a size four, too — but I don’t expect to ever learn whether that’s true or not.

It took me years to get here, but I realize now that in MY body, I simply don’t look good at any size lower than a six. Even a six is pushing it a bit. Comparing myself to someone with a stick-straight figure and naturally narrow hipbones is insane. Of *course* that person will wear a zero or two! That’s what their bone structure demands! A size zero on me would look positively anorexic — a strong-boned skeleton in motion. Ick.

True story — the other night, my father commented that I looked great, and asked if I’d lost some weight. After I gave him grief about his phrasing (What? I looked awful before? Perhaps you might say instead, ‘you look thinner; have you lost weight?’), I mentioned that yes, I’d dropped perhaps eight pounds over the past few weeks, and told him what my weight had been at the endocrinologist’s appointment on August 2. His jaw dropped, as did my (bird-boned, narrow-shouldered, no-hips) grandmother’s. You couldn’t *possibly* have weighed that! Where did you put it? And you weight what now? Anatomy lesson time, folks… I carefully explained to both of them that I am naturally quite muscular and strong. I would wear a smaller size now at 130 (not my actual weight…yet) than I did in high school at 110-115 — and look better, too.

Back to my initial point — I now find myself vaguely irritated at Amanda’s initial post. It, in my opinion (YMMV, as always) was misleading as to the nature of the actual article, which expressed hope that a trend toward more healthy, round female bodies will continue.

I’ll drink to that.

I will say this, though — the pig/sparkly shoes photo? Tacky and in bad taste.

Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. I don’t mean *that* kind of body shots. (The very thought of tequila is oddly appealing and retch-inspiring simultaneously.) I’m talking about photos. Not even nekkie ones, just ones that show my entire (clothed) body all at once.

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As if I needed justification? Conveniently, I already had a mom-date on the books for tonight with a group of local gals whom I really like — smart, funny, and educated! If I weren’t working, I’d see them more often…but damn it all…

One gal sent this article with the email titled, “Proof that moms’ nights out are medically necessary:”

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Do you know what really annoys me?

I mean *really* annoys me?

Being treated as if I’m an inactive slug who eats badly, because I’m still not skinny after having a child. Actually, it doesn’t annoy me. It pisses me off. It also hurts, and I find myself questioning this whole “dating” thing because of it.

Where’s this coming from? Here’s where.

Read the rest of this entry »

Update: I really think this is all in my head.

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A couple months ago, I visited with my P.A. about an odd soreness in my left breast. Although he felt nothing out of the ordinary — perhaps fibrocystic tissue — he still forwarded me on for a mammogram. After all, I was hitting 35 in a few short months, so we might as well do it. Tell me how pleasant *that* experience was. After two basic shots on the right and more detailed shots on the left, the tech called me back for additional shots on the right. Then, they ultrasounded the left, in the area where I’d been feeling pain.

In the end, I was told that everything was fine.

I still hurt. If both sides hurt in the same way, or if this were a cyclic/monthly thing, I wouldn’t think much about it. Instead, it’s a stabbing pain that almost feels like it radiates from the lower side, underneath at the chest wall, and only on the left.

Within the past couple weeks, an acquaintance forwarded me some information on Inflammatory Breast Cancer, a very different (and aggressive) form that doesn’t show with lumps…and 85% of the time doesn’t show in mammograms. I’m unsure about its visibility in ultrasound (guess I should look that up). I’m fixating now. I finally viewed the video link she sent yesterday, and now each time I feel the pain on my left side, I wonder.

I’m an adult here. I can be realistic. When I look at the signs and symptoms, the only thing I’m experiencing is the tenderness/pain plus a nagging feeling that something isn’t quite right. But, then again, what I read says that pain is usually a first symptom, and other symptoms are often absent until the condition is rather advanced.

This is just neurosis, and I know it…at least I hope it is. I’m probably just searching for some way, any way, to put off getting stuff done.

That’s all…just needed to get this out of my head so I can focus on work instead.

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As a PSA (or maybe just so that you can join me in my hypochondria), here’s the video. I had no idea this form of cancer even existed.

Windows Media Player required to view this.
To install, click here.

Here’s a link to the original KOMO/Seattle news story. If you need/want the code to embed the video in your blog, drop me a comment.

I remembered that Effexor does wonky things to my appetite. Last time I took Effexor, I dropped 7-1/2 pounds during the two weeks I was on a sample package (142 to 134.5). So, my starting to feel ambivalent about food (I want to physically eat — comfort — but the idea of food sounds icky) is not a surprise.

I had forgotten, however, that effexor makes me yawm. Don’t get me wrong; it does *not* make me tired. But I yawn. Constantly. I just keep needing more air.

This morning, I saw my physician assistant and got the ball rolling on the medical side of the what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-me puzzle. He walked into the room, glanced at the chart, looked at me, and commented, “you’ve picked up some weight, eh?” That’s all it took for the tears to start. I hate crying when I’m trying to communicate. Hate. It.

Anyway, he agreed that I’m sounding symptomatic of thyroid disorder, and that a blood panel was in order. He also gave me 4 weeks’ worth of Effexor samples — I expect to stay on the lowest dosage as much as possible (that’s where I was even before Maya), but to make it four weeks until the re-check, I’ll likely have to step up from 37.5mg to 75mg. We reviewed my previous thyroid results from December 2001, and I was in the normal range (low end, but not extreme) for TSH, low-normal for T4. With 4-1/2 years having passed and a baby in the interim, it’ll be interesting to see how it looks this time around.

As much as it would suck to take synthroid for the rest of my days, it would be a relief to have some explanation for why my weight keeps steadily climbing, even while I workout 4-5 days per week (at least) and do challenging, 3+ hour hikes. My diet isn’t perfect by any stretch — especially not this week, as I’ve willfully self-medicated — but it’s normally quite healthful. Doing “all the right things” to see no results has been exasperating. A nice bonus would be to stay awake at 3pm without the help of coffee.

Weight…granted, this is post-breakfast and coffee and fully dressed…but the doctor’s scale showed me a full ten (TEN!) pounds higher than the last time I weighed at home. TEN!

On an unrelated note, I think looking like a Barbie doll might be a prerequisite for the job of pharmaceutical rep. One gal arrived at the same time I did. She was about ten feet tall, skinny (I’m talking super-model skinny), and blonde. As we waited, another gal emerged with the same stats, just different clothing. Now I understand why I had no chance at the pharma jobs I applied for as a newbie business school grad. I’m short and brunette!

I’ve jumped off the bandwagon after one week, four days of ingesting flavorless calories. Why, you might ask? (Or maybe you don’t.) If the SLD tricks were working to lower your appetite — and even change your cravings to more healthful food — why stop?

Mental health, baby.

As I posted before, taking oil had some severe effects on my mood — effects that reminded me of how I physically felt during full-blown depression. While the sugar water didn’t have an adverse effect at first, it started to after about the first week. Given the choice between glorious thinness (uh, yeah) and mental stability, I’ll choose stability every time. Add to that, I not only didn’t lose weight; I gained a pound or so, plus I feel “squishier” (technical term, that).

For all of those folks who find SLD to work, more power to ya. For me, it’s not turning out to be an option.

I need to get back to studying for this Saturday’s GRE. More later, perhaps. Then again, maybe not.