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A mere woman is all that stands between me and my opportunity to undergo IVF. I’m tired of dealing with her and don’t appreciate her negativity. She manages to thwart my efforts often; and to what end, I do not know. What can I tell you? She’s a real bitch and has got to go.

I see her pathetic face daily and cringe. It’s worse on Saturdays. That’s when I weigh in. Finally, after months of testing, waiting, scrounging up the money, and getting medically and financially cleared, we are scheduled for the September 2012 IVF cycle. The only catch—I must have a BMI that’s less than 40, which will be determined a week prior to my scheduled baseline.

Now, only I stand in my way. I am terrified.

Weight gain has always been a hot button issue for me. I thought I struggled with it as a child and teenager, but it wasn’t until my twenties and now thirties that it has really become a problem. My BMI is just barely at 40. (Morbidly obese. And don’t I know it.) If I can manage to lose just five (ideally 10) pounds in the next four (HA!) weeks, I will make it. And our baseline appointment will still be on. If I don’t, I do not know and haven’t had the courage to ask what would happen next. Would we be out all that money? Could we postpone to the next cycle?

As an intelligent, creative, thoughtful woman, I know what I should be doing. Let’s face it. Weight loss is simple, stupid. Eat less. Move more. So why in the hell does this bitch still ignore me? Why indeed…