Today, my friends, was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Today, after 6 months of grueling stomach aches and vomiting I decided to go see the doctor mentioned in my very first post. He of the morbid obesity and alcohol, that is.
I guess I should've expected what was coming to me, especially after stepping on the scale. I figured I had gained about 15 pounds.
Tell her what she's won!
16 pounds of ass-jiggling flab, that's what! Congratulations! Would you like fries with that?
FML.
So anyway, I was hoping that since my hair is falling out, I'm gaining weight for no reason (No, sorry, no Cheetos for me anymore), I feel like poo and I am violently ill several times a week that I could find a solution.
Apparently if I would just lose weight and quit being the big fat turd in the punch bowl I would never have health issues again. I don't even know what to say, really. I'm hurt, sad, frustrated.
Whoever said breastfeeding makes you lose weight is a LIAR!
On the other hand, at least a handful of people are on my side. Here's what my son has to say about the whole ordeal.
"Hello, Police? Mommy's doctor called her fat. You'd better come get him and take him to jail. He can only have bread and water."
"Hey, Mom? Maybe I can pretend I'm sick and you can take me to the doctor so I can tell him not to call you fat."
Forever Fat,
The Fat Mom
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