Getting so much fatter all the time

It’s a long story.

It started when I was a child. My mom is one of those people who could NEVER stay on a diet. She eats uncontrollably. I’m talking 4 chocolate bars while watching a movie and I’d scream at her “If you wanna lose weight you JUST DON’T EAT. It’s THAT simple, mo-om.”

We had a healthy relashionship.

So, all the way through my entire life, she was on a diet because my mom was on a diet. That way I learned about calories – I know how many calories, how much sugar and fat each and everything I eat has and I’m very surprised when people around me (my husband) have no idea of what they’re eating –

I’ve been counting the calories I have in a day to make sure it’s under 1200 since I was 12. Sometimes, when my mom was feeling bad, we did 700.

And that’s how it was until I was 27 and I weight the same thing I did when I was 12.

I do not remember not being hungry. I was always hungry. But I was ok with it, I was used to it and my focus was to never, ever gain weight and be like my mom.

I was never skinny, though. Ever. I never felt comfortable enough to wear the clothes I wanted or to go to the beach in a bikini like the other girls. Nope. Never did that.

Whenever I told people I felt fat and uncomfortable they’d go “You’re crazy” Blah, blah blah. But I did.

Except now, I know that I AM in fact fat AND VERY uncomfortable for real ’cause when I tell people that, they suggest diets and tell me I should really try to lose weight.

Funny thing is, I know I’m fat NOW but this is the way I’ve always felt in the inside. Overweight. And, when I think about it ….I probably wasn’t fat at all. I just couldn’t see that.

When I left the hospital with the girls I was just fine. I was like 5 pounds overweight but my stomach was huge – obviously – so, I figured it’d just go back to normal and take away the 5 pounds with it.

So, I tried really hard to keep the weight down so I’d be back to normal in no time.

After 30 days, my stomach was identical to the day I left the hospital. It hadn’t go back one inch. I felt sad.

I started taking the brestfeeding pill, I went back to work, it didn’t matter if I was thin or fat… I felt like I’d never be me again. So, I ate.

I ate because I was sad. I ate because I was hungry. I ate because I couldn’t control it.

I gained 40 pounds -and counting-.

And I feel like shit.

And I know I’ve said this before, even here. But I figured I should write about it as a public (maybe not THAT public ’cause it’s kind of a blog for myself +5… but public-ish) … where was I? As a PUBLIC STATEMENT that I can do this and that it’d be very embarrassing for me to quit the diet in front of all these 5 people! And I’ll be very inspired by this amazing mom.

This ends now, people.

It just has to.

Visit to the doctor

After sitting on my desk through lunch and having my carbs-free wieners with cheese, I was perfectly content – except of course for the fact that ever since I found out my aunt has ovariun cancer, I’ve been feeling all kinds of pains UNLESS I FORGET TO THINK ABOUT THEM. But this has been my life forever, so there’s nothing I can do about THAT.

This one particular time, when I was 14, I didn’t eat for two weeks because I was so nervous due to a meningites outbreak that was going around that I couldn’t swallow at all. I clearly remember making a huge effort to eat half a yogurt. Since I didn’t eat, my head obviously hurt. I was so dizy I could barely stand up. I freaked at the very thought of getting sick.

So, my mom takes me to this doctor and the doctor says I’m doing it on purpose because I want ATTENTION. I was suffering for days, I couldn’t eat, it was KILLING ME INSIDE and the doctor’s conclusion was that I wanted attention? For real?

And that’s been happening ever since, or even before that.

I have such a great way of controling my body with my mind that I actually “get” sick every time I watch a movie about someone who is sick.

I couldn’t remember a thing for days after watching “Still Alice”.

That’s just my way for seeking for attention, of course. It’s fun and I absolutely do it on purpose.

Good news is I found a doctor that accepted us and I’ll be doing a check up soon. Whenever I find out I’m ok, I just tend to stay away from the thoughts that make my body ache for a few weeks.

If I’m lucky, even months.

My mind and I seriously need to start working together and not against each other.

The nice part was, the girls had a blast. We took the train for the first time and they actually realized they were inside a too-too like Peppa Pig and sang the song!

A train day… Oba!!! #train #livingthedream #toddler #oba

A video posted by Shell Born (@badubop) on Apr 22, 2016 at 11:54am PDT


We also stopped by this adorable poutine place, were we had fries and listened to Rock N Roll music! My husband was thrilled and the girls were actually very well behaved.


A video posted by Shell Born (@badubop) on Apr 22, 2016 at 3:19pm PDT


The blood tests results (all 36 of them) were done in less than 24 hours and despite all the drama, I’m happy to announce that I’ll live!

I needed a day off. I can’t wait for us to buy a car and explore Canada as a family – Well, at least the area around us!

I missed that!

Mommy gets scared too

I’ve changed a lot since the days I had recurrent panic attacks for reasons I couldn’t really put my finger on.

I no longer feel my hands and feet going numb while trying unsuccessfully to breathe, even though I knew there was nothing wrong and it was all in my mind.

When the girls came I had no time to freak. Yet, I still did. Except I did it quietly, inside my head while I held them and breastfed them… as if everything was well inside my crazy, crazy mind.

Today, I was scared.

I was afraid of the monsters in my closet, and I wished to be 5 years old again, so my dad could pick me up and protect me from anything that could ever hurt me in this world or the next.

I realized too many people were not around and too many people were gone for good.

I missed my room.

So, I came home from work and the girls were sleeping. Agatha saw me and exclaimed “MOMMY!!!”.

She held me tight, gave me a kiss and touched my face as she whispered words I didn’t quite understand.

I held her tight, so she knew I was protecting her from everything bad in this world. She feels safe in my arms. She is not afraid of anything when I’m there.

She barely knows she is the one making me feel better.


Sleeping levels

Yesterday, I didn’t worry about attempting to put the girls to bed early, since I didn’t have to wake up early myself the next morning.

So, we were basically playing and watching “Inside Out” for the 50th time and, at one point something MAGICAL happened:

Aurora took my by the hand and walked me to the room. They both hopped into the bed and hugged me, as  we kept watching the movie for about 5minutes and they simply rolled over and fell asleep.

I was appalled by that scene and about how much things had changed.

I remembered the days when they’d cry themselves to sleep, the times when I’d rock them for 3 hours until they finally fell sleep… the days when my mom and I would wake up at least 4 times every night to feed each one of them. Oh, how we danced!

I couldn’t imagine the day when we’d just cuddle and fall asleep watching movies.

It feels amazing.

I absolutely couldn’t imagine the day they’d be playing tea party and I’d be writing this.

I’m a big fan of Katie and I read her blog every day, since I have no record of my first months with my girls. It’s a good reminder that those days where hard. We’ve been through most of the same things and I find it important for me to keep in touch with those hard days… otherwise I might think it’s always been like this and consider having twins again.

I won’t. I couldn’t.

I wish.


How am I doing?

Woudln’t you like to know how do I feel after moving all the way across the world with my husband and 2 babies, strugling to find a job for 7 months, finding an apartment in one week, moving AGAIN and going back to work after so long?

I know I would.

But I don’t have time process that. I do know I’m nervous and scared. I shiver when I get home and my stomach aches during the day. but I have no time to think about that. I just watch the rashes erupt as a reminder that I’m going through lots of changes all at the same time.

I just scratch them hard, as I try to familiarize with the new place, the new furniture and all the things around me that don’t make me feel at home at all.

It’s a perfect place and I would never consider going back, but I’m still far away from feeling safe.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night I wake up and it takes me a while to understand where I am. I keep thinking ” What place is this? Am I back in Brazil?”.

I tend to do that. Waking up very, very disoriented, I mean.

The other day I dreamt I had 3 babies. I opened my eyes, probably still sleeping, and found myself desperately looking around the bed, trying to find my 3rd baby. It must have taken me a few seconds to actually wake up properly and realize I had in fact only two babies and it had always been that way.

I don’t enjoy the way my mind works. Even when everything is fine, I still get panic attacks.

But I’m a mom now and there’s no one around to help us, so, I’ve lost my right to freak out. It’s dinner time, bath time, time to put them to bed, way pass my own bed time and time to go to work again. That’s all there is to it.

It’s lunch time now and I’ve chosen to write this instead. I was hoping I would begin to understand why I am still so nervous and afraid. I’m not sure it worked at all, but it’s nice to think about myself for a while.

You need time to process changes. Even the good ones. But I have no time to do that.

A new kind of “calm”

When the girls were born and they’d cry religiously from 7:30pm ’til midnight every-single-day and then wake up in 2 hours again -crying- all through the night and day, I admit some days I’d beg my husband to take me out for a little bit, which usually didn’t last for longer than 40 minutes. So, my mom would call us and tell us that they were crying desperately and we ran back home…

At that point relaxing meant breathing for 5 minutes away from the crying. I needed to get a way from them – for as terrible as it may sound – because they were always (always) crying or about to cry. And I was making a huge effort to keep them happy – or calm – for a while. A very short while.

I just couldn’t relax. They’d both scream at the same time and be hungry at the same time and I just couldn’t pick them both up and make their bottles and feed them together because I’d have to make them burp at the same time too – which would take about 20 to 40 minutes, otherwise they would throw up (no exception) – and if they DID throw up at the same time, THEN I’d have a problem, because they’d choke at the same time.

See where I come from?

At that point, I developed a condition where I’d be afraid of being alone with them. If you left me alone with them, you’d see me panicking in fetal position most likely later that day (my panic attacks always seem to come after the situation has passed).

So, I kinda associated breathing deeply with the need of being locked in the bathroom and having someone else watching them for me for a couple of minutes. And it was like that for a long time.

But things change.

I’m not saying I’m completely over it, but now that they are two I’m finally beginning to understand that I can relax when I’m alone with them. They won’t freak out or choke because they can hold their necks now. They don’t need to be burped. The colics  days are behind us.

My husband went to Brockville to bring our furniture yesterday and he’s not back yet. And I’m not freaking out. They are watching the minions movie (which I think was kinda lame, but they love it) and I’m writing about it…

Yes, my heart is pounding and I’m not fully relaxed… but I’m learning. I now, I believe I can do this.

I wish I was strong like everyone else sometimes.

Some other times, I like the intensity of my drama.

It comes with being a gemini, I guess.