Soy = nuts

Dear Diary,

I shared the diet plan with the people at work. They're enthusiastic. You know, I should've started a cult instead. If these people can get enthusiastic about giving up everything that tastes good in their life... surely they'd get enthusiastic about a new religion with lots of sex and giving me half their income. Right? Bloody weirdos.

This morning for breakfast I had half a grapefruit, a bowl of muesli with soy milk, and a glass of orange juice. Soy milk. People drink the stuff voluntarily?? It tastes like bean-flavoured water with some sugar in it. Yuck. And I'm stuck with the stuff for 2 months. I'm nuts, right??

Kid, if you're reading this – LOOK AT WHAT I PUT UP WITH TO GET YOU. I sacrificed everything I value.

The Diet

Dear Diary,

I just talked to John about my diet problem. He collapsed in a pile of laughter. Bastard. He sobered up fast when I reminded him that I do the cooking around here, which means he's on the diet by default. He asked why I couldn't follow the diet at work, then pig out at home. I thought of that, but I couldn't look my fellow dieters in the eye if I did that. Besides, I need realistic leftovers to take in for lunch.

So, I found a sensible and not-too-bad diet... I'm not allowed more than one serve of red meat a week (John's in tears now), but allowed two serves of fish. The other meals are no meat, no dairy (oh, he's wailing...), not many eggs... no white flour, white sugar... dear God, is there ANYTHING left to eat? Or do we just starve for the other 18 meals?

Rollercoaster

I opened my mail tonight to find a news article sent by Mum. Apparently a woman having trouble getting pregnant, succeeded after going on a rollercoaster an hour after having sex.

In Australian theme parks, we'd need to have sex while waiting in line to get ON the rollercoaster.

Hmm

Note to self: Screaming out, "I'm ovulating!" does not turn a man on as much as I thought.

Sailor

To get pregnant, we need to have sex. I realise this. I quite welcomed the idea. But I'm starting to walk like a sailor - bowlegged. Make that a sailor who jogged 50km yesterday and repeatedly fell on his (let's make it her) bum. Very, very carefully.

People at work are starting to ask questions. I told them I've taken up horse-riding. It's practically true.

Tough?

No I'm not. It's been 10 minutes and I just - unintentionally - ate a piece of chocolate. I can't last 10 minutes on this diet. How can I keep it up at work?

The Diets

Dear Diary,

There are a plethora of liver-cleansing diets out there. That's the good bit. The bad bit is, they all SUCK. Big time. No coffee, no chocolate. How do people survive on these diets? Coffee and chocolate is how I get through my workdays.

Deep breaths... calm down. I can do this. Mind over matter. I'm tough.

Sheep

Dear Diary,

Crud. I now have three people joining me on my non-existant liver-cleansing diet.

I have to come up with something – FAST.

Doing it right

Dear Diary,

I've been talking to Sarah, and I've decided to do this properly. Just as if I were really pregnant. No coffee, no alcohol, pregnancy vitamins, the works.

Work is going to be a problem. I'm working 60+ hours a week and going out to the pub once a week. Drinking like a fish. Apparently that's not good even when TRYING to get pregnant. How do I explain suddenly switching to lemonade?

Sarah recommended a sudden health kick. Who on earth is going to believe that I'd go on a health kick? A drinking binge, sure, they'd believe that way too fast. To the child I'm writing this for – don't try that for yourself. I'm stupid, OK?

So – my plan. I tell my workmates that I've been talking to a friend who's into the whole natural medicine thing, and she recommended going on a liver-cleansing diet for a couple of months, since I've been pushing the poor thing pretty hard. Maybe I should try converting a few to my liver-cleansing diet too, just to add veracity.

Blood

Dear Diary,

I'm bleeding. I don't flipping believe it! I'm not pregnant. John thinks I've lost the plot because I burst into tears when I realised. Idiot. Him, not me.

Slow Time

Dear Diary,

One week till I know if I'm pregnant. Whew. This month is going so incredibly slowly. Maybe this is why women worry more about ageing - because sometimes our months feel like years, and we assume our bodies are showing it.

I overheard Sarah talking to Rachel at work yesterday. You're not going to believe your little blank pages, but they were talking about cervical mucous. I don't know what it is. I don't WANT to know what it is and why the heck they were talking about it. Has this pregnancy idea has totally unhinged my best friend? What should I do? Is there a Pregnancy Obsessives Anonymous who could stage an intervention?

Coffee

Dear Diary,

Sarah and Graham are trying for a baby too. I wonder why she didn't tell me before? The same reason I haven't told anyone but her, I guess.

We went for coffee during our lunchbreak. It was great to chat about babies and getting pregnant. Sarah was drinking herbal tea, though, and I asked what happened to the usual latte. Bad for conception? Crud. I thought coffee was only bad during pregnancy, but apparently not - it lowers the chance of conceiving.

This is NOT good. No more coffee? Is a baby really worth 10 months of no coffee?

Meanwhile, John and I are doing our thing every night. John's in HEAVEN. Men.

The Beginning

I got the surprise of my life today. I thought I was surprised when John proposed to me, but this knocked my socks off.

I walked into the lounge after work. John was home, sitting on the couch, TV off, looking solemn. My heart sank. He said, "We need to talk"... and my heart found a new, previously-unexplored depth to sink to.

But get this... he's not having an affair. He didn't get fired.

He wants to start trying for a baby.

I'm so excited. I've decided to start this journal to chart the conception, pregnancy, birth and early childhood of our new family member. She or he can read through it later in life and know just what went on. I wish my mum had done this.

This is all fiction...

Watch this space...

Fictional diary entries coming soon.