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At about six months pregnant with our son, I started to really notice how difficult it was to move baskets of laundry, tantruming one-year olds and bags containing laptops (or diapers) up or down a flight of steps. Additionally, recent high blood sugar levels had resulted in my failing the screening for Gestational Diabetes, my hormone-affected hair was growing out an odd brown color in the front of my head and I had begun to find cellulite in the most unthinkable places of my body (the least of which were my upper arms, which had, infallibly, always been my stand-by best feature).

As if those things were not enough, Read the rest of this entry →