Okay, so I hate to admit it, but lately I have been a total hypocrite of everything I stand for in my post-recovery life.
I hit third trimester and I am having an extremely hard time accepting my body. And no, not in an “I am starving my baby” kind of way, because no matter what I would never get to that point, but a “wow I am uncomfortable, and may kind of resemble a baby pot belly pig and am hating my body more than usual” way.
I am about to be more honest than I have ever been, so brace-yourself.
This week has been hard and there have definitely been some factors that made it that way. First let me get the humor items out of the way:
It’s Hot AF:
The New York heat defined in one word: brutal. It makes you feel like you are on the verge of losing your mind. Heat hitting you SMACK, hard in the face. Salty sweat, falling down your nose and into your mouth. Mmm-hm. Lovely.
I am walking my daughter to classes and the hot humid air (if you could call that air…) makes my shirt press tightly against my pregnant belly. I am not only hating myself with each stare down at the “buddha” (my belly), but feel wet, maybe even swamp-monster-like from the amount of perspiration exiting my body.
I picture the belly bouncing in slow motion, because the heat takes me to a desert-cacti-zone where the speed would be sloth-like.
The baby is officially the size of a pineapple. Therefore everything feels smothered. I swear I can feel my organs shriveled up in a corner.
Taking a dump, has become even more of a controversial topic now that it is not only something I have to worry about for my daughter, but also for myself. Because of said “smooshed organs” and with the baby taking up the anterior of my stomach, it has been harder to make everything move along, causing major discomfort in my belly zone.
I lie in bed at night picturing the days’ items I’ve eaten, stuck and arranged in different organs since they are all blended together at this point–at least that’s how I picture them.
In all seriousness, I forgot how hard it is being pregnant in terms of having your body change so drastically, especially while being in recovery from ED. First and second trimesters were easy, but third trimester is where the changes are getting more rapid and noticeable.
It’s strange to think, within the past five years of recovery (official rock-bottom date December 5th 2012), I have gone through weight restoration, followed by two pregnancies. That’s a lot of body evolutions in a short period of time.
As much as I hate to admit it, it hasn’t been easy for me. I can preach all day about self-love and the new respect I have for my body since creating my amazing girls (one coming in October), which I do, but I don’t feel body confidence at every second. In fact, I think it’s important to say that I do struggle a lot so others know it’s okay to not feel perfect about your baby bump all the time. I don’t even believe in perfection as a realistic expectation. First thing you learn in recovery from anorexia is about this awesome gray-area, where flaws are accepted and embraced and nothing is black or white (What? Yes, really ED—no one is perfect). In fact, the other day, I was moody and snappier than a snapping turtle on steroids (that’s one angry AF turtle) because I felt so shitty about my body, plus everything hurt! And you know what? That’s okay.
When I complain about my size, I am met with “but you are pregnant and so lucky so don’t complain.” I know I am, but just because I am pregnant and lucky doesn’t mean I can’t express my normal rational body fears.
I would like to make a clear differentiation too. I struggle with how I look, but I do practice total self-love in the way I nourish and care for my body. I am not self-destructing because I am thinking of the beautiful child I am fortunate enough to bear (and the one that is outside my belly looking at me as a role model); and in addition to the above, I would never go there again. I am way too happy in my ED free life to ever look back. I just don’t think I look hot, or even kind of good, but I know I am much more than my body, plus my ED was more about coping and control than actual size and weight loss, as most peoples are.
Bottom line, I am healthy and how I feel about my body is never going to stop me from growing my family—or being the best version of me for them. Also, it is not about acceptance, because I accept every part of me wholeheartedly right now, because it is giving me the best gift in the world—another daughter. But third trimester mamas-to-be I want to make something crystal clear–we are allowed to bitch!
Let’s Talk About Society
It is ironic that our need to be skinny is dictated by the media and society, but then if we have a fear of getting “fat” when we are pregnant, it is considered blasphemous and we are thought of as superficial. Addressing any downsides of being pregnant is frowned upon and seen as taboo, but it shouldn’t be. I bet you most mothers-to-be have insecure days and these so-called “irrational fears.” We have to start supporting, rather than judging, one another so we can talk about these normal fears and make one another feel better, instead of holding the feelings in (https://themighty.com/2017/05/advice-for-a-new-mother-in-eating-disorder-recovery/). In fact, these fears are okay and should be expressed. Holding feelings in is how we find ourselves thinking we are the only ones having these thoughts and we must be messed up– when really a lot of people are feeling similar.
So let’s support each other as women and mothers, and the amazing human beings we are. Let’s promote each other and pick each other up when we are feeling down. You know what? Sometimes it’s okay to bitch even if they are lucky problems. So please bitch away. I will be happy to hear it.