Accepting My Body

IMG_0303

I look down in the shower at my body.

The water is drip-dropping down my hair, off my nose, down my torso—to my toes covered by a layer of skin—my old friend, fat.

This body has been through the ringer. All bodies have. But you can always find the beauty in the dark. You just have to not give up and keep looking.

Fat, ugh, THAT hideous word.

I can be frank with you. I have NEVER liked you. I have gotten to the point in my recovery journey where sometimes you fall out of memory, but then I look down and see you. You are kind of like that mean relative who I never want to see because you make me feel bad about myself but we are attached by common family so you pop-in every so often. Yes, that would be YOU fat.

“I feel fat.”

“Do I look fat?”

“Gosh, I look fat in these!” I would say your name way too often for many years. To myself, to my family, to anyone I could confide in.

When I first found out I was pregnant, the emotion of thrill was quickly followed by fear. Fear, that I wasn’t strong enough in my eating disorder recovery to handle the weight gain that goes hand-in-hand with pregnancy.  I was finally at a place in my life where I was doing well with my body and now—this would be a huge test.

So fat, as I gained weight with each of my babies I slowly embraced you. I embraced my expanding waist-line with an additional coating of you. I embraced you creeping into my breasts, making me ready to become the family cow. I had to make peace with you.

Fat, you will always be there, a form of excess flesh—protecting my body. Fat, pregnancy made me accept you for what you are, extra padding for this mommy—the strongest kind of woman there is. Extra padding that helps lift my daughters’ one in each arm. Extra padding that gives me the energy and strength to care for them.

This body has been through the ringer. All bodies have. But you can always find the beauty in the dark. You just have to not give up and keep looking.

My children are the beauty I found in the dark. They have helped me accept my body as it is, finding better coping mechanisms. They have reminded me that fat isn’t the enemy—be ridding my body of it, was my way of disappearing, not wanting to be seen. My babies make me want to take up more space and live. In fact, I am afraid to not be here because no one can love them as much as I do.

Pregnancy was the most space I ever took up. And gosh, my body was beautiful– because my babies were inside. This body created them. This body, fat and all. This body, it deserves to be cherished because it does so much.

I look down in the shower at my body.

The water is drip-dropping down my hair, off my nose, down my torso—to my toes covered by a layer of skin—my old friend, fat.  I now more than accept you. I love you for helping me finally find the beauty in the dark—my girls. I am glad I didn’t give up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Take My Summer Goals Challenge

 

Kylie’s Summer Goals                       My Summer Goals

 

I have been hearing a lot of self-loathing amongst the mommy population lately and I am not liking it. Not liking it one bit. It’s also sad that every single woman can relate to feeling bad about herself at a time, appearance wise—words like frumpy, fat, old, and ugly come to mind. We can all relate, because we have all felt less than.

Yesterday I came across something that saddened me. By the way, Kylie Jenner, I am not blaming you—I am all about woman supporting each other and damn no one with eyes can deny you look hot in that picture (girl knows how to rock a bikini!), but here is my problem with it. I am cold-clocking you hard with my eyes society. It’s that little caption underneath that sexy photo that says “summer goals.” For people that don’t keep up with the Kardashians (pun intended) like me, Kylie just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl Stormi.

I gave birth to a baby girl in September and I am here to counter these “summer goals” with my own and challenge Kylie and moms like her to think outside of their postpartum bods. Being in that place twice, I can say this new body will be the best body Kylie will have yet. This body will feed her baby—nourish her into the thriving sweet girl she will become right before her eyes. This body will be so strong—it will pick up her growing daughter with ease.  The one thing I can guarantee, is that this body, this new body, has never been loved more than she is starting to experience.

It’s time for all new moms to look beyond their bodies for “summer goals.” Happiness and beauty truly come from within. Beauty comes from your mind and creativity.  It comes from how kind you are to others. Kindness toward yourself is something you would want your children to emulate. So please, be kind to yourself. Let’s change how our kids will feel once they have the most wonderful gift in the world, a baby boy or girl.

This summer my goals will be (see picture above):

  • More living in the moment
  • More grandparent time
  • More time appreciating the outdoors
  • More fun play spaces to discover
  • More baby kisses and snuggles
  • Less time getting beaten by a crazy toddler
  • Less morning milk (solve my hyper-lactation problem)
  • More family time
  • More time getting genuine laughs and smiles

So Kylie, when you rock that bikini this summer (and you will), even if you don’t lose a pound, I am telling you it is going to be your favorite body yet because your daughter is going to love it–and you are going to appreciate all that it does–imperfections and all.

What will your “summer goals” collage look like?

Why It Is Hard For Me To Accept Help Even While Being In Third Trimester Of Pregnancy

“Let me give you a hand with Vivienne (my 18-month old) so you can go get something to eat or sit down?”

“It’s okay, I got it.” I politely smile back.

“Want some water, I will go get you a glass?”

“I am fine, but thanks.”

“Let me hold your diaper bag at least.”

“I. Got. It.” Words tersely spewing out of my mouth through gritted teeth.

When you are thirty-five weeks pregnant like me, and with a toddler in tow, people tend to want to help you out—especially the nicer ones (I mean, I would do the same thing!). It’s a very kind gesture and a lot of people love the help, but news flash: I absolutely loathe it. My immediate reaction is a deep want to Kung Fu the person (sometimes with nunchucks depending how persistent said person is) trying to assist me. Normal? Not really, but I can’t help this visceral reaction.

In fact, when my gynecologist said that I may have to start taking it easier in the third trimester and lift my daughter less, my first reactionary thought was lo siento, no Ingles (meaning, I don’t want to comprehend what you are saying, so I am going to pretend I can’t…). But I nodded, Uh huh, as that suggestion went chugga chugga into one eardrum and choo choo out the other like a runaway train.

So why this sour attitude toward kind Samaritans?

Well for most of my life I associated any form of help with me being incapable. This may be partly because when I was in third grade, I was diagnosed with a processing problem, meaning it takes me a little longer to take in information than most students. My mom made me get a tutor to “help” me, which I translated as, “Dani, you are a idiot.” My being a failure became an internal mantra.

Summer of third grade is also when I was introduced to my close companion, ED (Eating Disorder). The typical internal monologue of someone who takes on ED as a best friend is “I am not enough” “I am a failure” “I don’t deserve pleasure” “I have no worth.” These thoughts only exacerbated and confirmed my internal mantra making it a constant theme song in my life: The Dani Sucks At Everything Show. This could be why, it took me until I was twenty-six and had health complications to finally ask for the help I needed to be-rid myself of ED—the frequent guest host in my life.

I also grew up in an upper middle class town surrounded by a lot of people that were fortunate. Some seemed to take their fortune for granted, which made me as an observer, go the completely other direction—not wanting any handouts. My parents are very successful so it was always assumed everything was taken care of for me and that assumption angered me. At the height of my ED, I became all about being completely independent and taking care of everything myself, not caring if it was hurting me—black and white thinking till the very end.

So Please Have Patience with Me

 “Dani, I wish I could do more to help you out,” my husband says as he lathers Benadryl Itch Stopping Gel on my back, to alleviate my third trimester night itching I have developed.

“I am fine and you are helping me by doing this,” I answer as the cool lotion takes over my itchy skin, calming it down.

“No, you never let anyone do anything. It’s frustrating,” he laments.

This is our nightly routine.

Look, I have come a long way. I am almost five years into recovery (December 3, 2017 is the big day); feel the best I ever have, but go go go is just a huge part of my personality and take it easy is not in my vocabulary. I will at least now accept help at times when I am exhausted or overwhelmed, but I am a work in progress in regards to wanting help at all times or just because. I have found my gray area, but my gray area is still a type-A-personality-who-likes-to-achieve-on-her-own. So as long as the doctor says my baby is doing well, I plan to keep up my current pace. This self-reflection has left me wondering if it’s a me thing or an ED thingDoes any one else who has struggled with ED have this distaste or struggle with help as well?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being Okay With Not Being Okay With My Third Trimester Body

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.

Constipation:

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.

Transformation:

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.

Humor In Pregnancy Can Help ED Mamas-To-Be

Your back hurts from the weight you’re carrying up front, random coarse dark hairs sprout out of your chin that your husband offers to pluck for you (thanks honey!), and oh dammit, is that one coming out of your cheek? Welcome to pregnancy or as Will Smith raps and because it’s catchy AF, “Bienvenidos a Pregnancy” (in Miami tune). Pregnancy comes with a lot of fun little changes to your body (thanks hormones!). Fortunately, not everyone will get every side effect.

However, there is one thing about pregnancy that is universally true for every woman who finds herself lucky enough to carry a little bundle, and this little tidbit may be daunting for a recovering anorexic–you are going to gain weight to the point where you don’t recognize your body. Yes, you heard me right, but don’t sound the alarms just yet (no one can do that like Queen Beyoncé anyway.) I am on pregnancy number two, so you will probably do the whole thing again and maybe again and again. If you are feeling crazy, maybe even Duggar status, no judgment here. Bottom line, it can’t be that terrible.

My advice is to take in this new body with acceptance and humor. Acceptance, for pretty obvious reasons, you are carrying the best thing that will ever happen to you so it is more than worth it. But sometimes rationalizing that fact with the ED Voice can be a losing battle. Yes, you know you have a beautiful baby in your belly and you are lucky as hell, but you still feel like a whale, and you start hating yourself for these feelings. What do you do? Try this new attitude I have developed –look at your body with humor goggles (like beer goggles, but they won’t steer you wrong.) I dare you– because if you can laugh in the face of your ED voice, you know you have really put this whole ED thing behind you.

For example, I am twenty-five weeks pregnant with my second child and my boobs have grown to a size quadruple D (minimal exaggeration) like I got a massive boob job, except they aren’t perky or pretty.

They are actually so big that they fascinate my fifteen-month old daughter.

Her eyes become large like she is watching a car wreck, fascination and horror filled baby browns, as she points and says “boo, boos,” what she calls my boobs or what used to be my boobs now replaced by two gigantic itchy veiny beasts.

“Yes, and they feel like boo boos too,” I say back to her and don’t correct her wordage, because damn, these things ache too, and my little girl may be on to something. So the humor in this situation is that my boobs are so obscene that they are now one of my daughter’s first words.

Your stomach will bulge outward to make room for your baby pushing your belly button in that direction. This creeps me out the most, because my belly button starts making it’s way to outie-status. Every day I slowly glance at it as it pushes a little more and more towards the surface. My husband and me joke about it, even making bets on the day when it will officially be like “hi, I am an outie, what’s up?”

I also tend to do things to lighten up my thoughts on my big round belly. Sometimes I will even paint a smiley face in lipstick on it. Why? Because it makes me laugh and gives my belly some character, a little personality, and some sass.

So if you are a recovering or recovered ED mama-to-be who is struggling with body acceptance during pregnancy try this humor approach. Find the funny in your new temporary body. You are blessed and humor can help you remember that—even with each hair on your chinny-chin-chin (And you will understand the three little pigs more than ever as a life bonus!).

Applauds To Us Wannabe/Soon-to-be/ Mamas In ED Recovery

The moment I found out I was having my first baby I was beyond happy—my mind was on a cloud dancing, gangnam style, with my friends, the Care Bears. Anybody who longs for a child might feel this, but my joy was infused with such gratitude and relief that it is hard to put into words. I had thought I had completely ruined my body during my two decade long struggle with ED, but once I got my weight back to a healthy BMI and my period became regular, I was able to get pregnant.

“Oh my gosh, we are going to have a baby!” I shrieked, my initial reaction to seeing a positive result. I placed my hands over my mouth in disbelief. I am having a baby!

As excited as I was in that moment, once it sunk in, there was a part of me that was afraid that the weight gain would jeopardize my recovery. I’d finally found balance in my routines and eating and felt strong in my recuperation, and this was a curve ball. So here is some advice for a wannabe-mama/ mama-to-be in recovery who finds herself in a similar position:

1). How do I deal with my body changing?

I had some initial struggles with my rapid body changes: sudden huge boobs and out-of-control evolutions I had never experienced and could do nothing to affect. This is how I dealt with it. For starters, there were my half an hour workouts each day that helped keep me in shape and fueled me with “feel good” endorphins. Then there was another part of me, a much more rational and greater part that wanted a baby more than anything and knew, no matter what, I would be okay. I would make sure of it because my baby would need me to be. So if you find yourself struggling, remind yourself what is in your stomach-and why you are gaining weight in the first place–your incredible baby!

2). How do I cope with seeing the numbers go up on the scale?

Easy: Don’t look!

            When you are pregnant you are expected to gain a certain amount of weight. Every time you are at the OB’s office you will be weighed to make sure you are on track. I would advise that you stand backwards on the scale and let the professionals track your weight without you knowing. As long as you are on track, that’s all that matters. I know people without eating disorders who do this. I know that weighing myself is a trigger and I take no chances with triggers when I take into account the health of my child. That is why standing backwards and not knowing my number is a good solution for me.

It is very important to be upfront with your gynecologist about your eating disorder history and past. This may seem trivial, but with my first child, I received a document from my gynecologist with great news, but it had my weight on it, a trigger. I hadn’t seen a number in three years and I hate to admit it but that number haunted me. I couldn’t stop staring at it as the doctor was talking to me. To resolve this, I emailed my OB reminding her of my history/it would be better to not know the number as long as I am gaining healthily and the baby is doing great. She said no problem and that was that.

3). What helps you feel comfortable with your growing belly? 

The other issue I struggled with sometimes was my actual bump size/physical weight gain, not surprisingly. Sometimes I thought it looked cute, and other times I thought I looked chubby or like a “beluga whale”—more the latter honestly, which I am not proud of. I was carrying very side to side, so I just started looking pregnant around 28 weeks. I was waiting for “the bump” for so long, and once it came I was actually not that confident in it.

What helped a lot was that I had gotten a great maternity wardrobe that I felt comfortable and confident in. I would suggest everyone get clothes that fit and feel good, especially toward the end of pregnancy! It was helpful to invest in a maternity wardrobe, and it’s not a waste of money; I still wear the clothing postpartum. I also plan to have more kids, so they can definitely be recycled. It’s better to avoid all of your old clothes during this time. It can be a sting to your ego when your clothing starts to get tight and remind you that you are packing on the pounds.

4). Will I have some down days? What should I do?

Of course you will! Duh, you are human. On days when I did feel insecure about my bump, I felt guilty talking about it. If I would complain, “I was feeling huge and bad about myself,” I would be met with “but you are having a baby.” Then I would feel extremely guilty for my feelings, because yes, I was having a baby and I was extremely lucky, but on the other hand, I am allowed to feel not great about myself.

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 that most mothers-to-be have insecure days and these so-called “irrational fears.” We have to start supporting, rather than judging, one another so that we can talk about these normal fears and make one another feel better, instead of holding the feelings in.

My number one advice is talk to someone about how you are feeling (a support) and then do something to make you feel good. Go get a pedicure, a manicure, read a good book, exercise—whatever makes you feel like your best self.

 5). Will my Second baby be easier?

Okay, so surprise, I am pregnant again (almost 20 weeks). Meaning after all of these doubts, I did it again. And guess what? This time around has been much easier because I know what to expect. I am finding that the change in my body is also easier because not only have I already been through it, but also I have no time to focus on the changes this time around. I am constantly chasing around my toddler, taking her to classes, feeding her, watching her reach milestones etc. Also, the best thing about this time around is that you really know what you are getting out of it–another little person that you will love more than anything in this entire world. For that deal, I am in, maybe a couple more times (ask me a couple months after this one enters into the world. I may be bluffing…)

6). Will I relapse after baby?

These little people keep you honest. I know I will be healthy for my daughter so, in a way, she will always be keeping me honest about my recovery. I never want to hear the words “I am fat” out of her mouth. I never want her to emulate unhealthy eating habits from me. I want her to look at her mommy and want to be the confident, smart, kind individual I plan to be for her. I want her to see that intelligence and a kind heart is what real beauty is. Helping people is what beauty is. Being happy and healthy is what beauty is. The rest is bullshit. I want her to know that bodies come in all shapes and sizes and not one is more perfect than the other. I want her to never compare herself to anyone. I will teach her self-acceptance because no one is perfect. It’s the world’s greatest farce.

But always make sure to contact support after the baby if you are finding yourself struggling with your postpartum body. With the stress of having a new baby, it is easy to feel like “I am not doing a good enough job” and everything is completely out of control. These times are when the disordered eating thoughts come back into my head, and I must be vigilant about shutting them down. Wanting a perfect body is hardest to resist when everything around you is so out of control. I had to remember that the size-zero jeans in my closet weren’t the key to my happiness; in fact, they made me the most miserable I had ever been. I stepped back and realized that I was only obsessing about fat because I felt overwhelmed (between balancing working from home and a new baby who needs to eat every two to three hours), and I shut the voices down. This is what you will need to do.

Also, I wasn’t able to diet to lose the weight, because dieting isn’t recommended for recovering anorexics. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t tempted to at times. I am not sure of what my weight was before I became pregnant again, but between breastfeeding (which burns calories and helps shrink your uterus) eating healthy (intuitively), and exercising (chasing a baby is a workout when they get a bit older!) the weight seemed to come off fairly easy. I will never know if I hit my pre-baby magic number, because I didn’t get on a scale, but that’s not important to me. Also, like diets, I don’t believe in scales and obsessing about numbers. I went by how I felt. Most important, my baby was getting proper nutrition from my breast milk and gaining weight and I was strong enough to be the best version of myself for her.

            If you are questioning getting pregnant because of your ED history, know that you will be more than fine; in fact it will be the best decision you ever made. The positives far outweigh the negatives. Just because we had eating disorders doesn’t mean we won’t be amazing mothers. It means we will be strong, sensitive, caring, appreciative, aware mothers to our off spring. And for mamas out there–This mothers day every mama in recovery deserves to be celebrated, because not only are we mamas, which is a hard enough job, we were able to do something our ED told us we couldn’t and produce and care for an amazing human being. Bravo to us!

 

Hatching An Egg The Second Time Around

First of all, if you are pregnant with your second child, props because it’s work to get here! After a long day of having your toddler climbing you like you are human Monkey Bars, the last thing you want to do is be touched in any form, at least on some most days. So yes, getting to this point—high five to you! The first time around, there were countless times I wished I was a chicken and could just hatch an egg. I think we all have these wishbone moments—where we wish when cracking that chicken wishbone for this baby’s healthy eviction another route. But this time, so far being pregnant with child number two has been treating me well–besides the headaches and nausea of first trimester– but I digress to some encouraging facts I have gathered:

1). It goes by fast.

I am already 16 weeks pregnant and I feel like I took the pregnancy test yesterday…maybe I did? (Damn forgetful pregnancy brain and your momnesia ways!). My pregnancy is like the Roadrunner running away from the Tasmanian devil on Looney Tunes-fast AF. I hardly even look at my Ovia app, where last time I obsessed about my baby’s fruit and animal size. It was important when she was an avocado. This time I just think oh that will be a nice food to give my other out-of-womb-child tonight. We haven’t done avocados in a while…

2). You are too busy to think about how exhausted you are, most of the time.

I am taking my fourteen month old to classes, running after her, as she is finding her walking groove–transitioning from her crawl. We are always on the “go, go, go” as she says often, especially when she is using her walker. So yes, I am always exhausted anyway, and don’t have time to feel it until around 7-7:30 PM when my little girl closes her eyes for the night and I can just sit on the couch and veg. But let’s be real, that’s what I did every night before I was pregnant anyway.

 3). You already have maternity clothes from the first time around.

In fact, I never stopped wearing them! I am one of those freaks that love maternity clothes. Baby number one is almost fourteen months, and I just never stopped wearing them because they are so damn comfortable. It’s also not because I don’t fit into my other clothes, because I do, it’s just a comfort thing. Why would I want to squeeze into jeans when these are like jumping into butter? Exactly! They are also nice and stretched from pregnancy number one—so they are that perfect consistency of soft comfort. One bonus for working at home and being the primary caretaker for my daughter—I am going to rock my maternity for life and no one can stop me!

4). Your attitude about your body changes.

You already have stretch marks and fun pregnancy battle wounds from the first go, so it’s like bring it on to more. I struggled with eating disorders for years, but pregnancy actually did something wonderful for me. It made me realize how amazing our bodies are as women. Being pregnant actually took me from in recovery to recovered because I really treated my body like I always should have without much second thought, or at least third thought (we all have bad days!). That has continued to this day. So if I get another mark or two, bring it on because pregnancy has brought the best thing in the world into my life—my daughter.

5). You’re not as nervous, because you have already done this whole baby thing before.

You are a pro mama. At least you are no longer a virgin to this whole baby world. Throw up-bring it! More poop diaper—shit, bring that too! Pat yourself on the back mama–you got this. Now that whole multiple baby thing, let’s just not think about that…

6). You are actually looking forward to the birth.

I mean, free childcare and drugs at my disposal—it will be like a full on party!

So far, pregnancy number two has been treating me well. I will keep you posted but no wishbone moments…yet. All you mamas out there try to think of these positives. Oh and remember, in those tough moments, you have another beautiful baby on the way—double high-five to that.