Hello, Mamma

During my recovery from anorexia I was asked what a full, recovered life would look like. Who I'd be, what I'd be doing, whether I'd get married or be a mother or not. Big life questions, right?

It was something that felt so far-stretched as I sat in my therapist's office, that I couldn't even comprehend having my periods again, let alone meeting someone and having a baby. Who cared? What I cared about was controlling my diet and not gaining weight.

I didn't realise how much I had got used to seven years without menstruating, it was my new norm. Not normal, I get that. But to me, I guess it was some sort of reassurance I wasn't fat.

Fast forward to the end of 2018, a year of connecting to my body, my sacral chakra and of accepting as a 30-something year old woman most definitely should be bleeding every month. I've gradually, through self-care work, have ended up in a place where I celebrate this, I track my cycle, noticing small changes during each season of my cycle and embracing them.

Reflexology has helped too. Not only to work on my connection to me, but also there's research into the benefits of it on fertility, and many use it to bring on labour when they're ready to burst with baby.

Well, that's going to be me in about five months time. Yes. I am pregnant.

Big news huh?

Marc and I found out around the 6/7 week mark, a home pregnancy test. I decided to do one after a couple of weeks of sore boobs and missed bleed. And there is was. A positive.

We weren't NOT trying, but I have believed since 2011 that children would be out of the picture. Something I had traded with the devil (anorexia) for thinness and lightness. But it seems a little bit of self-care and being with someone who's going to be an amazing Daddy can work it's magic.

It's going to be one hell of a journey. I'm 14/15 weeks, it's already been a whirlwind of appointments. Starting with coming off my meds immediately (citalapram isn't recommended when pregnant), stopping drinking, cutting out caffeine, taking folic acid, and most importantly EATING. Eating well, better that I have in a longtime. I have the support of some amazing friends, family and my doula, Tor, and lots of really wonderful members of my tribe too. I am focusing on a 'me' pregancy and birth, with yoga, hynobirthing, affirmations and keeping calm. 

Over dinner a while ago M asked me if I'd be okay when pregnant with the increased need to ALL food types, as well as the vital weight gain to make a baby and carry it for 9 months. Don't get me wrong, I am scared of ending up a bloated whale by Christmas, I am anxious that having a child will make me a chubby mamma forever, but I know these are lies. Everyday I will face new challenges I am sure, but for now, it's all-go for the baby brain. It seems to overide anorexia, I know I need fats and carbs to grow a bubba, and that's what it's going to get. I don't expect to be scoffing cakes and dark chocolate or bowls of chips for the next 25-odd weeks, but I will be increasing my varieties and cooking up balanced meals to grow a little genius as well as I can.

I can't quite believe that come January/February we'll have (all being well) a baby to care for, feed and bring up. A little human we'll help to navigate the world. But we will have. That's my new reality. Something I dreamed of and recovered for.

I will try to share my journey on this blog, because I want it to have an outcome that gives other's hope that aims in recovery can seem so pointless and far-fetched but trust me, those dreams CAN become realities. I am about to find that out over the next few months.

Oh. My. Weight.

One of the HARDEST things about sharing my recovery openly is that a big part of it has never been open. Most people know what that part it and why it's the 'Great Unshared' of those in recovery.

Sometimes I just want to blurt it all out, why? Because NOT talking about it is exactly what anorexia wants. Whether that's the 'shame' the illness makes me feel for gaining - or the 'secret' happiness of it going down - or for me - the relief of it being EXACTLY the same. 

So, this morning was my monthly 'weigh in day'. Still a date with a big 'X' on my diary which plays on my mind, whether I like that or not. It's a morning I dread and over-think more than I probably should the night before. 

I don't have scales, I get myself out of bed early and go to the local leisure centre to use the digital scales (right outside the 0700am spin class and a bustling gym which makes me feel guilty for not being 'so dedicated to fitness. I'll touch on that soon!)

This morning was no different. Same clothes, same routine. Driving there my mind goes over the same thoughts as last month, and the month before that. I set the 'acceptable gain' I won't freak out about....I allow myself the sneaky excitement that it MIGHT have just gone down 'a little bit' and then the most comfortable thought. Just please be the same. 

I step on the digital scales, pop in my pound coin and '"stay still and stand upright" while the machine measures my height and weight. I don't even look at the screen to see. I wait for the print out instead. I hold on to the handles and measure my body fat, even though I have no faith in what that ACTUALLY measures (I always think maybe it'd have a true reading if it could measure the fat somewhere else. Like my stomach not my fingers?)  

Let me put this next bit in context. **Don't read this paragraph if you're easily triggered. I am just being honest** For the last couple of months I have tracked my intake roughly - and generally day-to-day I don't reach 2000 calories, despite knowing I should be, and not being far off, it's not 2000. For those of you who want to know...it's probably 1600-ish. So, if I am NOT at the 'ideal' recovery weight, and I'm under-eating on a daily basis, and doing about two days of exercise a week (one run and one HIIT/Circuit session) my head is jumbled with thoughts as to why I have gained weight. A little more context. 

Anyone well into their recovery or battling on from a relapse will know what I mean when I explain that it's not like the SCREAMS of anorexia when you first start WR, it's more a mix of a thousand-and-one questions as to WHY it's gone up, just wanting answers. Of course, I know it's anorexia asking them. I also have to consciously remind myself I am still slightly short of where I was when I was discharged - and even then I had a couple of kilos to go to hit the 'ideal' initial WR target. Want a little more context? I'm talking about 0.3kg, a POUND. That's anorexia's magic, all those questions, over 1lb. It makes me analyse what I have done to 'deserve' the gain. 

I don't want lie or hold back but know to protect other people in recovery - I do. It also helps to avoid having to explain myself to people who don't get why this is still an issue a year after discharge and almost five years after stating treatment. But it is. 

So I will have to end this here. A pound.