I like this body. This fuller, rounder body. That fact surprises me at times. The way I love to place my hand at the lower half of my abdomen, where I know the escargot lies, even if I haven't felt them yet. The fact that the other night when I went to put on my jeans I hadn't worn in a while and realized there wasn't a miracle on this earth that was going to make the button and button hole come closer than 3 inches from one another. Shocking how that sneaks up on you.
I've written most of a post about bulimia and pregnancy. It was my biggest fear, this part of me that has the possibility of causing great harm. No amount of promises I've ever made to myself have ever held up long term. And I have seen documentaries where mothers succumbed while their infant lay on the bathroom floor next to them, read articles by women who starved themselves while pregnant. And if you search, forums have women confessing to being unable to stop the cycle of binging and purging.
My food choices have helped me extensively in my quest to live a healthy, stronger life. But there is no cure, and it was a legitimate fear that pregnancy instead of helping would make things worse. When I realized that I was going to be going it alone for 2/3 of this, free to make any choice I chose, I was terrified. I've never in my adult life been healthy, but it's always been worse on my own.
This experience has surely shown me who I am when the world isn't watching. And I want to share this journey because it's one small story among many, but maybe one that isn't so bad, isn't so scary. So please stay tuned for part 2, coming up tomorrow.