Morgan (33 - she/her), Avery (5), and Caroline (3)
Maryland | Washington, DC
How has parenthood impacted your body image?
My body image was impacted differently with each of my children. For as long as I can remember, I have not had a positive body image. What started as a simple diet at fifteen quickly led to anorexia and a long struggle with food, weight and my body image. While I felt I was in a good place recovery-wise when I got pregnant with my first baby, I still worried about how I would feel about and handle the weight gain and changes to my body that would inevitably occur. I tried to put it out of my mind for the time being and once I found out I was having a girl, I felt an even greater sense of responsibility to protect her from the issues that had plagued me for so long. I never wanted my children to learn disordered thoughts or behaviors from me. It was easy to do since my body did what it was "supposed" to do - gaining the requisite XX pounds and "bouncing back" quickly thanks to breastfeeding. I felt proud and empowered. My body had grown and solely nourished another human being. I was grateful my body had done exactly what it was "supposed" to do and my disordered side was satisfied. I pushed my weight and body image issues to the back of my mind, thinking they were buried forever.
With my second pregnancy, I was more confident in my body to do what it was "supposed" to, but I still worried about not "bouncing back" in the same way I had after my first. I expected everything to go exactly as it had the first time, but things don't usually turn out as we expect, do they? As my health spiraled downward after my second pregnancy and I was diagnosed with multiple chronic conditions, I felt like my body was failing me and I could no longer trust it to do what it was "supposed" to do. I had no idea when or if it would get better, or how much worse it would get. I was angry and irritable from being in pain without answers, and getting more and more anxious and depressed that I'd never get better, and only continue to get worse.
Time was ticking and we wanted to have another baby eventually, but everywhere I turned people were telling me I shouldn’t put my body through it again and that I should be thankful for the two children I had (as if I wasn’t already!) I had been pregnant and/or nursing for over five years straight and my body had not been solely mine for a long time. I finally weaned my second and shortly after had a medical procedure done requiring me to fast. I remembered what it felt like to have a sense of control over my own body again. I had hit my breaking point and the next thing I knew months had gone by and I was being hospitalized for anorexia. Not only was my body failing, but now so was my mind. On top of it, I felt like I had failed deeply as a mother to my daughters to be struggling with an eating disorder of all things. How did I let this happen? How could I do this to my kids? The guilt and shame were indescribable.
While they still make a regular appearance, I am working to re-frame it more positively - as an opportunity to learn what a truly healthy body image is so I can be the best example for my daughters. Through all of this, I’ve had to learn that I need to accept the fact that our bodies are continually changing. Not only in the way it looks, but in how it feels and functions, it’s abilities and limitations. I have spent too much time trying to get the “old me” back, when I need to be focusing on accepting myself as I am right now. Despite all of the negative thoughts I may have towards my body though, one thing has remained constant - I will always have a deep appreciation for it for allowing me to carry, grow and nourish two healthy babies with it, and for that I am grateful.
What was your postpartum experience?
With my first baby, I honestly spent a lot of my pregnancy preparing myself for the worst. I was convinced I’d never sleep again (mostly true!) and the thought of being responsible for the safety and well being of another human overwhelmed me. I was terrified about the responsibility I was about to face, and was pleasantly surprised with how natural motherhood came to me and how relatively easily we managed to get through those first few months. Recovery was more difficult than I imagined, simply because no one prepares you for how incredibly challenging it is to take care of your healing body on zero sleep, while also learning to care for a newborn!
I was ready and excited to have a second baby. I knew what to expect this time, or so I thought. No one could have prepared me for the health issues that began towards the end of my pregnancy. Around 34 weeks I developed severe SPD and was put on bedrest. I was angry and resentful to be spending my last weeks with my only child in severe pain and barely able to walk. I blamed myself for not being healthy enough, for not exercising and being in good enough shape. When it didn't resolve after birth, my OB suggested I see a geneticist to be tested for a connective tissue disorder called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which I had. EDS often causes joint hypermobility, loose/unstable ligaments and joints, subluxations, chronic pain, and a number of other unpleasant symptoms and co-morbid conditions. While my pelvic pain began to slowly resolve over the course of the next year, the daily headache and debilitating neck pain began. The longer I was upright, the worse it got. Over time, a number of unexplained neurological symptoms developed along with it.
My postpartum experience was a blur of countless doctor’s appointments, imaging, tests and procedures, therapies, dollars, hours spent looking for answers and relief. It was constantly telling my toddler that I couldn't pick her up or that I needed to lay down because of the pain. I was struggling to accept my body's new limitations and balancing the demands of being a working mom with chronic illness. The feelings of guilt, inadequacy and failure overwhelmed me. I became anxious and depressed and eventually turned to my eating disorder to cope with it all. The past three years have been some of the most physically and mentally challenging times I’ve experienced, but I'm determined to use it as an opportunity to learn, grow and become a better mother and person because of it. Maybe not the person I once thought I would be, but the one I am meant to be.
What is one piece of knowledge you'd pass along to your former self, or a new parent?
You can only take care of everyone else without taking care of yourself for so long. It’s (going to be) okay if you’re struggling. It’s okay to need and ask for help. Don't be ashamed - it doesn’t make you a weak, flawed, incapable, or bad person. Take time for yourself and surround yourself with people who love, care, and respect you deeply and you will make it through, even when you believe you can't and won't. You are stronger than you feel.
Why did you choose to participate in this movement and share your story?
I have been following this project since shortly after my first child was born in 2014. I appreciate everything this project and movement represents. I have always been in awe of the courage and strength of the women behind these stories, and incredibly grateful to them for sharing, as they have given me so much inspiration, strength and hope – especially that a positive body image is possible. During my most recent anorexia relapse, I desperately needed to connect with other parents like me, who had been through this before. I felt so alone and isolated, like the only mom in the world facing this. I needed someone who had been there to tell me that it was going to be okay, that not only could I figure out a way to leave work and my family for treatment, but doing so didn't mean I was a horrible mother, that I was still deserving of my children, and that they would be okay, too. I agonized over those thoughts and questions unnecessarily I hope that if there is someone that needs to hear this exact thing right now, that my story finds them and helps them feel less alone.
And I’m doing this for my daughters. For so long I have berated myself for my perceived “flaws” and kept my own struggles a secret out of embarrassment and shame. Silence only serves to perpetuate the shame and there is something healing (and absolutely terrifying) in sharing. Trying to hide any part of yourself is painful, lonely and exhausting, and I never want my daughters to feel that way. I don’t just want to tell them, I want to SHOW them it's okay to be vulnerable and that they never have to be ashamed of ANY part of themselves!