What If...

My husband and I were talking the other day about what ifs...What if we would have waited to have children? What if we would have done this differently? And that differently?

We didn't wait to have children. Baby girl (my first) came along right after we got married. We didn't get a chance to travel. A chance to be newlyweds. We were still in college. Still babies ourselves. I had just turned 21. Most people would call us crazy. So many people want to wait years before they have children; to be able to travel the world, settle into a real job, graduate college, maybe go for their masters or an even higher education.

This is what I told my husband, "I never once regret having baby girl so soon. I wouldn't take it back for all of the late nights out with friends, parties and whatever else it is people do nowadays. She changed me, she changed my world and for that I could never wish anything different. My only regret is that we didn't have a chance to become financially stable (kids are expensive). I wish we would have had a few more months of just us-just to get to know each other better before we added a baby into the mix, I would have liked to go on a few vacations, but those don't really matter." He was silent and I started to think maybe I sounded selfish. But then again, I am only human. Then he said, "I completely agree with you."

Having our children so soon has often made me wonder what if...

But then I think of how they make me feel. How they make me feel like a I am supermom. How they warm my heart on the crappiest days. I think of their sweet laughs and precious smiles. Of all of the hugs and kisses I receive each day. The looks they give me when they don't get their way. When they bring me a book to read and snuggle up with me on the couch. I could go on and on. I wouldn't trade my sweet angels for one late night out. I think I've said it before but they have honestly changed me, beyond what I could have ever imagined. God blessed me with my two beautiful children AND one on the way. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

I.am.ready

I AM READY. I am so ready for baby C to get here. I’m ready to smell the sweet breath of a newborn. I’m ready to hold her in my arms. To see which sibling she will look like (although I have a feeling she will be my daughter’s mini-me). I’m ready for baby C with our family and friends. Typing this right now with a huge smile on my face, just thinking of my family growing once more.

Although I am only 25 weeks along (I know I have a long way to go lol) I cannot wait until the day my husband and I go to the hospital, check-in, prep for a third c-section and patiently wait for the arrival of our third precious baby. My heart is filled with so much joy just thinking about it. Some people may think I am crazy wanting her to come now with two little ones at home, but I believe God made me to have children.

I believe He created me, brought my husband and I together to have children (and beautiful ones at that ;)). Being a mother, is just something that feels right to me. I may screw up, I make mistakes, I get upset with my children, I want “me time” sometimes, but only because I’m human. Being a mother is something I feel came natural to me. I always knew I wanted to have children, that I wanted a big family. Now that it is happening, it feels like a fairytale. I have been blessed with two beautiful children. they are happy and healthy; now don’t get me wrong, they are nowhere near perfect, but they are perfect for this mama.

This is a short post, but I just had to tell someone how overjoyed I am of bringing another sweet angel into our family. That day cannot come soon enough.

Post-Partum Depression

Three words I never thought would come out of my mouth. Three scary words. I never thought I had to worry about postpartum depression. I thought the least that could happen were the all so common “baby blues” so many women get with all of our raging hormones after having a baby. Let’s face it, they are raging. But sometimes those “baby blues” don’t go away after a few days. You don’t feel right, like yourself. Post-partum depression affects women in all different kinds of ways. It is not the same for every woman. 

I went back to work 4 weeks after having my baby boy (my second child & c-section). Way too soon if you ask me. I did it because I had to, for my family. That’s when I really noticed I wasn’t right. I wasn’t happy, I didn’t want to get up in the morning, I felt like I had no purpose. But most of all my anxiety was constantly overbearing all of my thoughts. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Death is all I thought about. I was scared my son would stop breathing in his sleep. Scared I might drop him and he may never take another breath. When my husband offered to take the kids off of my hands for an hour or so, I was too scared to let him go out of the house and in the car without me. Because I thought I am being selfish wanting time to myself, that something might happen to them, I would be punished for wanting time to myself, a car crash that would end their lives therefore ending mine too. So I never let him take them without me going with them. He never understood, but I never told him why. I never confessed that I was too scared that something might happen. I never let family take them for just a few hours so that Stephen (my husband) and I could have some alone time. I was scared no one would take care of them the way I do. That someone might crash into them and kill them instantly. I never wanted my children out of my sight. EVER.

I never told anyone. For months I never told anyone what was going on. The biggest mistake I made. I was too ashamed and embarrassed people would see me as weak, as a sissy. I was worried of the judgment I would receive. Of the thoughts and looks I might get or how people would treat me differently. It would be what was expected from a mother of one child already. “She knows what to expect, she can’t be going through post-partum depression.” And so many other things that went through my head. I did however finally confess to my doctor. She acted completely normal. Which shocked me because who gets post-partum depression? Only sissys do. SO NOT TRUE. She told me how normal it was AND in my circumstances it didn’t surprise her (we had a lot going on at that time). She prescribed me to get out and exercise and sunshine. I tried for about a month with her prescription and no change. Fearfully and dreadfully, I went back. I told her I tried my best and no changes. She then prescribed me medication. I tried that and it didn’t work. So I went back, bound and determined I would get over this, one way or another. I was suffering deep down. I wanted to enjoy my life. I wanted to enjoy the sweet moments of my newborn and my beautiful daughter, who was ecstatic about her baby brother. Finally, a prescription that worked. It took about a month for me to see any change, but it worked. 

I still hadn’t told my husband what was going on. He’s a big tough guy who thinks a pat on the back will make everything better. And for some that method does work, but not for me. He found my prescription I had been hiding because I was SO embarrassed and ashamed and thought he would think so little of me. He was mad. Not mad that I had to take something to make me better, but mad because I couldn’t confide in him. Which I should have done. I should have told the one person I share everything with. He did ask, “This is not something you can just suck up?” At those last two words, I burst into tears. The one question I had been dreading all of this time. It’s something he couldn’t understand. And now I truly believe it’s something no one will ever understand until they have gone through it. I tried explaining to him how I felt every single day, how I was terrified of him running up to the grocery store (less than 5 miles away) with both children, out of fear something might happen to them. I still don’t think he understands, not fully. 

The medication worked. I was back to myself. I was the old Morgan again. I remember the feeling of a weight being lifted off of me. The liberating feeling of “being free” again of all of the crazy thoughts and worries. So I stopped taking my medicine. I acted as a doctor. I started feeling the same way again. I don’t know what to do now, now that I’m pregnant with our third. I don’t want to take any medication regardless of the studies being done that say it’s ok to take it. I’m worried I’ll do harm to our unborn daughter all because I can’t be happy. This, I haven’t told my husband either. I don’t want him to worry about me when we have so many other things to worry about. I am making the best of things and when those old thoughts come to my mind, I do my best to push them out any way I can. 

I am writing this to warn all women expecting, it can happen. You may think “it can’t happen to me!”. But boy oh boy can it happen and it happens in an instant. So watch for the signs (every woman’s may be different), TALK to your loved ones, TALK to your doctor, get out in the sunshine, go for a walk, take a deep breath and know that you’re not alone and this to shall pass. Having children is not all hunky dorie, rainbows and pots of gold. It takes a lot of hard work without having PPD. You can get through it. Don’t give up and keep trying for that sweet baby of yours. They are so incredibly worth it. 

This may seem a little blunt and maybe too honest, but I don't think it does anyone any good sugar coating or lying. Post-partum depression is something serious and I don't want to be the one to make it seem like a rainbows and unicorns. I'm not perfect and I don't want to pretend I am. I'm no doctor and am in now way telling you how to cure PPD. I wanted to share my experience. I thought I was the only one in the world going through it. I hope being able to read one's confession can put you at ease (somewhat).

Be kind for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.

Working tonight at the zoo, bartending for Zoo Brew. I had on khaki linen pants and a black tank top. I felt gorgeous and fierce! It was so unbelievably hot and humid outside, it was awful. I could feel the sweat rolling down my back (gross I know). The evening got started and guests were piling in. We had a scatter of customers, but most people came to enjoy the beer not the wine I was selling. I had a guy walk up to me and started a conversation, then it came up that I was pregnant. He asked when I was due and I told him March 3rd, he did the calculation then looked up and said, "Wow, you're pretty big for 3 months?!" I just stared at him, I wanted to punch his lights out, kick him in the nuts. Instead I just smiled and said,"THIS is my third child, so yea I am a little bigger." I just couldn't believe it. He later came back to apologize and make up for his bad choice of words (which made it somewhat better). I then had a couple come up and we struck up some more conversation. It was mentioned again that I was pregnant, by the girl who was with me. And they couldn't believe it. They went on and on about how great I looked. (Yes this is my boasting-it happens and it seriously made my night) It was then brought up that this was my third child, the girl looked at me and said, "no offense because I don't know you, but I hate you" LOL I went on to say, "it's ok, I work hard for this body, I take pride in it and I am damn proud of it!" The guy was a runner and had run Boston and Chicago. We ended up talking about running; I already have several goals for after Baby and was sharing with him. It's amazing how runners just instantly connect. There is a bond there only runners know. Anywho, I just really wish people thought before they let crud out of their mouth, let rude comments hurt someone. It doesn't take much to give compliments and you have no idea how far those compliments will go. One of my favorite sayings, "Be kind, for everyone meet is fighting a hard battle." Just think what a simple smile can do, you may be the only hope, happiness that person sees all day long. That's all for tonight. I just wanted to share with everyone to remember to be kind, use your words carefully and think before you speak. It's late and I need sleep. Good night!

My Epiphany

Last night, after dinner we let the kids play in the sandbox for a while and once the sun started going down more we went for a walk. We did 2 miles. The night was perfect! I can feel fall coming. I had done 2.50 miles at work on the elliptical during my lunch break. I was feeling great. Decided to head home since it was almost 8pm and needed to get the kids ready for bed and I was pooped too! After getting them settled, I hopped in the shower, got out and just stared at my body. I had a clear mind and I wanted to admire God’s handy work. When I saw my reflection I didn’t see “thunder thighs”, a little chubbier face than before, I didn’t see boobs that were swelling and a belly that was growing what seemed a couple inches every day. I saw a beautiful pregnant woman. I saw a woman who God chose to carry another one of His children. I saw breasts that were growing and that take time so when my little angel comes I will be able to provide all the nourishment he or she needs. I saw a beautiful expanding pregnant belly, one that has a miracle inside, one that is housing God’s creation, one that is growing in a sometimes unimaginable way. Sometimes I just sit and think how crazy and wonderful it is that God chose us women to carry His children; how He designed a woman’s body to carry children is just unthinkable on most days. I got lost in a trance looking at God’s creation. Being pregnant is one of the most beautiful things on earth to me and I thank God every day He has given me this opportunity, not once but three times. Being a mother is the greatest blessing on earth. Being a mother has changed my view on a lot of things and made me a better person.

I have been working extremely hard (mentally and physically) on having a better point of view of my body and last night the hard work paid off. I have been in the gym every day, trying to keep my same routine up, cardio and weights. I care more about my body with this pregnancy than I did with my other two. I'm not saying I care more about this baby, but my body. I want to be able to enjoy the 7 weeks I am home on maternity leave recovering and soaking the sweet newborn baby smell and everything else that goes along with it. I don’t want to worry about losing weight just yet. After my second, I went back to work after 4 weeks (post c-section) it was the hardest thing for me. Therefore I have already decided those 7 weeks at home, I will make the most of it and just enjoy that time. Like Samantha Harris said, “Instead of worrying about losing my figure, I’m embracing this beautiful time. I have the rest of my life to get in shape, right?” Words I keep repeating to myself when I think my body could be better; words that I have wrote on a post-it and put it on my computer at work to read every.single.day. I’m not going to let the devil take over my mind because that’s all it is. Being pregnant is a beautiful extraordinary gift and I am embracing it as each day goes by.

Pregnancy

Pregnancy for the most part has been good to me. With my first, I took the term “eating for two” a little to heart, more than I should have. I packed on the pounds with my daughter. I walked 3-5 miles daily, but still gained a ton of weight throughout the whole 9 months. I was informed by the doctor I couldn’t run because I had a hemorrhage, which really was depressing as I am a by one definition a runner. Running is my release, my happy drug, my stress reliever. I wasn’t sick one bit with my first child. I was in heaven after hearing so many stories of women being sick the entire way through. I was very unhappy with my body, but knew that a diet while being pregnant was out of the question. So I decided I had to live with my mistakes and I could fix it once I had my beautiful baby girl. I look back on pictures now of when I was pregnant with her and think “what the hell?! How did I let myself gain that much weight?!” I went from 135 (pre-pregnancy) to 180 (I think-full term). It was bad. After I had my daughter, I breastfed for 6 months which helped me lose some of the weight; I got down to I think 140 or so. I stopped breastfeeding because my husband and I wanted to have another baby so bad we tried while I was breastfeeding but couldn’t get pregnant. We had seen how wonderful our daughter was and wanted another little bundle of joy. I stopped breastfeeding in July and was pregnant in October. Needless to say, I am one fertile lady!
 

Now when they say pregnancies are never the same, they are different for every woman and every child; they are 100% correct! I was sick as a dog for 17 full weeks with my second. I think it had to do with all of the extra testosterone in my body. So I didn’t gain much weight for the first 4 months. I was on medication to help with the sickness which knocked my butt out; it was so hard to take care of my little one while hanging over the toilet night and day. The sickness finally subsided and I started feeling so much better AND gaining weight! Then I started showing! I had learned my lesson with my first that “eating for two” did not mean DOUBLING your food. With either child, I didn’t crave sweets, in fact thinking about them made me sick to my stomach; which was a blessing because I have a horrible sweet tooth. I craved fruits and veggies all of the time. I gained about 30 pounds this time around, which is a healthy amount to gain. And the doctor was happy, so I was happy. After having my son, who was (and still is) an eating machine. I was breastfeeding and did for a year. The weight just started shedding off. I had c-sections with both, so I was out of commission for 6 weeks after. I wasn’t doing anything to lose the weight for those 6 weeks and I lost a good 15-20 pounds!! I was thrilled!! I continued to breastfeed and feed my body nothing but good stuff so that he would get all of the nutrients. My weight just kept dropping. I then became active again; and even more came off! I thought I was dreaming. By the end of the year, I was down to 120. I hadn’t weighed that less since high school. I was so proud of my hard work, my sexy body, ESPECIALLY after TWO kids!!!

And now with my third, it was a mixture of both. We had just decided we would wait another 3-4 years for another baby. My husband was really wanting another one and right away. I on the other hand wanted to enjoy my new body, financially better our lives, I wanted to enjoy our two kids, let them get a little older, more independent before we brought another baby in the world. We went to Target one night, I had been extremely tired the past few days and just didn’t feel right. I bought a pregnancy test just for the hell of it. Got home, tinkled on it and watched the two lines appear and the tears started pouring down. We weren’t ready, I wasn’t ready. I cried and cried, I didn’t know what we were going to do with another child; I love my children dearly, but they are seriously a handful and to bring another one home!? I was pretty sick for the first few weeks, but nowhere near as bad as what it was with my son. To me, I feel like I have gotten a lot bigger. I know the more children you have the faster you show because everything is stretched out, it’s like your body knows what to do now and it is way ahead of the game. My husband keeps telling me what I’m seeing in the mirror is completely different to what everyone is seeing. He explained it in a great way last night, he told me I was so used to seeing my body being small, and now I am pregnant and yes things are going to change, but I am nowhere even close to the size I was with my first. It made me feel better, but it is just so hard sometimes. To look in the mirror and see all of the hard work dwindling away. He’s worried that I’ll resent this baby for changing my body. I told him he was crazy. I know, this one is our last and I’ll have the rest of my life to get back in shape. But I explained it to him like this, all of his hard work on his body lately (which he has lost 17 pounds in 2 months, his clothes are almost falling off-he looks fine as hell ;)) if something happened and all of the hard work went down the drain and there was nothing he could do about it, he would be upset too. I am doing everything in my power, running, lifting weights still, walking a ton, eating right and drinking tons of water and it still seems the weight just keeps coming at me. I am trying not to be hard on myself, I want to enjoy every second of this pregnancy. I want to enjoy the miracle God has given us. It’s a work in progress and I’m getting there. I’m doing everything right so that’s all that matters. I have the rest of my life to get my body back. I won’t ever get to enjoy another pregnancy again, which I LOVE being pregnant. Some women hate it and can’t wait for it be over, but I really truly enjoy it.

I wanted to share my pregnancy stories because it’s nice to hear another woman’s perspective and to know you’re not the only one who is having a difficult time mentally or with eating or losing the baby weight. No, losing the baby weight is not the most important thing, but to me feeling sexy when I look in the mirror, feeling healthy is a lot. Because when I don’t, I’m not myself and therefore I don’t feel like a good mother or wife. And having all of the extra baby weight (on myself) I don’t feel or look sexy. Yes, you should enjoy every single second of you baby’s life, because they are only small for so long. Time goes by quickly and you’re going to wish you spent more time staring at those sweet sleeping faces and gummy smiles instead of worrying about fitting into your skinnies. Want to be healthy and fit, but don’t let it take over who you are. Easier said than done, and I need to work on taking some of my own advice, I know.

a little something more

I have never been one to write (because I don’t feel like I’m good at it) so sorry if this doesn’t run together like a true writer’s should or it doesn’t “sound right”, but lately I have felt the need. I feel the need to get my thoughts on paper; to see them and not just hear them.
 

A part of me, feels like a horrible mother for being so concerned with my weight while being pregnant. The other part of me, only feels human. My latest post, about my eating disorder was probably the bravest thing I have done. I think I have only told my husband about who I really used to be, at least the small details of it all. There are some family and friends who know I used to have an eating disorder but not to that extreme. After hearing Heidi Powell come out with her eating disorder, it gave me a lot of confidence to do the same. For people to hear it from some average girl they went to high school, the girl next door, the girl they go running with on the weekends, the family member they see on almost a day-to-day basis. I want people to know that it can happen in the blink of an eye. I want mothers and mothers-to-be to be aware of their daughters feelings, of their insecurities AND their sons. Eating disorders don’t just happen to women. Eating disorders happen to the most popular girl in school, to the book nerd who sits alone at lunch, to the goofiest person you know; they can happen to anyone. For so long, people thought of eating disorders as something that you have control over, something people choose to do. Yes, you choose to stop eating in the first place, but once it takes over your mind, there is no turning back. It is a disease; something to be taken serious because it is fatal. It can ruin your life. I chose to overcome my eating disorder. Don’t get me wrong, it didn’t happen overnight. And it hasn’t completely disappeared. I chose to start living a healthy life.

I became pregnant with my first child and gained a lot of weight. I think I had the mentality all wrong of eating for two. I had my daughter and started getting back in shape. I got down to almost my pre-pregnancy weight and was pregnant again when she was only 9 months old. With my second, I was sick for 17 weeks. Couldn’t keep anything down and therefore didn’t gain as much weight as I did with my first. After I had my son, the weight started shedding off so quick I had no idea where it was going. I did breastfeed both babies, my first for 6 months and my second for a year. I got down to my high school (healthy) weight pretty quick after my second. I was working extremely hard in the gym and the kitchen to get all of my baby weight off. And I did it! All of my hard work had paid off.  My husband and I had been going back and forth about having a third child. He really wanted another one and I didn’t-I did in the future but about 4 years later than he did. We had finally come to a decision that we would wait (so that our kids were older more independent, we were financially stable) when we found out I was pregnant. I cried. I cried for two hours. I cried because I wasn’t ready. I cried because I didn’t want all of my hard work to go down the drain and because our children are so young that we would be having another baby! THREE babies. I just was not ready. End of story. This pregnancy has been the hardest for me. I know it’s because of my weight. But I have to overcome it. A dear friend reminded me “Give Him all your worries, your fears and He will calm your soul. It will all be okay. Find joy in this and in this moment in your life. He is trusting you to bring a child into this world and THAT is a privilege.” Words I needed to hear today. Words that cut like a knife, but words that opened my eyes to see the big picture. God has given me a miracle and I need to embrace that. I need to embrace all of the curves and stretch marks that pregnancy throws my way. As Samantha Harris said, “Instead of worrying about losing my figure, I need to embrace this beautiful time. I have the rest of my life to get in shape, right?”

Something to know..

My name is Morgan. I am a mother of two and one on the way. I am a Christian, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend and runner. Being a mother has changed my life and for the better. My children have put my life into perspective. They have taught me new things that only a child could teach you. They have a carefree life only a child can have. Becoming a mother has been the greatest blessing God has ever given me. I thank God each and every day for my beautiful healthy children.

I want to tell you who I am and what I have been through. Years ago, in high school I developed an eating disorder. I began cutting calories and running 5 miles every single day. I was in the gym for 3 hours every day after school. I would come home and lie to my parents about already having dinner. Then I would pass out on the couch because my body had nothing left to give. My calories each day got smaller and smaller. And the weight just started dropping off. Now keep this in mind, I was never heavy to begin with, maybe 125-130. I was receiving so many compliments and how great I looked. And it all went to my head. My thoughts were if it’s this easy to lose weight, by cutting calories and running a lot, I can keep this up and lose more. When I looked in the mirror, I thought “Morgan you could stand to lose a few more pounds. Your thighs shouldn’t be touching, you should be able to see your collar bone and your cheek bones should be well defined.” So I kept cutting calories and kept running more and more. Every morning I had a Special K bar. That was it. For lunch, I had another Special K bar and a fruit cup. Then I would go and run my heart out. I would get home and most days I didn’t eat dinner. Some days I had one or two saltines. I had chronic migraines. My body was trying to tell me to feed it. It was starving, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was losing more weight. After a few more pounds down, I stopped receiving compliments and started receiving concerned looks and questions about my weight. I was in denial. I was just “eating right and exercising”. I lied to everyone about what I was doing to my body.
 

Finally my mom had had enough. She called my pediatrician and asked if my weight loss was normal. I had lost 15 pounds in less than two months. 15 pounds I didn’t need to lose. They immediately told her no and wanted her to bring me in. I was still in denial. I told the doctor I was eating right and something must be wrong with me. I can’t count the number of blood tests they ran on me to find out if something was wrong with my thyroid or if something else could be wrong with me that was causing all of the weight loss. I was still in denial. I kept convincing my mom and the doctors that I was eating normally and something HAD to be wrong. After all of the blood work and still nothing found, it came down to it, I had an eating disorder. But I didn’t admit it. I remember countless times, my mom asking me if I ate dinner and lying to her. She knew better and we would sit in the kitchen floor crying with food on a plate, begging me to eat, some night forcing me to eat.

Then the day happened. We would go out to eat after church on Sundays and of course I had to eat in front of my family. I would eat the least amount of food as possible; I knew the weight would start adding up if I didn’t get rid of the food. So I started purging. I just couldn’t gain weight, I didn’t want to. Purging made me feel like I had control over everything. Not eating also made me feel that way. But it was like, “well I’ll show them! They’re going to make me it, I’ll just throw it up.” This went on for months.
 

During this time, I had been making bi-weekly visits to the doctor to keep a check on my weight. I was never allowed to see my weight. I had to get on the scale backwards, the nurse would write it down. Each time the doctor told me, I had to gain this much weight by my next visit. I never did gain the weight. I had it in my head that I wasn’t skinny enough, I could stand to lose more weight. It was about 6 months of hell for my mother and I. she just didn’t understand. I got to a point where I really didn’t understand either. My body was lacking so much food and energy I couldn’t think straight.
It was in June, one of the last trips to the doctor. I was just so tired of lying, of starving, of chronic migraines; I didn’t know how much more I could handle. I broke down. I finally admitted I had an eating disorder. I was crying, my mom was crying and I think even the doctor was. I remember the feeling of guilt, being ashamed, and regret that I had given up all control that I had over my life, my eating disorder. The doctor gave us references for a therapist for a nutritionist. We made appointments and my mom and I went. It all felt like a daydream to me. I hated every second at the therapist. She tried telling me that there was an underlying cause to why this happened. I told her “NO! I just wanted to be skinny!” I saw her maybe twice and I was done. The nutritionist I saw a few more times. Even though I admitted I had an eating disorder, I didn’t want to follow her guidelines, but I tried. I stopped seeing her too.

I started eating a little better. And the weight just packed on it felt like. But my body had been starving for months and it was holding to everything it could get its hands on. I had killed my metabolism by starving myself so the weight I put back on was unevenly distributed. I had been banned from going to the gym or running around my neighborhood. I had finally been “released” and started running and the weight seemed to distribute properly over time. I got back to a healthy weight, the doctor and my mom was happy with, but I wasn’t. I had done everything in my power to lose the weight and it all went down the drain.

To this day, I still struggle with looking in the mirror and thinking “you could be smaller”. But I have come to grasp that food is necessary. Food energizes you AND can help you lose weight the right way. I need food to live.

As a pregnant woman, who has a past of an eating disorder and body image issues, it's hard to see your body change and grow beyond your control. I am not starving myself anymore, I know that proper nutrition is the most important thing for my growing miracle. But as someone with a past eating disorder, who still struggles with it on a daily basis, it can be upsetting to see things widen and get larger. Posting about my issues during my pregnancy with my body image, it's not me being selfish (for the most part, some of it is being selfish because I don't want to see what pregnancy does to my body), it's me who is struggling with a past disease. It's me only being human. I want everyone to understand where I have come from, the battles I have fought to be where I am today. I also hope that I may reach out to other women AND men who are going through struggles of their own. So they know they are not alone and it can be overcome.