This spring has not been smooth sailing, best of circumstances, weather.
It’s been nonstop transitioning; it’s been sacrifice; it’s been relearning who I am in the midst of irregular hormones and a husband on the road; it’s been finding my voice while putting compassion first.
It’s been hard and it’s been tiring.
Honestly, its felt like a complete loss of control over everything in my life, which may or may not have been God’s plan for my faith. But for a control freak like myself it’s been excruciating. Pregnancy is hard, and, while I’m not the only woman to ever be pregnant, every single woman who is deserves to be treated that way.
We are hormonal. In my case overly hormonal (even the doctors agree…my hormone levels is that for someone carrying multiples….nope – just one hormonal gypsy girl and myself).
Pregnancy is hard under the best of circumstances; pregnancy and all the body changes are hard even when you don’t battle an eating disorder…I do.
They don’t go away; you learn to manage them.
Every one who has, or walks with someone who has, an eating disorder knows that they have triggers. Things, people, situations, etc. that make it difficult to cope with life in a healthy way.
You know what makes that hard for me…my body growing and changing every single day… my hormones going crazy and taking away logical reasoning…feeling like I have no voice in my own home…feeling like I have a complete lack of control over pretty much every single thing going on.
And yes, I fully, 100%, believe God is in control and this too will be used for His glory and plan.
But it’s hard.
And people telling you how much bigger you’re getting does not help.
Pregnancy is beautiful in so many ways. That does not mean I feel beautiful during this process. It is a very private journey between mother and child (sorry dads) that manifests in a very public way…a growing baby belly.
Here’s the thing, body image is hard for 90% of females (that’s a made up statistic but my guess is its actually closer to 99%). I don’t comment on your growing or changing body. Do not comment on mine.
This journey I’m on creating a family isn’t a spectator sport. Unless I ask, just assume your advice, comments, and observations about my body are not needed. Nor are your hands touching me.
I’m hormonal. I’ve struggled with an eating disorder since middle school…this is all public knowledge, pull out some common kindness and act accordingly. Because I won’t tell you off when you do it or be rude…but all day long I’ll struggle with the comments you’ve made.