At the end of 2002 (on my 31st birthday!), I discovered I was pregnant.
I was thrilled… and then terrified.
Having (mostly) recovered from an eating disorder, I worried that “Ana” (aka, anorexia) would come to visit me for the next nine months. Maybe longer.
It was horrifying.
Interestingly, over the ensuing months, I didn’t become obsessed with staying thin, although I did HATE being pregnant.
Every doctor’s appointment was pure hell as I discovered I had gained weight. Every glimpse in the mirror showed an expanding belly. When people began telling me (in month eight) that I had gotten a “chubbier” face, I wanted to cry.
I have very few photos …read more