I am coming to the end of my seventh month of pregnancy. And to be honest, I’m currently living a life I never thought possible for me.
Becoming pregnant, given the years of anorexic destruction I put my body through in high school, was something that I had, in my heart of hearts, written off as a possibility for my body. I didn’t have my first period until I was 29, and even then, they were inconsistent at best.
During my battle with anorexia, at 78 pounds, being so severely depleted for so long, the toll it took on my body and reproductive system was so detrimental, I wouldn’t let my heart even begin to believe I could be fertile.
But God.
By God’s goodness and grace my husband and I got pregnant literally our first month of trying, only four months after getting married.
I have been in recovery from anorexia now for 17 years this May 19. A date in 2007 that I remember as though it were yesterday: my first day at inpatient treatment. When, I would learn later, the intake nurses thought it was a miracle I was alive, as I was the worst case they had ever seen come through their doors.
But to think of where and who I was then, compared with where and who I am now…it’s as though it is another lifetime.
Being pregnant has completely shifted my perspective on my recovery, and ignited in my soul a purpose for my life — my body — that I wish I could have known, back on May 19, 2007.
I have such vivid memories of inpatient, sitting on my cot at the nurses’ station, where I was to sleep for the first few weeks, as they feared my heart would go into cardiac arrest in the middle of the night. I remember sitting there thinking, this is it for me. I couldn’t imagine a life without my anorexia — an evil darkness that had overtaken my brain, my body, my passions, my personality, my hopes, my dreams, and had destroyed my relationships, future plans, body and faith along the way. Who was I without ED? I was in the deepest, darkest pit of rock bottom, that even the notion of a light or a way out seemed unimaginably impossible.
If only I could have seen the life that I am living now and the role of mother that I have been born into, through the growing child in my big belly.
My body has taken on a whole new role, and I see it in a completely different way, as I’m growing this precious, tiny human who kicks and prods me constantly throughout the day, reminding me of her presence, and my purpose.
No longer am I heinously scrutinizing every square inch of my body in the mirror, like I was in 2007 – enslaved to each tenth of a pound on the scale, ripping myself to shreds with the nastiest self talk that would make a sailor blush. But rather, I welcome the numbers on the scale, and delight at my rapidly expanding belly. The new dimples on my thighs, extra flesh on my arms…even my swollen feet at the end of the day: these changes in my body are such a beautiful sight, and declare the purpose of my life: to bring this precious child into the world and be her mother.
It is my purpose to teach her to love God, to love others, to love herself and her body. To embrace imperfection and find her worth in the eyes of God, who made her and delights in her just the way she is.
My body is such a gift, and an incredible instrument to carry out God’s will for my life. It is not mine to toil away…it never was. But rather, it is His, to use. It is a gift to my husband. It is the life source for my daughter. It is the temple of the Holy Spirit. And it is my soul’s dwelling place to live and love and learn and grow.
I am grateful to have the privilege of carrying this child, and I thank God for this immense blessing.
Through pregnancy, recovery has been transcended in a way. Because now, it no longer just impacts me, but it impacts my daughter. It impacts my husband. It impacts our little family. And though there is not one microscopic fleck of me that feels tempted by ED and his empty lies, my recovery has been solidified all the more, knowing that my decision directly impact my child.
In the womb, of course, my eating directly impacts her, but once she is out in the world, it will be all the more important, because I will be her strongest example of how we nourish our bodies, how to have a positive relationship with our reflection, how to speak gently to ourselves, and take care of our physical bodies. That is a role that I do not take lightly, and have spent hours in prayer, asking God to give me the wisdom to know how best to model those things.
Recovery has never been more important, and thankfully, has never felt stronger.
Which just serves as a reminder that, the greatest key to a sustained recovery, is realizing that you must recover for something greater than yourself. First and foremost, that is God. And now, I can say my daughter, too.