Little bit of a bump-date =)

So this week is pretty big for me. I have finally hit 24 weeks. Which means that my baby is now considered "viable," meaning if I were to go into full labor, they would do everything they could to help her thrive.
This is huge for me, seeing as two weeks ago, they thought my water had broken (which I didn't find out til 4 days later it didn't) and had told me if it had, they couldn't do anything to save my baby. I was a mess that day. Crying non stop, thinking the worst. But like I said, my water didn't break, so she is still good to go.
I've been having some serious contractions, but I am now going in to see the doctor once a week to have my cervix checked. That way they can tell me each week if the contractions are actually doing anything. So far, they haven't.
So this post will be short and sweet. But I wanted to finally post a picture of my bump. It's taken a lot of courage to post a pregnancy picture on here, seeing as the last picture I posted of myself, I was severely underweight and in the midst of my ED. Keep in mind that I am still struggling with my body image and have to constantly remind myself that, "A happy baby is worth the weight." Terrible pun, I know.

Excuse the messy bathroom. It's house cleaning day today, and the bathroom is usually the last to get done. =)
Lots of love,
XOXO Katie

P.S. THANK YOU for all the love and positivity on my last post. I appreciate each and everyone of you. <3

So many things I want to say

Since being put on bed rest last week and not able to attend school, I've had a lot of time to think, reflect, and cry. Here; let me try to explain:
First things first, fuck am I lonely. With both kids in school, I spend the entire mornings by myself. T's at work, and I have pretty much zero friends. It's not that I don't try. I try to get out there, get connected with people, other moms, anyone in general. But it's like no one wants anything to do with me. So here I sit, alone with my thoughts. Which brings me to why I wanted to write this post.
I cry a lot. Not in front of anyone, but when I'm alone. How do I say this without sounding like a horrible person? I miss the comfort of my ED. Ok, I know that sounds bad, but really, most of you can understand where I am coming from. There was something welcoming about my ED. Like I knew that when I needed a way to cope, it was there. I knew when I was feeling uncomfortable about the amount of my food or fluid intake, it was there. Always wanting to envelope me and tell me it was all going to be alright.
But see; that's the nasty thing about this monster. It wants you to think that it's the ONLY thing there to take care of you. Therefore, it isolates you from the outside world. It makes you believe that there is not another single thing that can make you feel the way it can. You become so wrapped up in your ED that anything that anyone else says, doesn't matter. That no one can possibly understand you the way that it does. It's hard for your loved ones, let alone you, to tell the difference between you and you ED. Two become one.
Currently, I am not wrapped in the vines of my eating disorder, and I think that's why I can write this post. To be thinking with my logical mind, not Ana's. Writing in my journal this morning, something pretty huge occurred to me. While in the midst of my ED, I wasn't aware of the damage it was doing to everyone in my world. I was so sick that I didn't care that my youngest was in the bathroom with me while I purged. Then to see him stick his fingers down his throat a couple days later, because he saw mommy do it. I was so sick that I wasn't aware that my oldest (who was 5 at the time of this incident), was completely capable of knowing that I was going to die because I wasn't eating, and told his therapist this.
Luckily (and maybe hopefully), my boys won't remember how sick I was when they get older. But that's not the case with T. Often, we painfully and regrettably talk about my ED. The heart attacks, the hospital visits, the countless hours I spent in the bathroom vomiting the food I just consumed. It's not like everyone didn't know what I was doing. Although I was quiet about it, and always fixed my makeup after purging, they all knew what I was doing. It became routine. And that's the way we were living our lives with Ana.
A lesser man would have walked away. A weaker man would have given up on me. But he didn't. He knew that behind all the starving, purging, cutting, and self-hatred, there was the girl that he fell in love with. Even when I didn't see her. Even when I welcomed death, embraced it with open arms because I felt there was nothing to fight for. T was there, when no one else was. He believed in me.
I'd say that about 85% of me enjoys my life without Ana constantly there. Yelling at me. Telling me what to do. Dictating what I can and can not eat. Counting every single calorie that enters my mouth. I was just telling my neighbor the other day, that it was normal for me to try to stay under 200 calories a day. 200! Then I would also go to the gym and make sure that my daily intake was in the negatives. No wonder why I was so weak. So tired. So irritable.
Now, I don't necessarily count every calorie, I usually just guess. I'd probably put my daily intake around 1,500-1,700 a day. Wow, writing that number down is kinda terrifying. But I know that I'm doing it for all the right reasons. I am currently at 110lbs. That is 31lbs above my lowest weight. I remember a point in time when I promised myself that I wouldn't let myself get into the triple digits, but alas, here I am. And I'm ok with that. For the moment anyway. I've read several articles that have said that an ED doesn't ever completely go away. That it's always in the back of your mind, in one form or another.
My biggest goal is to be ok and accept my body for the way it is after Syrsha is born. I've accepted that I will never be a size double 0 again, so I've already gotten rid of all of my "anorexic clothing." I want to love myself for the person that God intended me to be. I don't see it being an easy journey, but definitely attainable.
So I know this turned out to be a long post, and actually, I started writing it yesterday afternoon, but as we all know, life gets in the way. I've enjoyed reading and catching up on all of your blogs. Just remember that we attain perfection, but what is perfection? None of us really know. Just know that you are loved.
Lots of Love,
XOXO Katie

Here it is...well kinda....

I was scrolling through Facebook today and found an article titled "How women handle eating disorders during pregnancy." Like holy shit, there's something out there that I can relate to. And for the most part, that was the case. Except the two women who were in the interview were anorexic and I couldn't completely relate to that part. Technically, I am an anorexic bulimic. A person who doesn't eat but when they do, they will purge it.
So anyway, the first woman, Jennifer, stated that she wanted to get pregnant. And, like me, despite the doctors telling her it wasn't in her best interest since she was so enveloped with her ED, she got pregnant. Like me, it took her about 6 months to get pregnant. And like me, she had this preconceived (excuse the pun) notion that once she got pregnant, the ED would just disappear. Wouldn't that be just wonderful? Here is the link if you want to watch the video. It's about 28 minutes long.
The second woman, whose name happened to be Katie, she sounded a lot like me as well. One of the biggest things I found interesting with her is that after she had her first daughter, she gave up breastfeeding because of the overwhelming amount of food you have to eat to sustain breast milk.
These two woman, who I will point out had successful pregnancies and healthy babies, were someone I could relate to; but there is a significant difference. And that is the fact that Ana is still there every single day with me. Dictating what I eat, if it will put too much weight on me. Telling me that I will NEVER lose the baby weight. She is still there yelling terrible things at me.
One thing I do want to point out is that I KNOW that I need to be eating and eating well. I KNOW that I will gain weight, it's inevitable. I KNOW that if I want to have a healthy baby, that that baby is counting on me to give her that life. (That's right, I did say HER!!!) Unfortunately morning sickness has completely ruled me this pregnancy. And for the last week, I haven't been able to keep ANYTHING down. I actually was sent to the hospital this morning to receive IV fluids to keep me hydrated.
I think this is the most frustrating part of my pregnancy. Is knowing that I want my daughter to be healthy when she arrives, but my body is not allowing me to gain much weight. (My pre-pregnancy weight was 105. Last week I was 112. This morning I was 111.) So in all actuality, I have lost weight due to morning sickness. This is a pretty touchy topic with T. He understands that I am constantly throwing up due to morning sickness, but I believe somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks Ana has something to do with it. And maybe she does and I just don't see it?
I mean, it's not like I'm sticking my fingers down my throat to make myself throw up, but maybe somewhere hidden deep in the back of my brain, my body has trained itself to not allow food to stay in my body? I don't know honestly.
I had my "official" ultrasound last week and the tech and doctor say that our baby is growing healthy. That she is in the 53rd percentile for her growth, which is good. I think the reason why I am so frustrated with it all is that when I first found out I was pregnant, I was completely honest with my OB about my ED and all the struggles I've been through, not only the last 3 years especially, but the last 14 years that I've lived with it. And she didn't seem too concerned. And honestly, she doesn't seem too concerned with the little amount of weight I've gained. I mean, I am 21 weeks and have only gained a total of 6lbs. How is that not alarming to her?
I sit up for a minimum of 45 minutes every night imagining what the rest of my pregnancy is going to be like if this morning sickness continues. Does that mean that my daughter is going to have a low birth weight? Am I going to feel like world's shittiest mother because I couldn't do more? These thoughts are never ending. I am constantly battling my mind in one way or another. And it's exhausting.
Sorry for such a long post, but there was a lot of shit I needed to get off my chest. I hope you're all doing well, and I am slowly catching up on reading your ladies' blogs. Lots of love.
XOXO Katie