Why Pregnancy Has Made Me Love My Body

I have always had issues with my body. Whether it be body image in itself, or whether it’s the frustration and depression that comes along with various illnesses.

As you may be aware from my other articles, I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and so I’ve always hated my mind. I couldn’t understand why I had to suffer so much. What had I done so badly that made me deserve this? Nothing. The answer was nothing, and I realise that now. Mental illness doesn’t pick people that are bad, and it doesn’t pick a time when you’re life is going wrong, it can strike anyone at any time.

I also have Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). Yes this may seem like a minor ailment to some, but for me it meant hysterically sobbing as it felt like a thousand knives were simultaneously stabbing at my abdomen because I’d eaten one thing wrong.

My back has always given me trouble. I have a dowagers hump, which I was told at 18 it’s common in your 50’s, with no explanation, knots that never leave and back spasms that could leave me unable to walk properly for weeks. No medical professional ever found a reason for this, so I was given a few physiotherapist exercises and left to deal with it using those and deep heat.

This in itself was enough for me to despise my body. I felt like it didn’t work properly. That it didn’t do what I needed it to. Then came the good stuff.

I had a hormonal coil put in in July 2016 as my form of contraception. It hurt like hell but I got through it as I was only 18 and knew I wasn’t ready for a baby. My periods were better after that, less painful and lighter. However they became more sporadic. I thought this was due to the coil and left it that. Over the following year I put on over 4 stone/ 25kg. Having had bulimia at 14 and just 9 stone, reaching 14 stone was extremely difficult to handle. I blamed this all on the coil, as well as pain during intercourse. So by October 2017 I got it removed.

Over the ensuing months I lost no weight. The pain didn’t ease, my mental health actually got worse and my periods disappeared after November. So after numerous visits to the Doctor I finally got referred for an ultrasound and he confirmed my fears... that I had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). This in itself crushed me as I know it’s a lot harder to conceive with PCOS and I wanted children with my partner more than anything else in the world. The sonographer then followed with ‘you also have a bicornuate uterus’.

What? What does that mean. ‘It’s an malformation of the uterus, it means it’s heart shaped instead of the usual shape.’ I was shocked. I didn’t even know there was such a thing. So there I was, lying vulnerable with a man casually telling me that on top of my faulty mind, spine and bowels, that my ovaries and my uterus were also abnormal. Upon leaving I immediately googled what it meant and could only focus my eyes on three words. 67% miscarriage rate. Over and over again through my swollen teary eyes I could see those words floating in front of me.

I’d essentially just been told it would be difficult to conceive, then if I did manage it would be difficult to keep them, and if I managed to fight all those odds I would still have a lot of complications. I cried all day. Every time I saw a baby I started bawling all over again. All I wanted was to be able to give my partner a child. Our child. And so three days later, after having a little time to process that information, we decided to stop using protection and to just pray that I might fall pregnant eventually.

On April 12th 2018 I found out I was 4 weeks pregnant. The first day was pure euphoria. Day 2 was pure panic, and after that was back to joy. Do you know what helped with that? My mind. My mind told me not to give up and to prove the Doctors wrong. My ovaries that were covered in cysts helped create this baby. My uterus that was malformed let the baby stay there in comfort. My back is the one that is helping to support and carry this beautiful life growing inside of me. Granted, my bowels aren’t doing much, but everything about me that I hated and saw as dysfunctional has given me everything me and my partner ever wanted.

The extra stomach fat? That helped keep me healthy whilst I was throwing up with morning sickness, and helps protect my baby. The stretch marks? Yeah I know they came from the weight gain but I don’t care anymore. I am so so proud of my body for creating and carrying life that I don’t think I could ever hate it again. Yes I suffered, and yes the pregnancy so far hasn’t been the easiest, but my god I am so proud of my body.