update

   I had planned a topic to blog about when Josh told me to just blog about what has been going on and focus on my real life for a minute. Things have been chaotic the last few days, after weeks of being away from Josh we were finally reunited on Wed and we are hoping to be in our new home this week right next door to my parent's house where we are currently staying. The same day that Josh arrived my new tube feed formula landed on the doorstep, we had been waiting a month for it to get approved by insurance. The doctor is hoping that the higher calorie formula will work better since its less volume. The last two days have had me curled up on the couch crying and clutching a puke basin as the new feed ran inside of me. I feel blessed to have a man that loves me so much that he takes care of our son and me in the tough times.
   Sadly, the news on the health front is grave. The new tube feed is going in but we aren't entirely sure how much is getting absorbed and the tube site has started leaking quite a bit. The surgeon warned us that another site wasn't really a possibility espically this soon. After my last surgery to resite my tube she said that my intestines were so damaged they were lucky they found a place for my current tube. Our options are running out and I'm freaking out. I was determined not to go back on tpn until Damien was in school, at least then he was old enough to be away from me if I end up with a line infection or whatever. I'm terrified of TPN again mainly because its not just me anymore, I don't want to be away from my baby or from Josh for that matter and I know that once we start down that road again its only a matter of time before we start talking about our other options and they scare me. I'm twenty six years old and no where near ready to give up this life that I've only just begun living in the last few years. I want to see my beautiful son grow up, I want to teach him everything I possibly can. To be honest my biggest fear is dying before damien can even remember who his mommy was. I want him to remember how much I loved him and that no matter how sick I've gotten I've always played and held him when  he needed me. I want him to be able to picture me in his mind not go off of a picture and what his daddy and grandparents have told him. Maybe that is selfish on my part, I should probably just be happy that I've been with him this long but I'm not, there are so many more adventures left for us to have.
   Its so nice to have Josh here again, he is my person, my Johnny and I'm his  June. He is the person I don't have to put on the fake smile for and pretend that it doesn't  hurt when I'm ready to cry out in pain. He holds me and tells me its ok and that I don't have to be strong and hold it together all on my own all the time. He is the one that pushes me to hook up to my tube feeds when its the absolute last thing I want to do. He takes the brunt of my mood swings and bad attitude and he still stands by me reminding me why I have to keep fighting, why I have to hook up to tube feeds that cause pain that breaks through my narcotic pain meds like they are freaking asprin. I owe a lot to him, having someone that loves you with all their heart and puts up with you when ou are being a total jerk and cleans up your vomit that is a true gift. We moved here so Josh wouldn't have to deal with everything alone, when I need surgery or I'm too sick to be up and around with the baby my parents live ten feet away. Years ago I would have thought that a nightmare but now I realize that family is important. I blamed them for not helping me enough during my anorexia years but in reality they did the best they could. We were looking through an album yesterday and I came across the birthday party they threw for me the day before they admitted me to McCallum Place...I was a hallow shell of a person, bones sticking out and eyes gazing out from their sunken in shells. There is a picture where I'm blowing out candles in two cakes, one was a regular birthday cake and the other was a plain angel food cake that my stepmom had gotten in hopes that I would eat a few bites then cut to another pic where I'm not the center of attention but in the background you see me and my stepmom having some sort of animated discussion...we were fighting  over a ninety calorie piece of cake. I look back at the many battles she had to go through with me most of which ending with me flat out refusing to eat and realize how hard my disease was on my family too. I'm blessed that they still are willing to help me and  josh like they do everyday. Its nice not to feel alone.
   So, that was just a bit of an update, we are hoping to be in our place in the next few days which is only ten feet away from my parent's. Right now I'm focusing on getting my feeds figured out and probably setting up  a doctor's appointment and hoping that Josh finds a job soon. I think this move was best for our family and I love that Damien gets to see his grandparents , aunt and uncle, and his cousin everyday. Family can be the most irritating triggerring people but  in the end they are the ones that are still there with you when the goin gets tough

Where I stand

   All day I kept coming back to this question..."In the eyes of my docs, loved ones, etc am I considered a successful case of recovery or do I fall on the other side since though I'm recovering from the anorexia/bulimia I have destroyed my body beyond much repair"? I look at where I was a few years ago, before even being allowed to go to college I was shipped off to treatment by my parents and it was completely ineffective, I was compliant only until they let me out, relapsing before insurance even gave out on day treatment after inpatient. I spent the months leading up going to college starving, purging and slicing myself up every night. I had a friend who I consider more like my family take me in a month before I left for school and it was the closest thing I would find to recovery for a long time. He basically devoted his entire last month of summer to helping me eat, keeping me from purging and making sure I didn't cut. I was blessed to have him and his family including his future wife there for me taking care of me when I wasn't even their responsibility. I left for my freshman year of college a week after leaving his house. Little did I know that I was in for some serious replases and years and years of struggling.
   Looking back on that time now I can see that I was completely blessed to have gone to a school with a doctor on their staff who specialized in eating disorders. At the time I was reluctant to go see him to  be honest with you I was basically drug there by some friends, who tried their damnedest to help me, when I was probably not even close to willing to let ED go and actually deal with my issues. The first time I saw Dr. R I was adamant that there would be no leaving school and no more treatment, which was the first thing he told me I needed. I started seeing him in November and by December found myself admitted to the hospital with a feeding tube and pretty much falling apart on a regular basis and trying to exercise when no one was watching. Dr. R saved my life, he kept me on as a patient after I had to leave school, he spent week after week listening to me come up with more excuses as to why I just couldn't eat and I had to cut, he was there through some really tough times, and he rescued me on a regular basis by admitting me to the hospital for tube feedings and IVs. He often dealt with anorexia because the real me was buried somewhere deepdown inside unable to find a voice loud enough to overpower the monster. He could have dropped me as a patient and even threatened to do so many times because I was chronic and showed very little improvement, constantly needing to be in the hospital. Looking back I can only imagine how terrifiying it was to see me everyweek covered in cuts needing to be stitched up restricting my food and fluid and exercising all the time. He use to tell me the same thing all the time, "change your paradigm"...I swear I was getting so sick of hearing it I wanted to through a bottle of tube feed at him. I can honestly say that I owe my life to him and I know others who probably feel the same way. I was so happy when I could email him and tell him that I'd made it a full year in my recovery. (FYI...doctors that specialize in eating disorders are a special kind of people because seeing young people come in all day and watching them destroy themselves, constanly in crisis it takes a toll)
   By the time I was able to listen to the good doctor's advice and change my paradigm I was alreay diagnosed with severe gastroparesis, they had removed over eighty five percent of my stomach and I had a j tube placed in my small intestine to nourish me...you would think just the fact they took most of my stomach I would have jumped up and started to recover but I didn't...I refused to do my tube feeds properly, was cutting myself on a regular basis, and taking a deadly cocktail of meds to help with depression, anxiety, and sleep. I overdosed three times in a matter of five months one of which landing me in the ICU, but I just couldn't get it, I couldn't fight it. By the time I met Josh I was half dead, simply exsisting rather than living and I was doing my damnedest to stop doing that. I can't explain what turned everything around and brought me back, part of it was Josh...we became close friends at first then a couple. He helped me in everyway he could, taking razors and sharps away when I was unable to take them away from myself, he was there to help me get off all the meds that were clogging my head, and he never walked away...let me tell you I was a train wreck. Unfortunately we learned within months of me beginning my long journey into recovery that my stomach was basically useless and my intestines were now suffering damage, I would need to be on a feeding tube forevery to get my nutrition and spend almost a year on a central line for IV nutrition. Life quickly became surgeries, countless doctor appointments and the realization that my eating disorder had destroyed my body leaving the very organs I needed to eat and absorb food pretty much useless.
   So, here I am now almost three years since I've given into my anorexia or put a razor into my flesh, 26 years old on a daily dose of narcotics to simply tolerate the pain in my intestines, a backpack full of tube feed, five trips to the OR since August, countless nights spent in the emergency room, and facing down the knowledge that I will only get sicker and our treatment options are limited wondering the answer to my question. I think I should be considered a success because if you've made it this far on this long entry you will have only gotten a taste of what I've been through and survived. I am no longer a prisoner to that monster screaming in my head that I have to cut, I have to restrict, I have to purge. I no longer spend my days doing sit ups and obsessing over numbers I can handle extreme emotions without cutting. My physical body is destroyed, I'm lucky it has made it this far with the damage I put it through, but emotionally I beat the odds. By all accounts I should be dead now and I'm here being a mother to my son, something some people thought I would never be able to do. Yes, I'm sick and that's not going to change, somedays I cry because the pain is so bad but I get through it, I get through everyday without going back. The monster is still lurking in the distance and claws its way in sometimes and I'm tempted when things get tough, but I tell it to take a flying leap and push through which is something I couldn't have done three years ago. In the end I was able to let the disease that took most of my adolescence/young adulthood, my friends, my family, and my health go...I changed my paradigm.

Feeding Tube Diet

   Picture yourself in this situation...you are being held down by nurses and doctors as another doctor forces a tube down your nose that hurts as it passes up your nose it hurts...a lot and then comes the gagging and throwing up bile or whatever as it passes down your throat. They leave you there with a guide wire down the tube to take an x ray to make sure the tube is placed properly and if it isnt they will come back in and pull it out or push it in as much as the radiologist suggests. Finally the guidewire is pulled out and they tape the tube to your face and hook you up to a pump that will pump formula into you that while its helping you its making you sick to your stomach and ontop of that your throat is killing you because there is tube down it and your nose hurts and runs and eventually you end up with a sinus infection. That was me in my anorexia...I was tube fed multiple times because I wouldn't feed myself and my body was in serious need of nutrition. I've resisted and been held down by everyone in their brother, I've pulled the tube out only to have it shoved back in with the threat of restraits. They put my feeding pump and the formula bottle inside a cage known as "the box" that has a pad lock on it so I couldn't tamper with it. Does that not sound like a crappy situation and yet this knew found diet has perfectly healthy women going to a doctor to have a feeding tube put in to lose weight.
   There is nothing pleasant about getting a feeding tube put in, if you have ever seen it done or been the one getting you know. It is absolutely sickening that they are using them now for weight loss. The very item that was used to keep me alive during my anorexia and the one in my intestine now due to the gastroparesis, an item that was intended for live saving treatments is now being used as a weightloss trick. This doctor assures his "patients" that they will lose twenty pounds in the ten days the tube is in their nose and they are running his "formula" in the backpack. The "formula" these women are placed on induces ketosis which is seriously dangerous and can lead to serious complications including death, it lacks any carbohydrates which the body needs and basically induces starvation. So, for ten days these women, most of which are brides trying to look good in their wedding dresses starve themselves and exist only on this "formula" going through the tube. Sure, they lose weight, but at what cost...looking pale and ready to fall over at the alter?
   This whole thing is completely outrageous and really pisses me off beyond belief, maybe some of it is that old eating disorder mindset...every tube shoved down my face or surgically placed in my intestine has never been for weightloss only for weight gain and maintaning my weight. I almost feel like people will stare at me now when they see me out with my backpact running my nutrition into my intestines wondering if I'm one of "those" girls who are doing it to lose weight, its setting back feeding tube awareness so much. There have been comments made by media about how "yucky" the tubes look, I've walked around in public for years with feeding tubes and I've dealt with the questions and the stares but for the most part it hasnt been too bad because people could see that I was sick. I don't consider my tube "yucky" for other people to look at, honestly I don't care what other people think about it, it keeps me alive and able to raise my son. There are so many of us that do this because we have to not because we want to. I don't understand how this quack of a doctor can justify doing this to people and taking advantage of women who already have serious body image issues if they are willing to resort to a freaking tube in their nose to lose weight. He is preying on these women who are already in a vulnerable state...brides trying to fit into a wedding dress, women who have never had a hint of an eating disorder can develope some serious eating disorder behaviors to fit into that damn dress and now here is a person telling them to hand him fifteen hundred dollars and he will give them the "miracle" cure. I wonder if he explains all the things that could go wrong like say the tube ends up in the lung rather than the stomach or what happens if they get a dangerous electrolyte imbalance and go to bed two weeks before their wedding and never wake up all to fit into their dress? Do these women understand that once the tube is pulled and they are back eating food that they weight that fell off is going to come back because they are no longer on a starvation diet?
   I suffered from anorexia and bulimia for so many years and it took so much from me and looking back I wish I hadn't destroyed my body like that. I believe that anyone who electively lets someone shove a tube down their nose to lose weight has some serious issues with body image and eating disorder behaviors and they need to see a therapist before things get worse. I think that this so called "doctor" should be booted out of the medical community and thrown in jail if he ever practices medicine again. There are so many people that are dealing with eating disorders and the diet industry just plays off of it promising more and more weightloss to women who don't even have the ten or twenty pounds to lose. But, the only way for us to stop this is to fight back, stop letting scales and calories control you...I wish that I still had a stomach and intestine that functioned and I could eat all the things I deprived myself for all those years, but instead I hook up to a really gross bag of tube feed formula that contains all the things my body needs to stay nourished, I am twenty six years old and no longer have a functioning stomach and intestines that are failing, eventually I will require once again nutrition through an IV that is placed directly into my heart and the solution that is put through keeps you alive while killing your liver and the central line puts you are serious risk for sepsis which I had a few years ago with my port. We have to rise up against this, too many young women and men are losing their fights with their eating disorders. Its hard to fight that voice in year head that screams at you to be thin, tells you that you are fat and not good enough and then see a tv commercial that tells you its ok to feel like that and they will help you drop those pounds. I've lost friends to anorexia and bulimia and I don't want to lose anymore. A feeding tube is used to give people nutrition who cannot take it in themselves not for people to shed pounds.

just me talking

   I'm coming up on three years of recovery from my eating disorder and some days it feels like I'm back at one. I've noticed since being back at home for a little while that some of my old demons have been trying to break through. I catch myself lowering the rate on my tube feeds and thinking about how easy it would be, but then I look at Damien and my nephew and that pretty much turns everything around. I'm sick enough and restricting isn't going to do anything but get me sicker quicker and get me back on IV nutrition. I guess one of my biggest triggers is that my parents don't understand how sick I am and they call me lazy or whatever when I can't jump up and do things. Like tonight they were poking fun that I'm like a ninety year old getting up and down off the floor when I play with Damien. On the outside I look great to them but lately I've been struggling a lot health wise. My j tube is showing signs of problems again and the surgeon said if this one failed she didn't know if there was enough healthy intestine left to get another one in. Its hard because I try to still take things in by mouth and even after explaining everything to them they don't understand that I deal with serious malabsorption and most of it gets puked back up, well I hide the vomitting because they would accuse me of my ED again. The pain has been horrible lately because what I've managed to keep down is just sitting there and making me miserable meanwhile my intestines are basically in constant pain all the time now whether feeds are running or not. I'm having a difficult time.
   I use to think it was bad for me to have a hard time...it must mean I'm relapsing or I'm going to relapse, but I'm not. I'm just struggling in general with everything in life right now. I don't have Josh with me and he is the only person that knows me well enough to know how sick I've been the last week, the only one who knows the seriousness of the situation. I feel like I'm back playing that role of being fine when everyone is awake and then running off to my room and falling apart only now I'm crying from the pain of the gastroparesis not cutting and starving myself. I try to be strong I'm not ashamed of my past, I'm not ashamed of the scars on my arms or the tube in my small intestine keeping me alive, but here I pretend they don't exsist even when they see them they don't "see" them. I get so sick of being fine when I'm not even remotely fine. I've accepted how sick I am and how sick I'm going to be and I fight through the tough parts everyday without relying on my eating disorder or razor blades and it bothers me that the people who love me the most don't understand how big of a deal that is. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong to blog about all of this, to want to write a book about my experiences, but at the end of the day if I can make a difference in one person's life then it would all be worth it. I really have gotten to the point that making my paren'ts opinions don't have to rule me anymore. I am finally ok with being me and its taken me a hell of a long time to get there so I'm going to keep blogging and keep speaking out because that's what feels right to me. I love my family and I know they love me we just have a different way of expressing things and I understand that now. I don't blame people for the past because its the past and I only tell about it to share my experiences, I don't carry it with me anymore letting it destroy me from the inside out.

"war on obesity"

   I've been involved in a lot of conversations lately about this "war on obesity" and I've listened to both sides of the arguement and I understand what the government is trying to do I just don't agree with the way its being done. The main thing that everyone is focusing on is childhood obesity which means taking action at schools and talking to kids about the ever so fragile subject as weight. Now, I have a sister who is only ten years old and attends a private school and she told me the other day that they are taking out the fryers at her school but she doesn't feel like they are taking anything away from her, but she has been told by people that some foods are good and some foods are bad and if she eats the bad foods like pizza she could get fat. At ten years old my sister told me that she thinks she could stand to lose a little bit of weight...my jaw hit the floor when she said this because I immediately became scared that she was headed down the same path I went down. I started out as an overweight child who was constantly tormented about her weight and had a mom that spent all of her time criticising me and telling me when I lose ten pounds I could buy a new wardrobe. Infact my mother use to give me tips that I didn't learn were eating disorder behaviors until my first treatment center. The only comfort I have is that my stepdad watched me battle my anorexia and saw how it began and I know he knows what to look for with my sister and right now she has a slight body image issue but still eats fine and isn't engaging in any behaviors...thank gooodness.
   One of my biggest issues is telling kids that there are good a bad foods and trying to convince them that if they eat cake or pizza they are going to get fat. One of the things they teach you in treatment is there are no such things as safe and unsafe foods because it is a common characteristic for people with eating disorders to have fear fooods which are generally foods higher in fat and calories. In treatment you are asked to face those fears and realize that a piece of cake or a cheeseburger arent going to make you fat or out of control. Its about moderation, we should be teaching kids that its okay to eat a piece of pizza and that its even okay to eat two, but you don't need a whole pizza and you don't need one everyday. Its about teaching kids to make good choices but not deprive themselves or be scared of food. What would a sixth grade slumber party be like without the cookie dough and pizza?
   I know what its like to be on both ends of the spectrum and by focusing on weight especially at such young ages, telling kids they are fat and all this puts the overweight children right out there to be bullied because most of the time they are portrayed as lazy people who just sit around and eat big macs all the time....they are torn down to the point of having no self esteem whatsoever and its happening to kids as young as first grade. Then there are the kids who see the overweight kids getting made fun of and they start getting this fear of becoming fat, this fear of being like that kid that's being called names so they stop eating. Its really easy for the First Lady to come out against childhood obesity and come up with all these plans to change things but she doesn't understand what putting so much worth into someone's weight does, I doubt she has been to a children's eating disorder unit where six year olds are being tube fed.
  Weight is a very touchy subject and some people don't understand how it can become such a problem for people. My mom always talked about weight and food and cared about how thin she was up until the day she died while my step mom has always expressed a confidence in her body image. Looking back I see that my eating disorder started very young, I did a lot of things as a young child that I now see were disordered. I am just so frustrated with this topic in general because its true that there are a lot of obese children and adults and they need to get healthy to avoid diseases like diabetes and heart disease but I also hate labeling people and making them feel like they have no self worth. Not all overweight people are overweight because they sit at home and eat greasy food, I was overweight and played competitive sports and I know many others who have done the same. I spend so much time telling people its not about the number and then everything ends up being about the number, I guess what I'm trying to say here is that the number doesn't need to define you...it has taken me years to understand that my selfworth does not lie in the size of my body. I'm coming up on three years of recovery and I will admit that sometimes I still struggle with my body image especially since having my son, but I can now deal with it and all my other problems without starving or purging. I just think that this "war on obesity" needs to also remember they are dealing with people, young people especially and its such a fine line to tread. I don't think people realize how quickly an eating disorder can develope and turn into a life threatening problem and then the struggle to pull back out of it.

My top ten reasons for recovery

*I write most of these with my phone so please excuse any typos or anything like that*

1. Damien-he is my everything, my heart beats for him. Becoming a mommy changed me so much it became all about my baby and I vowed I would fight for my recovery because he would never see me in a treatment center or be without his mommy because I was refusing to fight my eating disorder. I know my gastroparesis will cause us to be apart sometimes because of surgery and hospitals but not that monster, anorexia.

2. Josh- he has stayed with me and fallen in love with me despite me being sick and him having to spend to much time taking care of me. When we met I was still a full blown anorexic and bulimic along with cutting every five minutes. He fell in love with me when everyone had written me off and dealt with me while I found my way to recovery and let me tell you it wasn't easy and I was very difficult to be with. During some rough times he was there and loved me.

3. Family and friends- I put them throug so much I was a mean person, my ED turned me into a liar, I was not Andrea for years I was a walking talking eating disorder. I lashed out over the tinest things and did awful things to avoid eating. It has taken a long time for us to heal our relationship and I feel like there is more to go.

4. To keep my already crappy health situation stable for awhile longer- my body is shutting down...the gastroparesis has destroyed my stomach and my intestines are basically failing and my tube feeds aren't going well and that means they will use IV nutrition which means sepsis and other complications that would cause me to miss time with my son. If I were to let my anorexia creep back into my life it would destroy everything that much quicker. I feel like I've lost enough to it.

5. ED became so exhausting- my eating disorder became so exhausting and took over me so much that I was giving up before I found recovery....I overdosed three times in like two months. I hit rock bottom and it was either recover or die and with a lot of support from mainly josh I pulled myself up slowly and made the steps towards recovery that I've hung tight to for three years.

6. Awareness- I can now use my story to help others and if sharing my troubles and my ups and downs helps just one person it was all worth it.

7. My mom dying- I had what was basically a breakdown after my mom died. She died from alcoholism. I saw her in the hospital in a coma and all I could think of was how we were losing our mom because she refused to fight, refused to put down the bottle and that wasn't going to be me. I didn't want my life to end like hers, I didn't want to make everyone watch me throw my life away.

8. Kelly- my sister was like my baby when she was born I took care of her all the time and loved her so much. I protected her from our mom's drunken rages and when my anorexia and self harm was discovered I had to go live with my dad and sisnt see her for another few years. I left her there and she has still remained devoted to her sissy. I wasn't there when my mom got so sick kelly was being left on her own at five. I had to find recovery so I can be a role model for her and be here when she needs a woman to talk to. What kind of example was I when all I ever did was obsess about numbers and food and then sliced myself up when I got upset. Now I can show her strength and how to overcome difficulties life throws at you.

9. Grandma- when my grandma lost my mom she became so upset and let me know if anything happened to me she wouldn't make it anymore. This is the woman who spent all of her life taking care of me playing with me instead of doing adult things. She told me stories and played pretent with me...I constantly made her the groom when we played wedding :-) I love her so much and the way I was heading I was breaking her heart and it had to stop.

10. ME- that's right I found recovery for myself. I decided that I was done speding all my time obsessing about food and every single number. I just wanted to have sometime as a normal young woman. I still struggle and have horrible body image but I not longer spend my time planning meals or counting every bite of food then punishing myself all the time and for what? I was so scared to just be Andrea and now I'm learning that its ok to be me...its ok to have feelings and open my mouth and voice them...I don't have to starve or cut to keep a smile on my face.

*Recovery is a process full of ups and downs and to be honest I still struggle but I fight through it and hold tight to my reasons for recovery. Somedays I think about going back and then I remember it and look at damien and I realize its time to speak up and voice when I'm struggling and accept help which most of the time is just needing someone to listen. I ask for help if I notice I'm obsessing about my tube feeds or whatever. I now understand I deserve to be happy and I deservemy recovery. I've been blessed with a miracle, damien was never suppose to make it or me for that matter and we did I will watch my miracle grow and become a lil man...miracles don't happen often and I've got one. I was labeled chronic with my anorexia I was never suppose to recover but here I am recovery is possible!

Healing

It took me going back and forth a lot tonight trying to decide if I could or would write about this. When I woke up this morning I expected it to be an awful day mainly because it was an eight and eights never work out well for me esp this one. I didn't know if I would be able to keep the past from breaking through and ruining my Easter with Damien. Five years ago on April 8 I was raped by a guy that I trusted...he took a lot from me and damaged me for a very long time. I completely fell apart after it happened I felt so dirty and my anorexia became way worse...the thought of anything inside me, food or fluid made me freak out and my skin crawled. I was cutting really badly and wanted to die. I was lucky that I had a great doc who put me in the hospital and tube fed me and kept me hydrated and got me back on my feet.
   Things were really bad for awhile there were police reports and hearings for protection orders. I lived in a women's shelter for a few weeks to hide from him. It haunted my dreams and during the day. I would have ptsd flashbacks and freak out. I coped by not eating...I made everything about the food and kept convincing myself I could purify myself by not eating. In the end the police did nothing and made me feel like nothing. I was left feeling broken and damaged beyond repair.
   Every year my nightmares would come back around. Every year I would spend the day obsessing and remembering. Even when I found recovery from my eating disorder this day would still send me into a tailspin. This year I thought I would seriously lose it because it happened on the same exact day and I would be back at the scene of the crime. This year when I woke up it was the farthest thing from my when I watched my son dump out his basket and smile at me with those beautiful blue eyes. We went to my aunt's house and had a great time. Damien played and laughed and we had a happy day. I realized after I put damien to bed that I made it through the day without ever thinking about that son of a bitch. I realized that what I thought he damaged beyond repair has mended over time and I am stronger for it. I no longer feel like a victum anymore nor do I feel dirty. I don't feel the need to punish myself for something he did to me. Five years ago I never thought I would make it through, I never thought I would be able to put myself together again and I did. I found recovery despite him and the rest of my past. I had a good day with my son and I didn't have urges to restrict, purge or cut I just had the urge to smile and love on my baby.
   I was reluctant to share this story mainly because I've spent years being ashamed of what happened to me, years trying to cut and starve it away, and years thinking I was so damaged no one could ever love me. I spent years believing these lies and I don't want other women to feel that. You have nothing to be ashamed of if you are sexually assaulted it wasn't your fault. I think one of the biggest steps in my recovery from my eating disorder was admitting it wasn't my fault and allowing my body nourishment was not wrong and did not make me dirty or out of control. It has taken me a long time to be able to talk about this and its not easy but I needed to share it. I spent the day laughing with my son and family and did not give that son of a bitch the satisfaction of frowning or having one single nightmare.

Pregnancy after ED and with severe gastroparesis

On February 17, 2011 I was given the biggest miracle of my life...my son joined this world at a very healthy 6lbs 10oz and 19in long. It was the best moment of my life. And a moment that everyone told me I would most likely never have. After years of anorexia and bulimia I hadn't had a regular period in years and the gastroparesis had me dependent on TPN at the time (iv nutrition directly to the heart). All the doctors agreed there was no way I would get pregnant and if I did I would lose the baby probably before a positive pregnancy test could even happen.
   On mother's day 2010 I was admitted to the hospital because the central line I got my TPN through became infected and I was septic. I needed iv antibiotics multiple times a day for weeks. I spent a week in the hospital and then went home on iv antibiotics three times a day unable to run my only source of nutrition because TPN feeds the infection. Between the nasty side effects of the strong antibiotics and being unable to get nutrition I felt awful. Turns out my port was damaged and needed to be removed at the beginning of june. Through all of this I didn't have a period and honestly didn't think anything of it because I had become so use to not having one. I went to my doc a few weeks later and told her my nausea had been worse with headaches and overall sensitivity. She laughed and said maybe she should run a pregnancy test never thinking it possible I was carrying a baby. Two hrs after my appointment I got a shocked phone call from my doc informing me that I was pregnant and she couldn't believe it. The next few weeks were a blur...it was determined I was eight weeks pregnant and the iv antibiotics must have wiped my system and my birthcontrol and the impossible became possible. I had my central line removed and surgery for another j tube to be put in because we had to get thisbaby some nutrition.
   I thought the pregnancy would bring out some of those old eating disorder feelings but it was completely opposite. My docs refused to talk to me about my weight and I weighed backwards every week to see where my progress was. I was angry during the time because I wanted to know I was gaining enough wt for the first time in my life I wanted to show...I wanted people to see how pregnant I was. I struggled during my pregnancy more with my gastroparesis...I had to get my tube feeds in so damien would grow and my intestines hurt so bad that I would cry during feeds they actually had to put me on daily narcotics to make sure the feeds got in which caused me to worry more about damien. Five of the nine months I was on bedrest and only left the house twice a week to go to the doctor. I was a nervous wreck. When we went in to out appointment on feb 17 he failed his ultrasound profile before I knew it I was admitted and getting prepped for a c section and, after months of worrying and three hours of stress induced contractions my son was delivered at 12:34 pm via c section and was perfectly healthy with not a one symptom of withdraw.
   Here I was with this new baby and new body...there was no longer a little person in there relying on me to feed myself to feed him. I started to notice my old eating disorder voice trying to creep through, tried making excuses as to why I couldn't hiik up to my tube feeds and thinking about how loose my body felt, how things were now in the wrong place. I noticed the obsessive thoughts trying to come through, counting calories, negative self talk basically anorexia trying to rear her ugly head and ruin this new experience of being a mommy. At this point I looked down at my son and told that ED voice to go to hell. I was holding a little person that was never suppose to happen, he was never suppose to make it and then I wasn't suppose to make it and here we were.he was already going to have a mommy with gastroparesis, a mommy who will always have feeding tubes, iv lines and surgeries he was not going to have anorexic mommy...he was never going to visit me in a treatment center. I will admit to anyone that I am not happy with my body image but I'm learning to accept it because I have a 14 month old son that thinks the world of me and I love him more than life itself. My pregnancy was one of the scariest, toughest and yet most miraculous time of my life and there was no room for anorexia in it.  I was blessed we made it, blessed it actually happened. My son has changed my life and he gives me the courage to keep battling for my recovery and fighting my gastrolparesis and facing every surgery every painful procedure or day his smiles push me through and I mommy up and take care of him...my miracle.

Aftermath

I spent a long time today thinking about what to blog and trying to let go of the events that have happened during the week but I decided I needed this one more post to close everything. I went in for my surgery on the third and I had a very hard time relaxing knowing they were about to take away my ability to have babies but I put it somewhere in the back of my mind that if I got better or had transplant maybe they could untie my tubes and maybe, just maybe another miracle baby would be in the cards. With this thought I was able to smile and kiss my beautiful baby boy and josh before they wheeled me back to the operating room...nothing new just another OR they told me it would only be about a thirty min procedure. I woke up two hours later in the recovery rm with doctors over me and the usual muffle of the oxygen mask and pain meds being pushed. I expected to hear that everything went well it it was time to go home...not what I heard at all. They said there were complications during my surgery my left fallopian tube had a cyst wrapped around it that they felt would rupture and cause serious problems so they had no choice but remove one of my fallopian tubes during the surgery. The tell me this is a good thing, they sent it to the lab but they aren't concerned about cancer and since I was there to have my tubes tied its not as if I was planning for more children and would be worried about losing the tube which would make pregnancy harder. The next thing I know I'm being taken to stepdown recovery where I had to be closely monitored for a few more hours because my blood pressure wouldn't come out of the eighties and neither would my sats everytime I fell asleep alarms would blare. Eventually, they sent me home later in the afternoon doped up on drugs and missing more of my organs.
   I've had a ton of different emotions...anger being one of the most frequent. I'm angry that they removed parts of me without my permission, I feel like they ruined my "secret" plans of magically getting better or having a post transplant baby. Mainly, I'm just angry at myself for getting myself into this situation...if I hadn't been anorexic and bulimic then the gastroparesis wouldn't have become so severe so fast and if the GP hadn't destroyed my stomach and intestines so much then I would have more babies. But, I've become aware of the fact that there are just a lot of"ifs" in my sentences and I can't change most od them at this point all I can do is deal with the consequences and do my best to spread awareness to others. I will continue to cry and journal for awhile but it is getting easier and I know I can focus more on my son and be his mommy for as long as possible. I found out some things about my first pregnancy that I didn't know after surgery. Come to find out I was on bedrest mainly because my body was shutting down...the baby was taking every drop of tube feed and everything...my wt was dropping and I was damn lucky my son and I survived. I knew damien was a miracle baby because I wasn't suppose to be able to get pregnant but now I know how blessed I truly am to be here holding and loving on my son. They kept how bad it was getting from me because I was already a nervous mess. I guess it only makes sense that damien is my only child.
   I'm simply going to close this one with honesty...I'm angry and weepy at times...I hate that monster anorexia for what she did to me and I hate my body for turning against me one organ at a time. I accepted my stomach failing and then my inestines but then I lose a piece of my womanhood...I know there is so much more to me than ovaries and fallopian tubes but I feel like I've lost something close to me and I'm coping in my own way. I know how blessed I am...I have a life now that is tough...its tough being sick but I have a better life now being a mommy with GP and intestinal failure dealing with surgeries and all that than I did with my eating disorder. All my ED did was give me a false sense of protection from my feelings and life...I obsessed about food and numbers and couldn't love anyone because I was too busy hating and punishing myself. Though I am in the aftermath of a difficult experience I am still in a better place and blessed.

Ps_taking suggestions for next blog topic

Heartbroken

Tomorrow I will go in for another surgery but this time I won't wake up with another tube or central line but I will wake up unable to have anymore babies. I feel like I'm losing a huge piece of my heart...it was a miracle that I have my son and he is the best thing I've ever done and being a mommy is the one thing I feel like I was truly meant to be. I always thought we would have more little ones, maybe a little girl, a little sister or brother for Damien. They say another pregnancy will kill me and most likely the baby and asked me what that would be like for Damien to lose his mommy and Josh to lose his future wife. I know I have to let them do it because I want to see my son grow up but I'm angry and grieving. Because of my anorexia, because of years of destroying myself I caused a stomach disease called gastroparesis to become so severe that my stomach and intestines don't work and have been cut on so many times that when you look at an x ray nothing is where it is suppose to be. Because of this I live in a state of constant malnutrition and I have to be fed through a tube in my small intestine or a central line. Because of my mistakes and the way I treated my body I will never be a mommy again, I will never be able to hold another baby and watch them grow. I love my son with every fiber of my being and the day I held him I knew I wanted more...I wanted another baby with josh. I feel like a failure...I feel like less of a woman. I hate that monster that took me over and destroyed my body...I hate my body for not working and I hate me for allowing it to happen. I am sure some people think I'm being dramatic but when you have screwed up and disappointed everyone in your life and the one thing you've been good at and love will never happen again. I feel like I'm robbing damien of a future playmate. I am devoted to my son, to being his mommy and I know this is what is best for my family but I am heartbroken and hurting. I have to let them wheel me away to surgery and cut me up not because of my GP for once not because its a medical emergency but because they tell me another baby would use me up like a parasite and there would be nothing left. I feel alone...I feel like a failure. This hurts more than anything I could have expected...I've been under the knife and woken up with pieces missing before but this is something completely different its not my stomach they are taking. I just thought I would share what this feels like and another reason anorexia takes from you.

Self harm

I've been called emo, psycho, attention seeking, a sinner and much more mainly because no one could understand why I was cutting myself. I decided to blog about self harm because it was a big part of my life during my eating disorder and so many young people suffer from it and feel completely judged or alone. I started cutting myself my junior year in high school right about the time I started "dieting". I still can't tell you what made me do it, it wasn't for attention or some fad that everyone else was doing. I was trying so hard to be perfect...I wanted to be perfect in school and all my extra activities, I wanted to be the perfect big sister, the perfect daughter, I wanted my mom to be proud of me. I was spending all my time thinking about food and trying to seem happy and my usual self at school while failing like a failure at home. Bringing home As, losing wt, taking care of my sister nothing seemed to make my mom happy. I kept thinking if I could just be better she would stop drinking, but nothing worked. The screaming inside of me built and built until one day I cut my arm open and watching it bleed feeling the pain was like a relief...like a ton of bricks were off my chest. It was one of those things that I thought would only happen once but it kept happening more and more frequently...it made everything easier...smiling was easier to fake around people I used it as punishment when I ate over my "approved" calories...it quickly became an addiction. I've heard cutters described as attention seekers or emos but I never did it for attention in fact I didn't even get caught for over a year I just wanted to make the pain easier to deal with. The addiction became out of control faster than I ever could have expected...I needed to cut deeper and more often. This lasted all the way through high school and college. My very last cut was three years ago on fourth of July and required six stitches. I have scars everywhere, people stare but I've stopped being ashamed of them. In treamtent I met so many other girls with eating disorder who were cutters and I felt like I wasn't so alone anymore or such a freak. Cutting is not a fad it is a serious and very dangerous addiction. When my friends would take my razors and hide everything they thought I could hurt myself with I went crazy...I would break glasses, picture frames anything to accomplish my need to get the bad out. Cutting was a release for me, for some its the opposite they feel like they are numb and cutting makes them feel alive. More people than you know have struggled with self harm it can come in the form of cutting, burning, hair pulling, even obsessively getting tattooed or pierced. For me my anorexia and cutting went hand and hand I wanted so desperately to please everyone esp my mom and I just couldn't do it. I know its hard for people to understand if they have never had the urge or dealt with the addiction but its so important to get help for the person who is self harming. This doesn't mean strip searching your daughter every night looking for cuts...the behavior didn't start overnight and its not going to stop overnight. The most difficult part of everything was the way people treated me...they judged me as a sinner, as an attention seeker not someone with a life threatening addiction. The urge doesn't go away I have just learned better ways to get through it...there are days I want to run for a razor and cut my problems away but the fact is that they are still there the next day when the bleeding stops. I decided to tackle the subject because its still considered so taboo...we can't change things if we don't speak out. If you know someone who self harms talk to them don't judge them or isolate them be their friend and if they are young its ok to tell an adult my friends did and I was angry for awhile but my parents needed to know. It took years of therapy and treatment and really working hard on my eating disorder recovery to stop cutting but I've managed it. The scars don't go away and to be honest I'm not ashamed...they are apart of me, apart of my story a story that I'm ready to tell.