Recently at therapy (7 years and counting!!), my therapist asked how I felt about the drastic changes my body was undergoing. I didn’t have an immediate answer, and then realized that I hadn’t actually thought about my altering appearance, it hadn’t sounded off any alarms or raised any cause for concern. This surprised me, given my decades-long volatile relationship with my body.
Right before my second embryo transfer, I had a moment of panic thinking about how I had no disciplined exercise routine, any semblance of which had gone out the window while preparing for IVF. I hadn’t gotten anywhere near those washboard abs which only existed in my fantasies. That certainly wouldn’t be happening any time soon.
Pregnancy certainly won’t be the cure-all for my bodily hangups. I viewed my body as something that disappointed me and failed me for so long, when in reality it has been serving me this whole time without being granted an ounce of compassion. Even if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, I needed to see that what my body was doing day in and day out was significant enough, not deserving of constant comparison, control and criticism (the dreadful Three Cs!)
I’ve actually had a lot of fun getting dressed through the second trimester. The pool is smaller, and it’s a challenge I’ve enjoyed. I feel a smug vindication in my clothing choices over the years, which I’ve been able to incorporate into this new stage. And unsurprisingly, Dries continues to be my lord and savior!
Dressing for TWO 🤰🏽
May I just say, the human body is incredible! The first trimester and a half was unlike anything I could’ve expected. I spent nearly three months in bed, unable to eat, read, write, hold myself up, do any of the things I’d always taken for granted. It was a terribly difficult time and I was enraged that I hadn’t known that this could happen, or that it’s even fairly common. I felt guilty for how miserable I was having wanted this for so long and after a failed embryo transfer, worrying about whether baby could sense my feelings and leave.
But we’re halfway through and we made it! It’s going to be a beautiful fall ❣️
Finally seeing my work in the flesh, my first spot of writing in print for Vogue Australia!
For those who work in the industry, seeing their name in print may not be the biggest deal. I’ve been writing on and off for 15 years. As someone incredibly terrible at networking and putting myself forward, there was a lot more off than one, and often I offered others advice on how to get in with publications I’d dreamed of writing for. If anyone put my name up for something, I’d shrink, and you could expect to never get a response to that e-mail. The sight of my work makes me cringe and I want to crawl into a hole if asked to talk about it. It’s a miracle I made it here, so let me make a bit of a fuss about it. Turns out I look good in print so hmu if you’re in need of a breath of fresh air 💅🏽
Massive thanks to my husband who tracked this down on eBay and purchased from a Pokemon card reseller in Australia.
