Thanks all for the concern. I have no idea at all why I self sabotage, I just eat- no prior planning, no thought, just shovel it down. Its not a conscious decision to binge, it just happens and sometimes I don't even know I've done it until I notice X, Y and Z are missing from the fridge. I'll explain a few things that have happened over the last few years, hopefully some of you lovely ladies with help me out.
I'm a very sensitive person, I take everything to heart and don't 'let go' easily. Sometimes, instead of coming on here and seeing the amazing loses inspiring me, it makes me feel like a failure. I've felt like a failure for a long time-I suffered postnatal depression after the birth of my eldest, I tried to hard to be perfect and couldn't quite meet the ridiculously high standards I set myself. I was a teenage mum, but I was about as far from the stereotype you see and hear about on Jeremy Kyle as you could possibly be. No, she wasn't planned, but I was in a loving relationship, we had our own home, good jobs and both had more than two brain cells to rub together. When she was born, I found I never quite fitted in with either the 'yummy mummys' because of my age or the teenage mums because I had NOTHING in common with them. I put myself under so much pressure to be 'The Perfect Mother', none of it was achievable or particularly worth while. I slipped into a pretty deep depression, I was lonely, tired and felt a failure. I put about 2 stone on though pure laziness. It took nearly two years of tablets and counselling to get me back to normal. Every time I felt a bit low, I'd panic that I was slipping down again. Every time I was happy, I'd question if it is true happiness I was feeling- it had been so long since I was normal, I had forgotten what 'normal' felt like.
When we decided to try for our second baby- it was probably too soon but I felt ready- I fell pregnant straight away. I had a straight forward pregnancy with Imogen, but with Mollie it was horrible. I had frequent water and kidney infections and I suffered with Hyperemesis gravidarum, which is like extreme all day sickness. I didn't eat or drink for 8 weeks because I couldn't keep it down, it was a blooming hot summer and I was incredibly dehydrated. Then at 22 weeks, I was rushed into hospital with what I thought was an asthma attack, but turned out to be a Pulmonary embolism. In the middle of the night, a large group of doctors woke me to tell me I had accidently been overdosed with tinzaparin (I think thats what it was, I wasn't paying much attention to the name, more what they were telling me, but basically it is a blood thinning injection used for blood clots in the lungs) They started rambling on about legal issues, they wouldn't even let me ring Sam. I screamed at them to leave me alone, the lady in the bed across from me spent the night comforting me as I sat crying. In the morning, a lovely doctor came and spent a good hour explaining side affects to me. There was a chance I would lose the baby, the senior consultant was wanting me to terminate, but the nice doctor arranged for me to have a scan first- I wanted to see my baby before I lost her. So I had my first scan, without Sam because he couldn't get to the hospital in time and thought I was going to lose her. But the Sonographer said she looked lovely and healthy, could see no reason to terminate. I was warned that it would be advisable to end the pregnancy, that she would be born with severe physical and learning difficulties due to her lack of oxygen, but no matter what, I was having my girlie. I was in and out of hospital for the next 20 weeks with severe kidney infections, I spent so little time with Imogen that I slipped into a small bout of anti-natal depression. But against all the odds, Mollie was born at 42 weeks, weighing a very healthy 8lbs 15oz and a beautiful, healthy little girl. I was even lucky enough to have a super short 57 minute labour- kinda felt I deserved one after the 9 and a half months she gave me
After she was born, things were great. I was being the brilliant mum I wanted to be, without too much pressure to be perfect. I breastfed her, so I started meeting other like minded mums and felt great for it. When she was 9 months old, I lost someone very close to me, and sadly, lost someone else when she was 14 months. I struggled, I ate A LOT, my parenting never once slipped, but after the kids had gone to bed I dealt with it all by shovelling food down. I wanted and needed to grieve for my lost friends and for my horrible experience, but couldn't and probably still haven't. While I was eating, I couldn't think about the bad things, it was my way of stopping myself becoming depressed. That was 14 months ago, and I'm 4 stone heavier now.
I'm sure some of you ladies will be able to spot things in there that could be the cause of my problems, I find it hard to take a step back and analyse the last few years of my life because there are still so many emotions wrapped up in it for me. I need to get myself sorted, I want to succeed on CD, but its just so hard for me at the minute. Sorry its such a long post, I got a bit carried away. If you've made it this far, any comments or observations would be a major help. Thanks in advance xx