#EDAW2015, #effyourbeautystandards, #spoonieproblems and self hate (TW)

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I don’t get on with my body very much. In fact that’s quite an understatement. And today that self loathing hit me like a sledgehammer. I’ve got a romantic day out with my husband planned, at a spa, we’ll be getting massages and spend time in steam rooms and jacuzzis. It all sounds heavenly. The problem is that I need swimwear now, so I thought I’d pop in to town and pick up a swimsuit. In my excitement about the spa day I forgot just how bad it could be. As I stood in the changing room, listening to the size 8 teen in the next cubicle complain she was too fat and needed to be at least a size 6, and staring at myself in the full length mirror I felt utterly broken.

There I stood, size 20, an overhanging belly, fat dimpled thighs and upper legs, sagging boobs, and massive silver stretchmarks cobwebbing their way across large swathes of my flesh.. I felt disgusting. I wanted to be sick, I wanted to starve, I wanted to binge, I wanted to cut and carve and tear away chunks of flesh. I wanted to physically hurt.

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One year on

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Today is the 24th of January, a spectacularly uninteresting day to many I imagine. For me it was the start of a traumatic experience, an experience that is still ongoing, but there is finally a light at the end of the tunnel.

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World Prematurity Day: Bonding can be hard

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Monday 17th November 2014 is World Prematurity Day, a day for talking about around 15 million babies born prematurely worldwide. My daughter is one of them, and while I was aware of premature babies prior to her birth I was most definitely ignorant to how hard it could be for the families of these tiny little miracles. I learnt the hard way, and it could have been harder still, I am very fortunate to live in a country with an amazing health service where babies like my little girl stand a good chance at life.

Around 60,000 are born in the UK, and the best charity to follow about this is Bliss, also a wonderful charity to donate to, they have been a fantastic support through some very tough times and do a lot to help families with babies in SCBU, including working with doctors and nurses to make sure care for prem babies and their families is as good as it can be. I am writing my story to share, and I advise you to follow them on @Blisscharity for more stories.

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Abortion – Yet another opinion piece

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I had to write this, I always keep going to and then never quite do. I’ve deleted so many drafts already. So with the Josie Cunningham story all over Twitter I thought I’d try again.

I will start by saying, I’m pretty good at avoiding popular culture, have never watched Big Brother and had never heard of Josie Cunningham until I started seeing tweets about her, and I wouldn’t have read more except for the fact that I have strong opinions on abortion and that drew me in. However it does mean I’ve gone into it with no opinion on her at all.

All I have to go on is my own opinions on abortion. So here we go.

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Dear future self..

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Hello future self, am hoping you’ll never need this blog post, maybe I’ll be lucky and you never will. For other readers this is about pregnancy, specifically mine, if you’ve never been pregnant you might want to look away now, this isn’t going to be a fun read!

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Not another ginger biscuit

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Pregnancy is a wonderful time, your skin glows, you feel radiant and blissful… ahahahahahaha!

Sorry, couldn’t help myself. This wonderful idyllic view of pregnancy may actually exist, but my experience of it couldn’t be further from it. You see in both my pregnancies I’ve suffered with hyperemesis gravidarum (HG), while at first glance it appears to be morning sickness it is actually quite a leap from morning sickness to HG. You aren’t just a little bit ill with HG, you are quite seriously ill, and it is common for HG sufferers to be admitted to hospital at least once during their pregnancy because of it.

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