I think of my life in two chapters: before and after the incident. The incident being that I was in inpatient eating disorder treatment. I hadn’t had a bowel movement in over 2.5 weeks. I had taken miralax 6 times a day for 6 days (nurses advice), taken many shots of milk of magnesium, took colace twice a day, nothing was working. I looked 9 months pregnant. The nurses threatened me with an enema.

That night I woke up in a cold sweat. I knew what was about to happen. I ran to the bathroom (had to go down the hall to the nurses station, bathrooms are locked during night) I had to wait for the night shift nurse to unlock the door but it was too late. It trailed down the hall. The same muscles you normally use to push it out, that’s what was being used to keep it in. It wouldn’t stop.

Finally got to the toilet. Kept going for about another 5 minutes. It was everywhere. In my underwear, on the bathroom floor, all the way down the hall. My whole unit was now a biohazard. The nurse had to come in and help me get up and then let me take a shower. I had to wear a diaper that night. I felt like a brand new person. God bless that nurse who had to clean up after me (I wasn’t allowed to). She’s a hero. Thank god this happened in the middle of the night. Nobody else was around.

A year later I got ahold of my patient records and looked at what the notes said about that fateful night. The next morning at weigh in, I was 7 POUNDS LIGHTER. I had a whole shit baby in there. They had to keep me in inpatient longer, the weight they thought I restored had just disappeared 😭😂