Eight years ago I ran across Jenny McCarthy’s book “Belly Laughs” at Target. I was three months pregnant, and eager to read anything about what was going on in my body, so I hurled the book in my cart along with a shit ton of ice cream and Cheezits.
My horrible eating habits were only partially due to pregnancy. I was depressed. My husband and I had recently moved over a thousand miles from where I called home, and I lost the safety net of friends. I was also nervous about losing the baby to miscarriage, so I wasn’t in the best state of mind.
Jenny’s books turned out to be a God send. They perked me up instantly. She had her son three years before I became pregnant, so she quickly became the big sister and best friend I was missing. She wasn’t afraid to talk about hemorrhoids and embarrassing gas that happens during pregnancy, but did it in such a way that gave me a much needed laugh in my otherwise gloomy world.
Even after I had my baby, Jenny’s books continued to help me through the transition with her “Baby Laughs” book . She reassured me it was ok for new Mom’s to be frazzleed. Most importantly though, she put out the message of love. That love was the most important thing between a mother and child.
Of course I became a huge fan. Every time she wrote a book, I went out and bought it hoping for more of the same humorous, sisterly advice she gave.
But then things changed.
When Jenny wrote her book “Louder Than Words,” I was moved to tears. I was touched by her story, and I have no doubt it was heart wrenching to watch her son go through what he did, but I couldn’t believe anyone would follow her medical advice.
First of all, Jenny is smart and entertaining, but she is a drug addict. She talks blatantly about her use of Ecstasy during her playboy days, and lots of rumors have swirled around about her cocaine use. She also admits to starting smoking early in life, had an addiction to Vicodin before pregnancy and recently endorsed e-cigs. For me though, the strangest thing I ever read about was a strange medical procedure she went through to delay her period so she could have sex with a guy.
In addition to her drug use, Jenny has had tons of cosmetic procedures done in the name of beauty that could have contributed to her sons problems. Some women won’t even dye their hair for fear of hurting the baby, but Jenny had teeth whiteners, a boob job and Botox and God knows what else…all in addition to the bleach.
Honestly, it’s one thing to follow her advice about panty liners, and quite another to listen to her medical opinions. Jenny McCarthy has put so many bad things into her body, shots are likely the last thing that triggered her sons problems.
All in all, these days I kind of feel sorry for Jenny that she would trash her body in so many ways, and then turn around and blame shots.
I doubt the irony is lost on her. Why else would she start acting out by getting more tattoos and dying her hair pink?
I suppose for her, she’s an outward rather than an inward blamer. Deep down she knows things are her fault, but she can’t accept responsibility. Maybe that’s why she’s been through so many relationships–but that’s another article.
Pieces of Me 