As a second blue line appeared on the pregnancy test, I felt I was having an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t be pregnant.
My daughter, Heidi, was only nine months old, and I’d recently become a single mother since splitting with her dad.
I’d taken the test as a last resort, because I was regularly experiencing a strange fluttering sensation in my stomach, very similar to how I’d felt when I was pregnant with my other two children. But the dates surely didn’t add up?
Convinced the test must be faulty, I booked a private scan, hoping to be reassured.
I wasn’t even looking at the screen when my life changed in seconds as the sonographer announced: ‘Congratulations! You’re 20 weeks pregnant!’
My mum, June, had come with me to the appointment, concerned that something was wrong. ‘How on earth did we miss that?’ she asked me, equally shocked.
I knew why. I used the coil before Heidi was born but, as I was still breast-feeding her, my periods hadn’t returned.
And, embarrassingly, I was 7st overweight. My stomach was so big that I was well into my fifth month of pregnancy – and I hadn’t even noticed.
I was always considered ‘big’, even at primary school. To my humiliation, when I was ten, Mum was called in to discuss my weight with the teachers, and I was told to wear a sports bra for PE as schoolmates teased me for my weight.
Over the years, I’d lose a bit then put it back on – I didn’t know how to diet successfully so I’d starve myself, then fill up on comfort food.
In six months, Brooke Mills lost a massive 5st on the Cambridge Diet Plan, swapping size 20-22 clothes for size 14. Since then, she’s lost another two stone and is now a size 8-10.
Brooke decided to make a change to her diet after scrolling through snaps of her children on her phone and realising that she wasn’t in a single photograph, as she always hated having her picture taken and generally ducked away from the lens
At just 20, working in retail, I became pregnant with my eldest son, now 11, and I found myself craving crisps and fizzy, sugary drinks. I didn’t understand nutrition or know what I should be eating, so I gave in to my yearning for junk foods, and by the time he was born I’d put on several stone.
Heidi was born in 2016 and I relied on sugary snacks for energy as well as rewards for getting through the day.
Once the children were in bed, I’d watch Netflix dramas on the sofa with a two-litre bottle of Coke or fizzy orange, not realising that each one contained a massive 840 calories and, horrifyingly, the equivalent of 50 teaspoons of sugar.
I was exhausted, so when Heidi cried in the middle of the night, I kept myself awake during 3am feeds with a can of Red Bull – that was another 12 teaspoons of pure sugar, but I didn’t read the labels and had no idea.
Not surprisingly, although I tried diets occasionally, including calorie counting or cutting down on carbs, nothing worked.
When I confided in friends, and admitted how miserable I was wearing big, boring clothes, they’d try to dismiss my weight concerns, saying: ‘But you’ve got such a pretty face!’ It was kind of them, but it didn’t change how I felt when I looked in the mirror – fat, frumpy and old long before my time.
Then, I swiftly had to come to terms with the fact that I was expecting a baby in four months’ time, though I was no longer with the father.
Suddenly alone and pregnant with a toddler and a baby to care for, the ensuing weeks were inevitably stressful, and at my weigh-in before I was induced, I was 21st and wearing size 22 maternity clothes.
Brooke, pictured with her two eldest children, Digby and Heidi, was 7st overweight and her stomach so big she hadn’t noticed she was five months pregnant
I’d put on at least two stone during pregnancy – I knew my size wasn’t healthy, and so did the doctors. It concerned me, but I couldn’t find the willpower to diet and told myself I’d lose it when the baby came.
I adored my new baby, Dudley, now eight, and I loved being a mum of three, but though I was busy and outwardly happy, my self-esteem was at rock bottom. I just didn’t have the energy to think about losing weight properly.
I was juggling nappies, school runs, sleepless nights and money worries, and food became my comfort.
Things changed in the winter of 2020. After several tough months stuck at home in Essex during lockdown, although I’d lost some of the baby weight, I was still a size 20 and 16st 8lbs.
One evening, I was scrolling through recent snaps of the children on my phone and noticed with shock that I wasn’t in a single photograph. I’d always hated having my picture taken and generally ducked away from the lens – but I now realised they wouldn’t have any photos of their mum to look back on when they were older.
That was what finally persuaded me to take action.
I felt I needed a proper regime where eating was made simple rather than just trying to cut back, so I signed up for the Cambridge Diet Plan, which meant eating meal replacement shakes, soups and low-calorie noodles for the first few weeks.
It wasn’t easy. I was eating far fewer calories, fat and sugar than I was used to, and I also had to go cold turkey on my daily fizzy drinks habit.
For the initial three months, I suffered terrible headaches and mood swings. Several times, I felt like giving up, but to motivate myself, I replaced Diet Coke with sparkling water and every week, I made myself take a ‘progress photo’ so I could see any little differences.
Over the weeks, I added lean protein and occasional low-calorie snacks, and as the weight dropped off, my motivation increased.
Gradually, my mindset around food began to change – I no longer automatically reached for ice cream or ate treats on the sofa while watching TV.
Instead, I increasingly thought of food as an energy source, and was drawn to healthier choices as a result. I was desperate to be healthy for the children, and I longed to wear stylish clothes.
Within the first six months I lost a massive 5st, going from 16st 7lbs to 11lb 7lbs, and swapping size 20-22 clothes for size 14.
Since then, I’ve lost another two stone, taking me to 9st 5lbs and a size 8-10. I’ve got so much more energy now, and I’ve found time to become a diet consultant myself.
Not only that, I have managed to keep the weight off for three years without following a restrictive diet plan.
The hardest part isn’t losing the weight – it’s keeping it off.
I still get ‘food noise’ in my head, telling me to eat rubbish, but I’ve learned how to overcome it. You need those hard days and hard weeks to train your brain, otherwise you’ll end up back at square one.
I stick to a regime of protein, healthy fats and lots of veg. Knowing how much better I look and feel is my motivation, and running around with the kids keeps me fit.
Before I lost the weight, I found getting out of bed each day a struggle. Now I wake up naturally around 6am, excited to begin the day.
Looking back, it’s hard to believe how much weight I was carrying as I tried to keep up with three young children. Even now, I couldn’t walk round the park carrying a 7st backpack – but that’s what I was lugging with me every day.
Sometimes, I wish I could meet my old self and tell her how much she’s got to look forward to, and how much happier she’ll be at 33 than she ever was at 23.
I’ve not just lost weight, I’ve discovered who I am without it holding me back. That’s a far greater gift than getting into size eight jeans.
As told to FLIC EVERETT
