I'll admit my finger is not exactly on the pulse of Hollywood happenings. I have far too much going on in my life to add celebrity watching to the list. However, when there is a natural or home birth in Hollywood (things near and dear to my heart), the news usually crosses my path one way or another. And so I was both surprised and pleased to read yesterday that Jessica Alba's new daughter Honor Marie Warren was born via a natural hypnobirth.

I've been struggling with a secret, which is this: I'm really, really not in love with my body right now. I have, been keeping it secret for two reasons: 1) it's totally new to me - I've never really struggled with my body image, even after my last pregnancy, which added padding where no padding had hitherto existed, and so it just feels foreign and weird and (obviously) bad, and 2) it also feels so, I don't know, anti-feminist or anti-woman or anti-me (which, really, collapses into a kind of counter-womanism, to be anti-yourself as a woman) and I just so don't want to be that.

I gave birth six weeks ago. Since then, I've lost a lot of the baby weight. Partly because the baby that I was carrying was so huge that his expulsion from the womb represented a massive weight loss, and partly because I've hardly been able to eat anything since he was born, what with his unremitting need to be held ALL THE TIME HOLY HELL. Hardly anything but cookies, that is, and maybe the odd bagel or two. Which, you know, is not the best post-partum diet.

About nine months after I had my first child, I went (with the kiddo in tow) to my first Mothers Acting Up meeting. It was my first foray, at least post-children, into an organized activist group. While the timing wasn't right for me to become a regular member, I gleaned a piece of knowledge from that meeting that I think will always stay with me. That is that mothers as a whole are a very, very large group, and if they use their power for good, they can become a force to be reckoned with.

When I first started breastfeeding my first child, I was totally anxious about nursing in public. Was anyone looking? Was anyone freaked out by my boob? I sought out nursing rooms wherever I could, until it became clear that if I was to move about in the world with my child and not spend all of my time in stuffy nursing rooms or - horror - washroom stalls, I would have to chill out and just bare the booby. And so I did. And it was, mostly, fine.