Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

something was off—and a trip to the doctor confirmed the news. We couldn’t have been more
thrilled. We wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but the doctor suggested we stay mum on our big
news until our second trimester (miscarriages are common during the first 12 weeks of pregnancy).
Keeping a lid on our new addition for the three months was brutal—but necessary. I knew the
announcement would attract a lot of attention, so I didn’t want anyone to know until I cleared my first
trimester. Looking back, I’m surprised no one at Peepshow guessed when I suddenly stopped arriving
backstage with my signature large Starbucks iced Americano clutched in my paw!
My biggest concern was how I was going to finish my commitment to Peepshow—it would be
impossible for me to perform through the end of the year. I’d certainly be showing by then and I’m
pretty sure producers didn’t envision their sexy lead with a growing baby bump. When I finally was
able to break the news to my employers, we decided how long I would stay in the show (through mid-
October 2012, which marked the fifth month of my pregnancy), and they began their search for a new
headliner who could start a few months earlier than anticipated.
(People sometimes ask me if I was worried that performing while pregnant might somehow harm
the baby, and my answer is “of course not!” I was used to the physical demands of the show and my
doctors approved every move I made. If anything, I think performing made me healthier than I would
have been sitting on my butt doing nothing. I had an amazing pregnancy and stayed in great shape—
though some of the costumes were altered to allow for a little more modesty, I didn’t even have to
loosen my corset throughout my run in the show. I believe that many sacrifices need to be made in
order to do your best as a parent, but I also believe you don’t have to abandon your whole life.)
I vowed not to cry on my last night, but that was impossible. The outpouring of love I received
from the cast and crew was just too overwhelming—and I couldn’t help the tears. These were tears of
joy . . . the best kind. Over the four years I spent with Peep, I’d grown tremendously: from the
insecure, unsure Playboy outcast to the confident, successful mommy-to-be.
But it didn’t take long for the vultures to start circling.
In the wake of my departure, Angel, my understudy, was summoned back for six weeks while
Peepshow found and trained my replacement. Before my dressing room door even fully shut behind
me, I received word that a certain someone had already contacted Peepshow’s producers, begging
them to hire Kendra for the lead instead of the rumored front-runner: Ice-T’s wife, Coco Austin.
“How dare you!” I yelled into my cell phone. I was irate, digging my nails into the palm of my
hand. After I had spent months explaining to him why this idea made me so uncomfortable, I couldn’t
believe he had the audacity to even attempt such a betrayal. I’d been foolish enough to think we had
developed a friendship over the last seven years, but obviously, I was wrong.
“And I’m pregnant right now,” I screeched, my blood boiling. “I don’t need the stress of a public
feud with Kendra.”
He sat silent. What could he say? Finally he came back meekly with the confession that he
thought if there was a feud between Kendra and me it would be good publicity for the two of us.
“That’s the kind of publicity Kendra likes, not me,” I said. “I don’t want it!”
Despite his efforts, Peepshow chose Coco to debut as the new headliner. After a few months, the
show officially closed. It was a shame to see such a wonderful show close, but as they say, all good