Pregnancy is not Glamorous...

And anyone who tells you otherwise is lying! Trust me, I’ve done this quite a few times. People tell me I’m glowing, that I look cute and not fat, etc. But no matter what people say, somedays (okay, a lot of days) I feel like the frumpiest creature alive! Jason tells me to let it go and just enjoy the pregnancy. After all it is our last. I’m trying, truly I am. And I am aware of how blessed we are and how far we’ve come from when I was pregnant with Jaxon in the mountains of Western Virginia, crying on a daily basis and losing my mind, but...

I’m not sure how to explain what I feel to anyone who has never been pregnant. I do not feel beautiful. I do not have the energy most days to try and make myself look beautiful. I don’t want to invest any more money on beautiful maternity clothes since this is the last time I’ll need them. So most days I throw on whatever is clean and covers my belly, throw my hair into a bun/ponytail/etc, moisturize (cannot afford to skip that), and I’m done. Its what I can manage right now. But every time I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I do not recognize that reflection: she looks tired, run down, and bloated, not to mention the size of Mac truck from the side...

I said this pregnancy would be different: I would exercise, watch what I ate, gain no more than 20 lbs., and rejoice in my final prenatal foray! Well, I have two gym memberships and am lucky to make it to Aqua class twice a week; most days I don’t even know what I’ve eaten; and rejoicing usually slips my mind. 

Logically, I know that raising 3 kids under 8, managing our household finances, and getting my MBA while pregnant does not leave much room for ANYTHING else. So why do I still feel like I should be doing more? Why do I feel like I’m losing out on this final journey? Who stole my joy??? More importantly: How the hell do I get it back, and fast!!!!????

I have, at most, 109 days of pregnancy left. That’s it. I will never have this opportunity again. True I won’t have to deal with the uncomfortableness, the heat, the heartburn, bloating, cravings, mood swings, etc. But I will also never feel one of my babies moving around inside me. I will never again be able to protect one of them from EVERYTHING. I will never know the joy that I cannot seem to find right now.

I want to! I want to revel in this, soak it in, flail about in the throws of pregnancy. But right now it takes me almost 5 minutes just to get off the couch...

Our first trip to Mulligans since they added the water slides! It was really fun to watch the kids play, but man did I want to join them :)

The next day we broke in the new slip n' slide. Well, Jason and the kids broke it in, I took pictures...

Disney Baby Einstein Caterpillar And Friends Play Gym

Just when I thought I was safe...

I received a letter in the mail last week saying that I was eligible for a PDBR. The military loves its acronyms. What that means is they will review my medical discharge from 9 1/2 years ago and make sure it was fair. And if they find it unfair they increase my rating and possibly medically retire me retroactively. This means more money monthly, backpay, and free healthcare for my husband and all the kids! Sounds good, huh? I thought so! I sat down last night and did all the research and filled out all the paperwork. 

This morning, I decided I only have one shot at this so I’d better give it all I got: I decided to write a personal statement to go with my application. Seemed like a good idea at the time. So when I got home from the gym I sat down and started writing...

It was words on a screen, but the affect was that of a time machine. All of a sudden I was back in Seattle, then SanDiego, then Damneck, then Norfolk and I was feeling everything again: the panic, the anxiety, the depression. Emotions compounded by the hormones of pregnancy...

It sickens me that I’m still this affected. I go through so many days convincing myself that I’m over it, that I’m strong and it’s all in the past. Then something happens and I realize it’s all a giant crock of...well, you know. I have PTSD and that doesn’t go away...EVER!!!

Yes, I have learned to cope. Most days I’m even quite happy. The attacks being spaced out, though, is both a blessing and a curse. It has lulled me into a false sense of security, so much so that the onset of one, again coupled with pregnancy hormones, literally floors me. I’m reduced to a crumpled and crying mess on the floor of the shower. Not a good place to be when Jason has to leave for work in 15 minutes and I have 2 of my 3 kids to take care of and grocery shopping to do and a paper to write for my next class.

So what do I do when I finally recover from this attack? How do I go on with my life and be happy without falling back into the false sense of security? What is the answer to living with PTSD without allowing it to ruin everything?

I have no answers. I have no clue where to go from here. All I can do is count my blessings and praise God for my family, especially my amazing and supportive husband. Oh, and keep unraveling....