33 weeks

"We are infinitely more than our 

limitations or our afflictions." 

                                                                                               Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

33 weeks today and I'm starting to panic. I'm sort of in denial about having another baby. I can't have two under two. I can't have two period. Nope, not happening. Not in seven weeks, not in seven years.

There's nothing in particular I'm worried about either other than feeling like I just.can't.do.it. Sleep will be rough the first couple months, but that's no different than when Miss M was born and she's freaking amazing. Nothing inconsistent or confusing there.

I've decided to put all this baby #2 business on the back burner. I'll deal with the family of four madness when it actually happens.

At least we have a much better idea of what we're doing. Right?

Aside from my emotions, everything pregnancy related is going well, thank goodness. Baby J is still breech, but he looks perfectly healthy and is already a good size. My OB said if he came at any time from this point on she wouldn't be worried about it at all. The longer he stays in the better, obviously, but it would be okay if he made an early debut (you better not though, Sir)!

I had an experience at my 30 week appointment has left me feeling very self-conscious and vulnerable.
My appointment had ended and I was at the front desk scheduling the rest of my appointments (say what?!) when my OB came out and asked if she could talk to me again in the room we just left. When she closed the door behind us she had a very concerned look on her face. She told me the nurse informed her I had been self-harming and she needed to follow up on that information.
I realized I had worn a dress with short sleeves to my appointment since the weather was nice that day and I had never done that before. I immediately became uncomfortable and started to feel ashamed.
I thanked my OB for her concern and reassured her that the scars the nurse saw were from 10+ years ago. I willingly showed her my arms to let her have a look. She was surprised she hadn't noticed them before and I could tell she was slightly embarrassed for bringing it up because they're clearly old.
She briefly talked about mental health during and post pregnancy, especially depression, which sucked for me, but I knew why she was doing it.
She ended our meeting by saying, "Look, I can tell you're a great mom and that you have your stuff together. You're always asking the right questions, you keep me informed, and you're on top of things. I really like you. I'm here to support you if you ever need it and I know you'll let me know if you do. I'm sorry I had to bring this up today, but I needed to in order to feel like I was doing my job." 
Her closing words did help me feel a little better because she sounded sincere, but I still felt bad and now I feel like my image is tainted in their eyes and that makes me feel sick.

It was so long ago and it happened during a dark time of great need. I didn't know I would have to live with it forever. I didn't know I would be judged by others based on that alone. Honestly at that time I'm sure I didn't know those things because I didn't care. I didn't think I would live to be this old and I was too busy trying to make it through another day. That sounds terribly dramatic, but that's where I was 10+ years ago. Hurting. Angry. Depressed. Scared. I found something that was destructive, but it helped me make it through those arduous years.

I compare my self-harm to drug and alcohol addiction a lot. Unfortunately, hiding my past of unhealthy habits is harder to do because the scars are physical and everyone and their dog can see them.

That's not true. People who know me don't notice them anymore, at least not all the time. The problem is most people don't know me and that makes meeting new people and making new friends difficult.

I try to keep my scars hidden, but I forget. The weather gets nice, I'm around people who know me almost 100% of the time, I get comfortable, and nobody cares. Nobody asks, or stares, or questions. Nobody talks to me about mental health. Nobody is scared of me. Then somebody new comes into my little circle and I'm reminded that my skin looks different because I see it on their faces. They're surprised, shocked, confused, scared... I don't know what it is, but I can see it.
I always wonder if they will ever really try to get to know me now or if they think they have me figured out and don't want to anymore. Do they think I do drugs (I get this a lot surprisingly)? Do they think I'm a bad mom? A bad person? Do they feel bad for my husband or worry about the safety of my daughter? Are they worried about me being around their kids? Do they want me to hide? I hate it. I.HATE.IT.

Please, I want to say to them. Please don't judge me for these. They're not who I am. Not now, not then. Please look at me. See me.

I saw a specialist once about getting my scars removed, but apparently I have too many (plus ain't nobody got the money for that). Many tears were shed that day.

There's an LDS blogger that I follow, Al (Fox) Carraway, and even though her tattoos are viewed quite differently than my scars, her story has helped me. A friend of mine recently had jaw surgery that she has been waiting to have for YEARS. She has gone through so much and following her journey has also hit home and been inspiring.

There is always hope.

I hope the day will come where nobody sees my scars and I won't feel the need to hide. People will look at me in a short-sleeved shirt at church, at the grocery store, school, walking down the street, wherever, and think nothing of it. I hope I will get to feel the peace that comes with being physically whole even if that never happens in this lifetime.

I made sure to wear my usual long-sleeved sweater to my 32 week appointment last week and I don't think I'll be ready to wear short sleeves to my next appointment either. Or ever. Like I said before, I'm feeling very vulnerable. As much as I love my OB, now I can't wait to run far, far away from that office once baby J arrives and all my postpartum care is out of the way.

This post certainly ran away from me, but it felt good to get that off my chest. Now let's get back to the pregnancy I'm in denial about, shall we?

How far along: 33 weeks. 49 days left. Yikes!

Sleep: Crazy dreams and I need to change our sheets to our summer sheets because it's getting too warm at night. Sleep is still great though. I'm a fan.

Movement: Baby J still moves the most at night and in the morning, but he's been surprisingly active during the day the past week or so. He likes to kick my hips and sides while shoving his head as high up as he can. He really needs to flip.

Cravings: Everything? Mostly Indian food from Bombay House in Provo, UT, but everything is accurate. I like food.

Symptoms: The belly keeps on growing and I'm full of hormones. I also feel full almost always even when I'm really hungry. Baby J seems to be taking up ALL of the space in there. I'm scared he's going to be huge. He feels huge.

Belly button: Innie.

Worst moment of the week: It's supposed to snow this weekend.

Best moment of the week: Wednesday morning. It was magical. Oh, and the road trip we took over Mr. P's long weekend! We miss our friends, the food, and the state already.

What I'm looking forward to: My baby shower. I have family coming into town for it and it should be good. It makes me want to cry because I seriously can't believe we're having a son. (Like I said, full of hormones).

Size of baby: Good grief, Baby J is 17-19 inches long at this point and weighs more than ~4 1/2lbs! He's sort of the size of a pineapple.

^And look how cute he is!

Milestones: Baby J is busy bulking. He's packing on the pounds and getting less wrinkly. He can recognize the difference between day and night. His skeleton is hardening and he has his own immune system now!

The bump:

 33 weeks side

33 weeks front

I'm including this photo to show the lingering burns

I have on my stomach after splashing boiling water 

all over myself a couple nights ago. Fortunately 

nothing blistered. It's still tender and slightly 

raised, but healing nicely. It could have 

been a lot worse.

That's all. The end. With love. Ciao.