I’ve been really lucky that emotionally, I’ve been fairly stable throughout my pregnancy with Ms. Raptor. My tolerance for people’s ninniness (not the word that fits best, but you know what I mean) has shrunk. I really don’t put up with the stupid as much as I did. And I am a little mouthier about some things (not all things) but some things.
But when Mr. Lulu and I announced the pregnancy everyone said “wait until you start crying. at EVERYTHING.” Really? Someone said puppy food commercials, cell phone commercials, coffee commercials (the only thing that would make me cry about a coffee commercial would be the lack of coffee in my hand.) But I managed to get through 27 weeks of not really crying.
That isn’t an entirely true statement, I HAVE cried in the last 27 weeks, but usually it warranted crying over and it wasn’t consistent. Until 27 weeks. And then THE SOBS CAME.
And not just the sniffly, hand me a tissue, but the full on hyperventilating, shoulder shaking, sobbing. The kind that you are embarassed to admit you do. But you know what? I’m not embarassed about it. I cried over my grilled cheese. SOBBED. I sobbed because Mr. Lulu took over loading the dishwasher for me. I just sob.
And it’s ridiculous. And I had to ask a couple people if I was ok or if I had gone on a mental break from reality and if I’d ever come back. You never know. I mean, there are times when I’m fairly convinced that yes, I have lost touch with the real world and am just floating out there in Lululand (it’s lovely, you should visit, I’ll try not to sob).
But I’m really thankful that I didn’t get the sobs until so late. I’m really thankful that I haven’t had a sobbing fit in three days. Maybe work keeps me distracted, although, that can’t be entirely true because work in fact, makes me sob.
There is a lot of silliness associated with pregnancy and I really chalk the sobs up to silliness. I know some women wouldn’t agree with me, necessarily, but you know, it’s pretty silly when you are upset that your grilled cheese is on your plate. Sitting there. Harmless.
Hormones are mean and evil things. They shouldn’t make you feel so bad. Yes, the super cuddliness that comes with the hormones is nice, but the hysterics are not. And poor Mr. Lulu just kinda looked at me blankly when I got up to cry. I know that I get to ride this wave for a little longer (and the after-pregnancy hormones- I CANT WAIT!) but really, I’m going to try and embrace The Sobs. If they are here, I might as well welcome them. And if they feel welcome, then maybe they won’t be so bad next time.