In the first trimester of pregnancy, most women's hormones are totally whacko and in turn, they begin to feel that way. I know that I did. I would cry at the drop of a hat be it a commercial for dog food or Matt looking at me the wrong way. Pregnancy has the uncanny ability to make you feel very unlike yourself--both physically and emotionally...and this is no picnic for you or anyone within 10 feet of you. I felt that after the first trimester I got myself back a little bit. Even though I was still getting bigger and growing the baby, I even felt more physically like myself. My balance was back, my energy had returned and I felt like I could do most things I had done pre-preggo state. And theeeeen the third trimester rolls around. The old feelings of craziness start to creep up. For me, they stayed away for a while...but now that I am in the home stretch of this seemingly never ending journey I'm starting to feel like the last month of pregnancy might best be spent in a mental institution. I'm not comfortable so I'm slightly whiny, my emotions are on high so I'm crying again for no reason...and I am certain that an all padded room would be best for everyone involved here.
For example:
Matt is gone for three night in Philly for a conference. I have known about this for months. We agreed that he should go and that I would be fine. In preparing for his absence, I planned many fun girl outings with my friends and even smiled and waved goodbye to him as he rolled out of the driveway Sunday morning. I was okay much of Sunday day until the nighttime and I started to get a little cray cray (this is 'crazy' for all you non-Kardashian watching people). If I cannot get a hold of him the instant that I want to my mind is flooded with horrible visions of what has happened to him. I have slept for probably 4 hours tops the last two nights because 1.) I'm alone and 2.) I'm trying to dispel any thoughts of Matt being dismembered by gang members or choking on a Combo alone in his hotel room. In fact, I just got off the phone with him and my t-shirt is soaked because I was crying so hard. I mean really...this is getting out of control. While he was lost for words about my state of insanity I tried to make him feel better by reminding him that while I AM indeed going completely mad--at least I recognize it and acknowledge that it is definitely me who is stirring up all of these ridiculous scenarios. I know that I'm the lunatic here...no doubt about it. Poor Matt just has to listen on the other line until I calm down and a sliver of his real wife returns and is able to have a normal conversation with him. I've always prided myself on being pretty independent...a trait that apparently went totally out the window once Matt was 100 feet down the road.
My new goal for the day (instead of staying occupied) is to try to remain calm and not have another crying episode in which I blubber on the phone for 10 minutes straight. I'm not sure if I can do it--because I've tried this just this morning (epic fail)--but I have high hopes this time around. Lord help my poor hubby if I can't.
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