Tuesday, October 28

The Pregnancy Melt Downs....

"Before pregnancy" , I thought I was an expert on the pregnancy process, and would be a pro. I thought it would be easy-shmeasy. I thought I wasn't going to be tired, & moody! WRONG! I'm actually not a pro at all! All of my preconceived notions were totally wrong!

When I first got pregnant, woman around me would warn me about the "Ragging hormones" and Dustin would receive advice on how to deal with an unmanageable, pregnant wife. I thought I would be different than these crazed, possessed, nutty woman described to me, and I would be calm, cool, and totally have myself under control at all times. Well, as I learned over the last months of being bombarded with hormones and emotions, that was not so. I never knew this person existed in me, to be so utterly outraged at the smallest things, so completely heart broken and weeping over a commercial about "Saving the Polar-Bears" that I had to be consoled and snapped back to reality that, although it is very sad, it's not sad enough to weep uncontrollably- (Thanks Dustin!) Only someone without a heart wouldn't be affected seeing a Polar Bear sitting on a half melted piece of ice no bigger than itself, looking so helpless while his whole world melts away...that's depressing! That's worthy of a tear or two!

I didn't think I would be that lady at the grocery store carrying around a produce baggie in case I hurled, and I did....3 times that night, or the countless times food has made it's way back up at work, in the car, and walking on the trail by our house as people walked their dogs right by us! I'm so used to it now, I can be mid-sentence, blow chunks, and carry on like nothing happened! (Dustin has commented on how awesome I can puke, and get right back into a passionate discussion.)

The Dr. said that this should pass after my 1st trimester, and it did for a week or two, like a sick little joke, a tease, I thought I was in the clear until the second trimester hit and the sickness resumed! I lost the war over my hormones and decided to give in and take the meds to keep my food down. The "natural" remedies did little to help, so I surrendered to the drugs. The Doctor says not to be surprised if I get sick my whole pregnancy. Thanks Doc! Although they have been a God-send, I still have battles with my food day to day, I've learned these "magic" no barf pills, aren't so magic.

Example: Last night, we were walking on the trail by our house, the weather was great, I was power-walking over hills, and stopping to pet dogs, and really enjoying myself until we got to almost the very end and I decided I needed to sit down right now, right away or all Hell was going to break loose. The bench was a far 10 feet away, so I plopped right down on the ground, burst into tears and began to ramble my complaints off like a 3 year old wailing through tears, saying "I hate walks, I can't go any further...I'm tired, seriously Dustin, carry me home...Im NEVER going on another walk again!!" And before I could utter another complaint, he lovingly said "Stop, stop right now, relax, take a breath!!" (The meds have another effect besides keeping foods down; it automatically makes you extremely drowsy, tired and uncontrollably narcoleptic. Before we headed out for our walk, I took a pill because the night before, I barfed in the bushes like 3 times, while on our walk and I was trying to prevent that.) I know now not to take them before walks, or at work, as I tend to doze off at my desk....done that too....

Then there’s the movie theatre. Ask me for the full story, but basically, we went to see a movie by some of our favorite directors, the Cohen brothers. We both were dying to see it. I had my big huge purse filled with candies and drinks, and right when the movie started to get good, the guy in front of us decides that the climax of the movie was a perfect time to loudly throw his pistachio nut-shells on the ground. And let me just tell you, the sound of those shells hitting the floor was like nails on a chalk board! I was so annoyed by this man for littering pistachio shells that we ended up getting up and leaving the movie before it was even half way over. My idea was that I would kindly go to the snack bar and get a bag for the gentlemen to put his shells in, but my husband said absolutely not. I think he was trying to prevent an embarrassing movie theatre brawl between me and the pistachio litter-er, and he wasn't havin' it (which totally pissed me off), which resulted in the pregnant lady, me, stomping out of the theatre hysterically crying (Like a maniac), ranting for the next half hour About how "This guy is such a jerk, and how dare he, and he doesn't respect other people, and I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, and how dare Dustin hold me back from telling this jerk off!" I realized soon after that I am out of my mind and it's just the pregnancy talking, I HOPE! (This would all be totally embarrassing if I did this on a regular basis and wasn’t pregnant.)

When I get a little crazy, it's nice to have Dustin there to pull me back together and help me not feel like such a monster. We've even argued over whether I'm a monster or not, and as much as I try to convince him that I'm a terrible pregnant monster, he just says, "It's the babies fault, it's all his/her fault, that baby will go in the corner when he/she comes out, for making you suffer so much!" He makes me smile and feel better about the whole thing. (Totally joking about putting our baby in the corner, not tryin' to have Child Services contacting me...)

My point is, even though there are so many awesome things about being pregnant, (Like-waking up to the baby practicing karate kicks in my belly for the first time and having Dustin talk about how cool that was for the rest of the day)...there are things that suck. I love the newness of this time in my life, but I could trade the fits of rage, the very low tolerance for people in theatres ruining my movie going experience, and the ever flowing waterfall of unexpected tears. It will all be worth it when we see our little muffin. I know now that raging hormones exist, and I'm not exempt from experiencing them no matter how hard I try to keep myself together.

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