Tuesday, April 26, 2011

The crying game

Here are a few of the ridiculous things that have made me cry while pregnant, not just a few tears but a full on sob-fest of snot and tears...

Garlic Pizza...

Scott has been a dear through this whole hormone circus called pregnancy. One morning he was cleaning out the fridge while I was getting ready. I asked him to make me a sandwich for work. I walked out of the bedroom on a very "gaggy" morning and immediately was doing everything I could to hold my stomach down. I searched for the culprit furiously. Spotted...2 day old garlic pizza on the counter! He took it out of the fridge to throw away but he didn't do it soon enough. The strong smell overwhelmed my senses and sent me to the front door for fresh air. I gagged, cried, and yelled all at the same time, "Why did you take that out of the fridge? It freaking reeks!" While gasping for fresh air I suddenly noticed he had not yet started the car. Through the gagging I managed to yell, "why haven't you started the car?!?!" He probably thought I was possessed by a demon by how quickly my personality changed. He replied with forceful confusion in his voice, "I was making your sandwich!" My anger turned into remorse for using such a disrespectful tone with Scott. It was my first acknowledgement of how unstable I was as a newly pregnant woman. I tried not to cry my fresh makeup off while I explained my behavior like this, "I know that you think I'm crazy but I think I am 100 times crazier than you could ever imagine." The look of confusion never left his face as he walked outside to start the car. I picked my neatly packed lunch up off the kitchen counter and cried all the way to work. Duty calls!

Want to do something?...

This particular Saturday night I had great intentions of doing something fun. I was resting on the couch and Scott was trying to get me pumped up for a night of excitement. He had all sorts of ideas for us and people we could hang out with. As much as my mind was there, my body screamed something different. It screamed, "if you take these sweatpants off of my swollen calves there will be hell to pay!" When my body and mind don't sink up I lose all stability. The tears started to well up, the big lump in my throat arrived and I was doing everything I could to fight what was coming. Madness took over. Our Saturday night was not full of fun but full of salty, makeup removing, snot provoking alligator tears. Scott listened to me cry off and on for two hours. He handed me a large amount of tissues and carefully sat on the other couch afraid that my sadness may turn into abusive anger because I blamed him for knocking me up. The next morning I acted like nothing happened and had a fresh smile on my face. Meanwhile, he was still walking on egg shells scared to look me in the eye. I hope the emotional drama and abuse he has endured throughout this pregnancy is like what women say about giving birth, "after it's all over you forget about the pain and would do it again."

That's my pregnancy food...

I haven't used the term "baby wants..." yet but this occasion was pretty close. We went on a two hour hike and I felt fantastic. My mind and body were alive and working together. I was so pumped up and our next stop was some much deserved food. Suddenly I couldn't wait. I grabbed a palm full of dried edamame to hold me over and Scott put his hand out for me to share with him. ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!! I snapped, "this is my pregnancy food!" He snapped back, "just give me a few!" Quickly I said in a mean baby voice "No, this is my my mine, I'm soooo hun...so hungr...so hun" I couldn't finish my sentence. My age went from 27 years old to 2 years old. We've all seen a toddler snatch a toy from another toddler. I became the toyless toddler that stuck out my quivering lower lip and let out a wail of a cry while pointing to the guilty kid next to me. In that moment I couldn't believe how he could do a selfish thing such as ask for me to share our food. I wanted to sit in the car and cry until he was really sorry for the pain he caused me. My tears prompted Scott to tuck away any selfish desire to tell me what a lunatic I was. Gently, he coaxed me out of the the car and into the restaurant for some nourishment. The drama was laughable within five minutes.



I hope these stories have given you something to laugh about. I know I laugh about them after all is said and done. Scott will laugh about them someday after he goes to counseling for post traumatic stress disorder.

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