Had my first hormone-induced pregnancy freak out last night. Yeah, that was fun. I'm standing in the kitchen tearfully telling Morgan about how I'm certain he's going to leave me and Conor and Baby Girl because he, you know, wants a different car, and somehow in my foggy pregnancy head, this all makes perfect sense.
For his part, Morgan is standing there looking bewildered, befuddled and bemused, which turns rapidly into him looking amused which completely sets me off again and oh-no-don't-you-dare-laugh-at-ME-mister, finger wagging in his face. Ugh.
Of all the pregnancy complaints this freakout-this complete inability to control my emotions, this mental knowing that I'm being ridiculous but at the same time lacking the emotional werewithawl to do anything about it-this I hate the most.
I remember one Saturday evening when I was pregnant with Conor I was lounging on the couch (I don't remember what that is like anymore) watching a movie on TV. It was an old movie (by old I mean released in the early 90's) and I had already seen it numerous times and it wasn't even that good and who likes to watch movies on TV because then you have to deal with them cutting out scenes and adding in commercials and I guess what I'm trying to say is that the movie? wasn't really that big a deal. But Morgan said something like, do you really want to watch this movie? And I lost my shi...well you know, and stormed out of the house and proceeded to drive around in the dark for an hour. In the midst of this madness my friend Jamie called me and I told her about what Morgan had said and my indignity and the silence on her end of the phone (where there should have been righteous indignation on my behalf) woke me up enough from my hormonal madness so that I drove home.
So, pregnancy makes one glowy and beautiful (well, not me specifically) and it also makes one crazy and...well, crazy.