Crying, Laughing, Crying

All those innocent little hormones that fill the body and mind of the pregnant momma make us seem psychotic (just do a Google search for “crazy” + “pregnant” = endless list). And while this is occurring, the worst thing for us to hear from others is that we are crazy. It’s overwhelming news to us (though surely something we are subconsciously pondering), filling us with an irrational fear that this quite possibly is a permanent state of being…which can cause us to feel even more unstable because we have no sense of control. It’s much more kind for the people in our lives (g-d bless ‘em) to simply acknowledge what we are going through and comfort us when we’re obviously going a touch off edge. If they instead try to reason it out or throw it back at us or question our instability, not only is it futile, it’s just going to make us feel more lost and inevitably disconnected to them. No, we don’t need others to completely understand, it’s not explainable, it’s just enough that they accept and be with it – like we have to. Easier said than done but if they can make the leap straight to simple compassion and love, oft times it’ll assist in keeping the pregnant mamma more grounded from the get-go.

Sometimes we’re just simply releasing the build-up – whether it be via screaming, fighting, laughing, crying. And that’s the thing about it, really those emotions feel like they are all pretty much the same thing. Similar to a kid who falls down and cries and then starts laughing hysterically – we don’t question their sanity, they’re just moving through their feelings, unhindered; uninterested in bottling them up inside (while we have no room left inside to bottle anything up!).

So I try to consider it part therapy, part accepted ridiculousness, that I now find myself in tears over typically unsentimental things; television shows like Dancing with the Stars for example. Or becoming immersed in irrational fights, over things I could care less about; or things I suddenly give much greater meaning to; or ways in which I can’t explain my perspective and needs properly; or even talking in baby talk because I have an overwhelming desire for everything to be nice and calm and good, and yeah, maybe I feel like I need to be coddled a bit like a baby.

If I wasn’t pregnant, if I wasn’t experiencing it for myself, I might consider myself koo-koo too. But I do have a hope that, as the influx of hormones deplete, and my body and mind reverts back to some semblance of my former (though drastically new) self, that I can find a sense of sanity again. Okay, maybe I wasn’t completely sane to begin with but…. When you are pregnant, it’s important to allow yourself to live these feelings, not get down on or judge yourself, while if at all possible keeping people around you who at least can enjoy the humor factor while not making you feel like a total nut-case. (Yes, this is a subversive, loving message to my patiently and devotedly evolving guy xoxo…).