The flood

I’ve never really been a crier. I cry at movies, I cry at truly sad things – eg a break up. Or death. I’ve always had a fierce temper & a sharp tongue – something I’m not always good at keeping in check. But it takes rather a lot to get the waterworks going.

That is, until I got pregnant.

Trimester 1 got things well underway with hormones flying in all directions causing spontaneous outbursts & crying at the slightest thing. From about week 18, things started to calm down as my hormones settled, though I’d still get more irrational more quickly than usual.

But nothing & no one prepared us for Trimester 3. Grab your armbands people, the flood gates have opened & the tide is in. I cry at Downton. I well up when I’m happy. I sob when I’m angry. It’s never ending. This morning, after an especially bad night’s sleep, I cried when Bump’s dad’s alarm went off. (Smashing start to his day! Oops.)

I can see Bump’s dad looking on helplessly wondering where this wailing banshee has hidden his relatively together, strong & on the whole emotionally sound girlfriend. & also wondering where’s a handy get-away-ark when you need one?

And yet, I can’t stop it. Bump’s dad doesn’t understand & if I’m honest, until I fell pregnant I wouldn’t have either. But I genuinely feel I have no control over my emotions. No amount of relaxation exercises or breathing seems to help. I’m completely at their mercy.

As a somewhat Type A personality, you can imagine, this lack of control does not sit well with me.

Apparently my hormones continue to race during the 6 week (give or take) recovery period after the baby is born & then things begin to settle down. Just another reason to get this baby out of me so I can start the journey back to dry land. I’m sure that’s my old self on waving from the shore. Just need to find my paddle…

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