Hormones, or “whoremones” (as my knocked-up friend and I like to call them), have certainly taken their toll on my emotional state. I’m normally a sensitive person, and I can easily get choked up or […]
Hormones, or “whoremones” (as my knocked-up friend and I like to call them), have certainly taken their toll on my emotional state. I’m normally a sensitive person, and I can easily get choked up or distraught over things that other people would consider miniscule; for example, a montage of pretty much anything, or a rude person on the street. But lately, even I’ve had to concede that my sensitivity has hit a new low—or would it be high?
Over the last few months, I’ve kept track of the random and ridiculous things that have caused me to spontaneously burst into tears. Some highlights include:
- The episode of New Girl where Zooey Deschanel’s character dresses up as Elvis to honor the request of her roommate’s deceased dad.
- The Verizon commercial that shows a child aging from an infant to a college freshman.
- Forgetting to read a week’s worth of my gossip magazines.
- Not being able to zip up my favorite summer skirt after a baby-bump growth spurt.
- When the flight attendant announced they ran out of ginger ale.
- Realizing 30 minutes after I thought I ordered dinner online that I never finalized it.
The first two occurrences might be justified by their sweetness and the fact that the creators were trying to tug on the heartstrings of their audiences. It worked on me! But the last four came out of sheer frustration. Worst of all, I realized in each moment how stupid it was that I was crying. Which made me cry even more. It’s all such a vicious cycle …
This most commonly happens in front of Arthur, which is fortunate for me. He’s so patient and sweet, and it’s amusing to see his facial expressions as it dawns on him that his pregnant wife is clearly having a pregnancy moment. Although I already realize how loopy the hormones make me, his wide-eyed stare of disbelief gently confirm it’s true.
Compared to the days of TOM (my family’s affectionate name for time of month), when my moments of frustration consisted of being snotty and short-tempered, I do think I prefer the weepy and sensitive side of pregnancy hormones. Sure, it still puts people off, but I recover more quickly. And it means I’m less hurtful to the ones I love, who I rely on even more now for emotional stability.