24 weeks, 1 day.
My father-in-law apparently warned my husband, upon learning of my condition, that women go crazy when pregnant.
And much as I hate to admit that he’s right, he’s right.
Take, for example, yesterday’s verbal diarrhea – I’m verbose, but I haven’t written that much crap in that short a period of time since my PhD prelim. (An exaggeration – I was actually rather proud of that prelim, but anyway…)
And anything my husband might say that might even be remotely critical? Total meltdown.
Too many documentaries and videos proclaiming the end of the world? Don’t wanna hear it. Turn that off now.
Cute babies in restaurants/walking down the street? Totally awesome!
News articles about anything bad happening to a baby? Aaaaargh no!
Dick Cheney? (*collapse* *twitch violently on floor*)
Chocolate cake? <Note: This reaction has been removed because it is not suitable for viewing by readers under the age of 21. Or over 21, for that matter.>
Up until now, I’ve been able to feel the emotional roller coaster coming. Now it hits me without warning, or worse, I feel it coming, but it just doesn’t go away, and I succumb. It’s like PMS on steroids. So if I sound like I’m talking crap here, just remember that I did warn you at about 13 weeks that I might just go completely mental…
I know it’s normal and all, but seriously? If all those hormones weren’t keeping my baby alive in there and letting him grow some more, I would totally, totally bitch them out.
Professional computer geek and linguist living in Germany, doing infosec stuff and being the freakiest mother ever.
