Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, or, The Joys of Pregnancy Hormones

Today being the unofficial beginning of Memorial Day weekend, this morning my husband and I were both looking for links and music to post on Facebook in honor of our military heroes. You know, emotional music and pregnancy hormones are a very volatile mix. My husband found a beautiful rendition of “Here’s to the Heroes” sung by a boy soprano and while I was listening to it, he posted one of the most poignant (and one of my favorite) sections of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, and between the two, I of course dissolved into a puddle of tears.

Now, it seems to me that I should get a pass on this one, because the poignancy of those words combined with that glorious music is enough to make the hardest heart a bit softer and to bring tears to the ears of the most unemotional among us. But I will readily admit that these days I am moved to tears by much less than this. In fact, I can be moved to tears by an insurance commercial, or a toilet paper commercial, or even the occasional car commercial. Of course, I can also be moved to tears by the cap of a new gallon of milk that won’t tear off, or by an unsuccessful attempt to tie my own shoelaces, or by a blob of gunky toothpaste in the sink.

Occasionally, the tears have no known cause at all, like a few days ago when we were in the car and my husband suddenly noticed that I had tears pouring down my cheeks and asked what was wrong. “Nothing,” was the sobbed reply. “Are you sad?” “Yes.” “About what?” “Nothing!!!” followed by more sobs. And it was perfectly true. I just suddenly felt absolutely miserable – about nothing at all. All the emotion was there but none of the backing reason.

Fortunately, the tears are often followed by laughter as I know how ridiculous these outbursts are. Logically, even when my hormones tell me I’m miserable, I know that I have no reason to be sad. Knowing that you’re not miserable and yet feeling miserable is a very disconcerting sensation. It’s a strange feeling that I suspect cannot be fathomed by anyone who hasn’t been through it. And it brings a kind of giddiness in its wake that is equally unfathomable.

I am grateful that I have a husband who is able to roll with the punches and not take my emotional outbursts overly seriously – and yet, he takes ME seriously. He never minimizes my feelings or dismisses them; he accepts that they are real, even when they are baseless. I appreciate that he doesn’t need to completely understand how I feel in order to allow and even support me feeling that way. He just hops right along for the ride. And that’s why I love him.