The Best of Times to Crap!

This pregnancy has been a roller-coaster of emotions. Up until three days ago, I've never been happier. I tell everyone I meet, strangers on the street, seat-neighbors on the subway, co-workers and managers that I am madly, deeply in love with my husband. That I've never been so in love, our relationship never so strong!! I walk around on a cloud consisting of hormones and excitement. Inevitably making most people around me want to gag, because no one else can possibly be as happy as me. Well folks, this all came to a sudden end.

Three days ago, I went from the pure, unadulterated joy I’ve been living to the depths of despair. And it wasn’t pretty. The stress of moving, the baby, my body turning itself from a hot-thang to a ka-dunk-a-dunk-dunk made me suddenly freak out. And I started to cry, inconsolably. And I went to bed and had a panic attack, wondering why am I doing this to myself, my life!? WHY! I’m happy, things are great, why am I taking such a big leap?

The only antidote was a quick, friendly call from a friend who has been there. And she said, I’ve been there, I get it, it will pass. And it did – right then and there. You may wonder, am I back to cloud nine? Am I making strangers sick with my stories of love? No. But I’m not wandering around Dante’s Inferno either. I think a little extra love from my husband, retail therapy, spa treatment and a day off of work will do the trick! (retail therapy has already been executed and is doing wonders for my spirit.)