This morning I had the strongest craving for pizza. And this was after yesterday’s chili cheese burrito that I. Had. To. Have. And the greasy cheeseburger that I was pining for all day Monday. However, I will credit that one to a hangover…
Then there are the hormones… Mood swings that leave me cranky and irritable for days. And then Matt looks at me a certain way and I’m crying. WTF?
It’s a vaguely familiar feeling. Every month I’m more and more anxious that even though I’m pretty good about taking my pills, that maybe… I guess it’s possible… Perhaps I’m…
But every month, I hold my breath for a week and let out a big sigh of relief when I realize that no, I’m not pregnant, just crazy. And I have been for two years. Since my daughter was born.
It must be another one of those things they don’t tell you about having a baby.
That once you allow this little being to set up shop in your uterus for 40 (or 33) weeks, your body will never be the same. And it’s not just the stretch marks or the sagging body they leave behind. They screw with your brain and your emotions and you’re likely to never function the same again.
I’m not saying she’s not worth it. She absolutely is. And I’d do it again. Just not yet. Not for awhile.