So, unless my body magically decided to forgo all precedent and physiological indicators and ovulate a couple days earlier than the earliest I have ever recorded without telling me, I'm not pregnant. (Note--this means I am not pregnant, but my condition--hypopregnia--compels me to include a disclaimer acknowledging that my mental gymnast is sufficiently acrobatic to come up with plausible justification for believing myself so.) But yesterday I really, really, really wanted to say I was.
There was a brief discussion among the adults in my house yesterday about where an item should be put in the kitchen. I (ridiculously) got my feelings hurt. And I wanted to just let it go, but I couldn't. Later on, Kevin and I escaped to run errands and grocery shop for a date. As we pulled into the parking lot of Lowes, I didn't want to get out because I was still dealing with the emotional upheaval of earlier. So I started talking through it with him. It was a stupid little thing, but I couldn't let the conversation go and I was mad at myself for being so stupid about it. And the more I got mad at myself the stupider I felt and the madder I got, and I ended up sobbing hysterically while pointedly looking away from Kevin because I didn't want to see him or let him touch me. And I wanted SOOO BAAAADLY to just be pregnant so I could say, "It's just hormones. I don't really feel this way." And then I could be over it. But because I didn't have an excuse for feeling so bizarrely awful I had to pick it apart to find the root, and I wasn't finding one, so I just kept feeling awful.
I told Kevin I just wanted to punch something. I feel that way sometimes, especially when I hear about cruel stupidity, but I usually just get over the feeling. But I really wanted to actually punch something this time. Kevin offered me his shoulder. At first I refused, and I felt better that he was being so kind. We laughed together about being pregnant/not being pregnant. Then I got out of the car, walked around to his door, opened it, and said, "Get out so I can punch you." Then I couldn't wait for him to get out, and I punched him in the shoulder while he was getting unbuckled. Then he got out of the car and I punched him a lot of times. I didn't want to actually hurt him, but it felt so good to let my arms spasm out the emotions that just wouldn't go away. I did a lot of awkward girly-punches that took energy to throw but didn't land with too much force. And he was a very good sport and just let me hit him. And we both laughed. Why have I not punched my husband sooner? I was able to let go of the emotions, recognizing that whatever the cause of the unfounded feelings, they were unfounded and I didn't have to figure out where they came from--I can have all the hormones I want even without being pregnant. And the rest of the evening on our errand-date I felt light and almost giddy. That feeling after such an inexplicable downer was almost as disturbing. I wanted to dance and giggle and kiss the world. Mostly I kissed Kevin. And rode the cart like a scooter.
Do you have days like that, where your emotions are all wonky without your consent and no known hormonal issues or deep stressors to explain it?