Wrath Of The Hormones

Have you ever cried over ham? Deli sliced ham, like for sandwiches. How about over a baked potato or an In n Out chocolate shake? No? Am I all alone here? Before you think I’m crazy let me explain, yes, it was insanity, but it was temporary. I was pregnant.

Pregnancy has always been known to make women do wonky things. Hormones and their influence on otherwise sane and reasonable ladies are infamous.  Even though they affect us all in different ways, most of us have a story (or 5) of inexplicable reactions or feelings that can only be attributed to the little baby that is throwing everything out of whack.

Personally, I’ve always been weird about food. You wanna see me get really annoyed? Keep me from my breakfast. It is honestly like those Snickers commercials with Betty White, my husband jokes I must be hungry when I’m in a bad mood for no reason and he’s usually right. When you take my already hostile tendencies caused by hunger, then add the hormones, it’s the perfect storm for rage.

My first experience with an irrational outburst was during my first few weeks of pregnancy with my daughter. All-day-every-day I craved loaded potato soup. I found a decent one at Von’s market and was probably having it 3-4 times a week. While running errands with my hubs one day, about 3 weeks into my soup obsession, he asked what I wanted for lunch. So of course I suggested the magic soup. He hesitated, so I said he could get a sandwich from the deli section if he was tired of it. He thought for a second and said, oh, how about chinese food. I said ok, and immediately felt the tingly and embarrassing sensation of tears welling up. I turned and started trying to talk myself out of it. “Don’t cry over soup, seriously. Not over soup. Stop it”. Even I knew it was unreasonable, but there was no stopping the wave of emotion that came over me at the thought of eating anything other than my beloved potato soup. It’s almost like watching yourself from a third perspective, and you feel like yelling at the shit show playing out in front of you, Don’t do it! but you can’t, it just happens without any control. Hubs noticed my quiet sobbing after a few seconds and became alarmed. I explained that I was fine, I didn’t know why I was crying, and of course chinese food was fine.

Obviously we had the soup.

My moment of glory however, was what is now only referred to as the “ham incident”. While pregnant with my second, we went grocery shopping. I was really craving a sandwich. Like a lot. I had mostly been avoiding deli due to fear of listeria but that day I decided to go all out and have the best sandwich ever. I picked out a small package of black forest ham and put it in the cart. We pay and get home, and while putting the groceries away I see it. A giant double size value package of honey ham (backstory — I hate honey ham). I lost my shit. How did this get in my cart? Where was the ham I picked out? Why honey!?!?! Hubs fessed up, he wanted to get more bang for our buck and switched out the packet for the money saving double size. Reasonable non-pregnant me would have reacted much differently. Honest mistake right? The guy wants to be financially responsible, he spotted a good deal but accidentally got the wrong type, shrug and move on. Pregnant me hulked out. After a firestorm of tears, cursing, grief, basically a grown woman throwing a toddler tantrum, and after Hubs kept offering to go back to the store to get non-offensive ham, I decided I was no longer in the mood for a sandwich and declined. It was an uncomfortable evening.

For the sake of my marriage, thank 8 pounds 6 ounces newborn baby Jesus that this only occurs while I’m creating human life so my patient hubby somehow controls the urge to flee.

Don’t even get me started on the tongue lashing that I gave a teenage In n Out employee over the shake. That story is an epic tale of it’s own.