The Pregnancy Diaries: The Queen of Bad Times

Pregnancy can be hard; not can be, it is hard. The first four months were particularly hard for me. If you think I spent mornings with my head steeped in the toilet bowl, then you can spare the "I know how it feels" speech. Actually, I belonged to the group who saw no morning or evening sickness.
But that doesn't mean I didn't have any aversions. One particular brand of instant noodles made me go green and extremely nauseous. So while the whole family would enjoy a Sunday evening snack of instant noodles I'd stand in the balcony, which didn't overlook the pool but a huge dumping ground for garbage, waiting for everyone to finish and destroy all traces of the nauseating factor before they called me back in. Actually the foul smell emanating from the garbage was much more appealing than the instant noodles at that time.
Another nauseating factor was a particular brand of my sister's perfume. One day she was strutting around the house wearing this perfume and I was watching a food show whilst suddenly feeling extremely nauseous. It was either the food show or the perfume. The poor girl got told off for wearing the perfume, which I actually loved before and was sent to her room; what?! only until I was done watching the food show. Another time she was getting dressed for a party and there was that nauseous feeling again. She had worn "the" perfume. The poor girl stayed put in her room the whole time until her friend came to pick her up. That perfume was probably FedEx'ed to a tribal woman in Timbuktu. She didn't want to tick me off again and be resigned to the fate of being jailed in her room a third time.

Nausea is one thing; but being hormonal is a totally different streak. To compensate for not having any morning sickness, my hormones decided to have the cake and it eat it too. Now normally I do tend to get a little cranky and I have to agree that there is definitely a hint of nastiness in my nature. But the pregnancy hormones cranked up these things to a whole new level. The Queen of Bad Times had arrived. Who bore the brunt of these hormones? First the husband of course; I thought he'd divorce me at the end of nine months. I was actually surprised at how nasty I could be. Any question he asked was always returned with a retort, nothing witty, just plain mean.
Him: Are you feeling alright?
Me: None of your business

Him: Are you going to work today?
Me: None of your business

Him: Do you want me to pick you up from work?
Me: Just stop asking me stupid questions ok!

At first he'd ask me why I was behaving like a total lunatic. That would be met by a long winded speech on insensitivity, ignorance and how men had the best deal in all of this. But he learnt fast. I was still the lunatic but he took it in his stride and would not say a word. It's a wonder that he didn't go insane at the end of it all; all that pent up frustration I was causing him was definitely not easy to subdue.

My immediate family were not spared 'the horror that was me', either. One night my brothers, sister and a couple of their friends were home. At about one in the morning I was woken by this raucous laughter. And with that the hormones too were ignited into top gear; I tried to sleep but couldn't and the laughter in the room didn't seem to stop. So I went out and politely asked them to keep it down. Once I went back and tried to settle in, there was more of that laughter. They received a second warning. Though I heard hushed tones for about 5 minutes after the warning, the decibel level gradually kept going up, with more laughter. Feeling totally awake now I went out into the hall and started watching a movie. By now, actually, the anger had died down and I was enjoying the movie; oblivious that a bunch of youngsters were huddled in the bedroom too frightened to come out to the kitchen for even a glass of water. A year later, my sister tells me that when I had come out into the hall that night they were all scared. I was the nasty preggy witch who was ready to have them for a midnight snack. For lack of space one of them had to actually crash in the hall; but they decided to adjust themselves in the bedroom, packed like a tin of sardines, rather than endure my wrath and be eaten alive. This was the sort of monster I had turned into.

Luckily for me and all around me, the hormones settled themselves in about four months time. I was turning back into my sweeter, calmer self; oh ok, that's a lie. But I was definitely less nasty and hubby had now stopped wearing his protective armour. Also, the little cross and holy water under my pillow were now gone. And they told me it was to ward off nightmares and help me sleep better.