I just ate a whole bag of chips. I’ve been crying for three days. I have wanted to maim my husband at least twenty-seven times in the last hour. I’m taking every single thing personally. I keep feeling like nobody understands me. In fact, where are my friends? Do they know I’m alive?! What. Is. Happening? Oh… it’s just you, PMS.
Pregnancy changes A LOT of things about a woman’s body. Your belly and boobs grow bigger, firmer, and farther than you ever thought humanly possible. After delivery, however, both of the aforementioned body parts look…. different. Like sad, saggy, “wobbly bits” to quote Bridget Jones. Aside from the drastic physical changes we go through, there are also the emotional and psychological changes that wreak havoc on our sanity.
I wasn’t prepared for the hormone surges and steep drop-offs associated with delivery, breastfeeding, and weaning. I wasn’t prepared for Aunt Flow to visit me so soon after each baby. I was always told as long as I was breastfeeding, my body would remain flow-free. Well, that didn’t happen for me. I had three babies in 3 years and 10 days exactly.
My body and my hormones have been on a crazy roller coaster, and now that I’m 18 months out from my last little one, I can tell you one thing I’ve realized is that PMS is the actual worst after pregnancy.
And here are 10 reasons why:
1. The hormones.
PMS mimics the early stages of pregnancy, hormonally, after having a baby. I become nauseous, irritable, and weepy the week before my period. And, y’all, my boobs just kill. So there’s that.
2. The feelings.
They’re big, guys. I take everything SO. DANG. PERSONALLY. Why wasn’t I invited to that? When was the last time someone called me? I don’t have any friends, AND NO ONE LOVES ME! I hate my life! Oh, the drama. For real.
3. The patience.
Or rather, the LACK thereof. The fuse is short, the tantrums are many – and I’m not talking about the kids’. PMS after kids brought out the baby in me big time!
4. The job.
Whether you stay home with your kids, work from home, or work outside the home, the job is just not happening. For the love, can’t people just learn to live without me for just one day? I want to hide in my room with my Doritos and binge watch Netflix, thank you very much!
5. The house.
UGH! Can’t these children pick up after themselves for once!? Sure, they are 4, 2, and 1 years old, but come on! They’ve seen me do dishes enough, right? And why does my husband have to leave his clothes on the bathroom floor every dang day? We have hampers, people! Hampers! Where’s my Netflix and box wine?? I’m done.
6. The cravings.
PMS food is the actual worst because it’s terrible for you! There’s nothing redeeming about my dinner of chips and white queso chased with a beer, followed by ten chocolate chip cookies. But if you ask me what’s for dinner, you might get maimed. Just sayin’.
7. The drive.
I think you know what I mean…. Those hormones are raging, and all at once I’m like “Come here right now…” followed quickly by “Touch me and you die.” So much desire, and SO much disdain! I confuse myself. My poor husband. I’m sorry. I love you! But stay away from me.
8. The anxiety.
Remember what I said about the feeling pregnant? Yeah, pretty sure I can’t do that again. Please, just no. Anything but that! Add to that the short fuse, wild emotions, and overwhelming job of motherhood and you’ve got a serious ball of nerves. I’m naturally high-strung, and PMS just makes that abundantly evident to everyone else. I think to myself, “My crazy is showing. Better tuck that back in.”
9. The littles.
God bless theses little leeches who rely on me for everything. The ten-thousand questions, the messes, the fighting, the whining. PMS should stand for “Professional Mess-Maker Syndrome” or “Parental Meltdown Syndrome”. I mean, really. As precious as these little angels are, when I’m PMSing it’s like they become transformers and morph into monsters.
10. The husband.
We’ll end where we started. Bless the man who brings me fried green beans and red wine after a day(s) of fighting the urge to throw something, stab someone, or sit curled up in the fetal position in the shower. And curse him for being ten minutes late getting home after a long day, taking too long in the “bathroom” (when I know he’s really playing Clash of Clans killing time and wasting water!! UGH!), and for not having a single hormone out-of-whack after the birth of the three precious people we call our children. I hate you. But I love you. And bring me something fried.
Did you feel like your hormones were more out-of-sorts after pregnancy?