Cinnamon Bun in the Oven

I've been feeling a little...off lately. It's been going on for a few weeks now and I can't quite seem to figure it out. I feel irritable, hormonal, overly sensitive, squishy (can you feel squishy? Because I do) and my stomach seems to be expanding (that's where the squishy part comes in).

So I did what any logical, completely hormonal girl would do. I took pregnancy tests. Two of them. Just in case I peed too hard on the first one to make it malfunction. I really had to go when I took it.

Seeing as we had to go through fertility treatments in order to have Landon, I would have been incredibly surprised had I actually been pregnant but stranger things have happened (see: Kim Kardashian's decision to record a song). So I'm not pregnant. Turns out I've just been eating way too many desserts. Or I have a chocolate chip baby growing inside me.

I call the left foot!

It's funny how we always refuse to accept the simplest of answers. And by we I totally mean me and me alone. Ache in my elbow? It's broken! Migraine? Brain tumor! Cell phone bill too high? Landon has learned how to read, write and become incredibly nimble with his little sausage fingers in order to send out hundreds of texts this month! Belly a little flabbier than normal? My wasteland of a womb has spontaneously generated life!

Actually, the real aspect of all of this that I have refused to accept (other than having to relinquish one of my four nightly desserts) is the fact that I was a little sad when the tests read negative. Those sad little single lines just looked so lonely. Kind of like my son.

But could it be? Could I really have experienced the "mommy veil" where suddenly the bad stuff slowly disappears from your memory and all you're left with are the tiny little socks (awww, sock...) that they wore when they were newborns? Up until recently I swore that veil didn't exist for me. My travails were veil-less. Or so I thought.

But has it happened? Could I really have forgotten waking up every two hours (or not sleeping at all)? The feeding, burping, changing, then starting all over again? Trying to figure out schedules, praying that the baby will sleep longer than 20 minutes? Schlepping that massive car seat around that cuts off circulation to the crook of your arm? The crazed hormone fluctuations of pregnancy (How could you say something like that? It's not what you said, it's how you said it! You don't even love me anymore! I need chocolate!) (Actually, I don't think this part never went away) (Because I may have said something similar yesterday).

No. I have not forgotten any of this. I just don't seem to be bothered by it as much anymore.

Uh oh. I don't like where this is going.