everything is normal and nothing is normal

This is my new motto, guys, courtesy of my very wise mother.

As I've mentioned to several people, I have had what must be the least uncomfortable first trimester in the history of the world. All of the things I'd always been worried about, okay, mostly morning sickness, turned out to not be a big part of the experience this time around, and I'm wildly grateful for that, but it's had some strange side-effects for me.

For one, I was so anxious about the potential for morning sickness that I was almost completely blind-sided by the mood swings. I don't think I'm alone when I say that I'd always expected those—the irrational and lingering anger at nothing, and the ever-close-to-the-surface tears (it doesn't help that I've always been an easy crier)—to come with the third trimester. I mean, the stereotype of the raving pregnant lady is always about eight or nine months along, right?

The second thing that caught me completely off-guard is what people are referring to when they say your hormones go crazy. That's such a vague statement, you know? So when I called my mother two weeks ago because I was freaking out because my brain was legit telling me—despite medical confirmation and the physical proof of an ultrasound magneted to the fridge—that I had made this entire thing up, there's nothing going on in there, it was like a revelation to hear her telling me that this is something hormones can do. What?

It's a really common thing to hear people say that the only thing you have control over is yourself, so it is super disorienting and terrifying to realize that sometimes you don't. I know that for those with various disabilities and mental disorders this isn't news. I mean, I majored in psychology, guys, I know that there are circumstances in which we cannot control the thoughts that come into our minds, or how reasonable they sound. Let me just say that knowing that and experiencing that are two wildly different things. I'm not trying to compare my small experience to those who are living with this sort of thing on a consistent and even debilitating basis, but it has definitely opened my eyes a little more to what it must be like to live that way. It is weird, and terrifying, and no one will really know what you're talking about unless they've experienced. Unfortunately, in our society, that contributes to the dismissive attitude so many take towards matters of mental health.

While my mom was talking me down from my irrational panic attack, she said "Emily, there is one thing to remember from here on out: everything is normal and nothing is normal." The hormones that mess with pregnant women's brains are doing an important job. The weirdness is just a side effect of their work. And it's a humbling experience to be reminded even further that the only thing I have control over is the choices I make, and that doesn't always include the things that come into my mind. It's hard to let go of control, of all kinds. But life is really a practice in learning how to do better at letting go of it, and I suspect that this is just a precursor to parenthood and everything else that's going to come into my life after this. So I'm going to keep chanting this new little mantra in the back of my mind, and pray that I have the grace to be patient with myself.

Bless all first children ever for surviving their poor parents, haha.