Here’s the thing. I don’t really do tears. Sure, I cry sometimes. Mostly out of anger and frustration and more often than not, directed at the husband. But overall, if you knew me, you would agree that I am rather practical, bordering on unemotional. I like to say that I have the sentimentality of a rock. Well, apparently pregnancy hormones will melt the flintiest of rocks. And cause a flood of tears not seen before in these parts* (except when Ayaan is denied something he wants).
I give you a sampling of the events of the recent months:
Situation 1: Another Kind of a Mile High Club
Jai and I were on a flight to Jaipur and we were going to be meeting Ayaan after a gap of two weeks. Jai decided to tell me that my mother told him that she won’t be bringing Ayaan to the airport to receive us since it would mess with his dinner time. This simple announcement over, he went back to reading his book only to look up a few moments to find big, fat tears rolling down my cheeks. Of course, he assured me that he was just kidding so that I would get a surprise when we landed. Now, you’d think that would be reason enough for me to stop crying right? Wrong. I wept for another five minutes for no reason known to anyone and to the utter discomfort of the guy sitting on the other side of me.
Situation 2: Morning Melodrama
One bright and sunny morning, I went into Ayaan’s room to wake him up for school. Now most days, he beats me to it and wakes up himself and pads across to our room. On the days that he needs to be awoken, he is grumpy to say the least. And it was no different on this particular morning. He peered up at me and said ‘Tu Ja’ (Marathi and Hindi for ‘get lost’) in the his rudest tone. Now this is a common occurrence and depending on his rudeness and my patience levels is dealt with anything between cajoling, scolding and spanking on my part. Not on this day, however. The instant these words left his mouth, I felt my eyes prickle and five minutes later, Jai walked into the room to find me sitting on the floor and bawling in a most heart-broken fashion. And the effect of this on my loving son, you ask? He was magically transported into a brilliant mood and was laughing at my theatrics and egging me on to ‘Cry some more’… though to give the devil his due, I don’t think he has ever seen me cry for real, so he probably thought I was putting up an act for his viewing pleasure…
Situation 3: The Not-So-Professional Business Traveller
Having overslept and rushed to the airport counter 25 minutes before the departure of my flight, I was politely informed by the Jet Airways lady that the flight was closed. This being the first time I have ever missed a flight, I was understandably bummed and then again I started to feel that unmistakeable prickle in my eye. And when she informed me that the next flight was all sold out, the dams burst and before I knew it, I was dripping enormous tears on the check-in counter and the Jet lady was veering between trying to look sympathetic and shifting uncomfortably in her chair.
Amongst other things, I have also been sniffling at sappy movies like Message in a Bottle and getting teary-eyed at an animal rescue programme on Nat Geo. Darn! I miss the old me. This is one thing I will be happy to lose along with the pregnancy bump. Now if only I could keep the cleavage :)
* I met a friend for lunch who reminded me that these events are not as unprecedented as one might suppose. She remembers from my first pregnancy that I drove home from work bawling half the way because the traffic jams upset me. I, of course, have no memory of this event. I guess this what they call pregnancy amnesia, when you subconsciously block out events from your pregnancy and childbirth experience that you don't want to remember and that might sap you of your motivation of going through the whole thing again :)