By this point, I knew without a doubt that I was pregnant. I tested positive on a home pregnancy test, my bewbs had become all swole and sore, and not least of all, I found that I had started becoming angrier a lot quicker than I used to. I’ve always had a bit of a temper (especially when I was surfing the crimson tide; believe you me, I’m glad to not have to deal with that for a few months), but the speed at which I went from zero to hulk-smash-angry was astonishing, even to myself. Somehow, the part of my brain that keeps me from just going off on people when they make me really mad had gone into hibernation, and I found myself snapping at people at an alarming rate. The worst instances happened at work; although I think I was justified in being pissed in most of the cases, I probably could have gone about expressing my rage in a better way, rather than just immediately exploding on whoever incited my anger. Things that normally pissed me off were magnified by approximately 1 million. Combine hormones that were cavorting through my bloodstream unchecked with my sudden hunger, and I’m sure I haven’t been a pleasant person to be around when I’m angry (and hungry). Much like my temper, I went from zero to if-I-don’t-eat-something-right-now-I-will-claw-someone’s-eyes-out-dammit at such an astonishing speed that I must admit that it took me by complete surprise. Feeling faint and/or nauseous would soon follow that insatiable hunger if my appetite was not immediately satisfied. Baby hungry.
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