Learning how to love and cry
Friday, June 4, 2010 at 8:47PM The post-partum hormone roller coaster dip is over, yet I find myself so easily in tears. It's as though with all the shifting and moving my internal organs did during the last few months of pregnancy, they made way for my brain and my heart to tap into this deep river of emotion that was previously blocked and unknown.
My parents have always been sappy, especially my dad. I could never keep track of how many emails we've received that end with the line, "Okay, fuzzy screen, I have to go now!" ("Fuzzy screen" being code for "I'm crying and can't see the screen to type anymore.") I'd always think, "Okay, Dad, so one of us did something great, what's with the overly emotional response?"
But I get it now. It's not overly emotional. It's just what parenthood is.
As of this Monday, I will have been a parent for one month. Just four short weeks. And, yet, this little piece of information is enough to bring tears. When I realized that Nate would be four weeks old this Monday (although he'll technically be one month on Thursday), I said to him, "You're going to be a month old this Monday - and it's been the best month of Mommy's life." Except it came out more like this: "You're going to be a month old this Monday - and it's be.... waaaah..." I couldn't even get the sentence out.
I've always been a bit uncomfortable with expressing emotion. It makes you vulnerable. You expose yourself when you expose what touches your heart or worries you or makes you angry. I'm still learning how to express these things in a constructive way.
Because of this discomfort, I haven't been a fan of many overly mushy movies. My least favorite, in particular, is The Notebook. I have more than once called it overly emotional, sappy schlock. People always respond, "But you can't tell me you didn't cry." Actually, yes I can - I watched that movie and did not shed a single tear.
One day, though, I came home and my parents were watching it and both were sobbing. I had told them they'd enjoy the movie, so they expressed their discontent with my recommendation because it was too sad to enjoy.
"Too sad???" I thought. But it's so manipulative. It's so obviously TRYING to make you sad that no one should fall for it. I mean, really.
But I'm going to admit something just to you folks right now: I think if I were to watch that movie this week, I'd end up sobbing hysterically at the end . . . and then I'd feel dirty for how manipulated I'd feel (sorry, I can't give that part up).
Because something's happened. I can't control my heart anymore. I love the hubby and Nate so deeply, so completely with my whole being, that my heart just doesn't fit inside anymore and so it bursts out. I saw someone once say that being a mom means you wear your heart on the outside now. I thought that was a silly idea at the time, but I get it now. Boy, do I get it.
So now I understand why my parents cried so easily at things when I was growing up. Why they fell for The Notebook's manipulation. Why so many of my dad's emails end with a fuzzy screen.
But I still refuse to watch The Notebook again because there's no way I'm letting anyone catch me crying at that schlock.
This post is an entry for the Living Out Loud project. This month’s theme was “All in the family” (and the timing couldn't be more perfect). If you’d like to take part in future projects, click here!





















