And I've Been Doing So Well...

For my entire pregnancy I've prided myself in the fact that I've been able to keep my hormones, for the most part, in check.  I've had my moments while watching "The Biggest Loser" and almost had a meltdown in a restaurant when Mitch forgot to buy my pizza, but otherwise I've stayed pretty even-keel.  

Until today.

Mitch and I (okay, Mitch) has been working on the yard and trying to trim back so many of our very overgrown trees and bushes.  This morning Mitch decided, with my encouragement/demand, that one of the big ugly bushes in the back was coming out.  This bush was an evergreen sort of bush, about ten feet tall, with tons of dead branches.  He set to work in taking it out, and I sat on the patio to offer encouragement and hold iced tea.  Even Thor participated in the bush-chopping, as he had his little hammer working overtime in my belly.  After a bit, the bush was ready to be pushed over, and triumphantly, Mitch took the bush to the ground.  

And then shit hit the fan.

As he began to finish severing the wood at the base of the bush, some loud bird cries were heard.  Mitch stands up, says, "Is there a nest in this tree?" and all of a sudden, two robins were divebombing.  I stood up, the robin saw me first, and started to come after me.  I ran in the house, and Mitch backed away from the bush.  We got in the house, looked out the window and saw the nest.  Sure enough, at least one robin's nest is in this bush.  We laughed a bit, then tried to get a good picture of it all for the blog.  We ran downstairs to look out the lower level windows, which is right at ground level, when we saw it.

A little baby robin, walking along the rocks, trying to fly and find a little security from the windy day.  The poor thing isn't strong enough to fly yet, and so he was just getting tossed around by the wind, trying to get close to the house.  Mama robin was flying around, trying to figure out what to do, realizing that her nest is ruined and that her babies (we're pretty sure there's at least one more out there) are most likely not going to survive.

And the waterworks came.  And came.  And are still coming now, as I recall the tragic events from fifteen minutes ago.  I can't get it to stop.  

I'm confident that I would not have reacted this way had I not watched this poor little baby bird.  But the thought of this young little creature not surviving because I wanted this ugly bush gone is just killing me.  Mitch is not quite sure what to do, as he has reassured me that no one is going to come and chop our house down, and that we'll be able to take care of our baby, but anytime he says anything, it just makes it worse.  I just cry harder.  Because of this, I will not be posting the picture of the baby robin.  Mitch has to delete them from the camera immediately.  

I have not cried like this at all during my pregnancy.  I feel like a total baby wimp, because I really just don't cry a lot.  But I now understand the the control that the hormones have over me.  I'm hoping it stops soon.  And I'm hoping that this doesn't happen again, because honestly, I don't think I can handle it.