You can't DO that to a pregnant woman!

I have always been a tender-hearted sensitive girl prone to cry.

But thanks to our growing baby girl, the waterworks just go absolutely bizzurk these days...

Sad stories do me in. But the worst has been when we watch a movie and romantic male lead dies. Twice in the past week I have turned to Grant at the end of the movie absolutely losing it, making him promise not to die before we're old (but I won't give away the movies so I don't spoil it for those who haven't seen them). When I say, "losing it" I mean it, man. We're talking full-out body-shaking sobs that leave the whole side of his shirt soaked with my tears and snot while I just let go.

But he's pretty great about it. He's never, ever once told me I'm acting a little pregnant and might be over-reacting. He just scoops me up in his arms and wraps me up in Love until I've calmed down, saying soothing things, smoothing my hair and stroking my back.

At least I know I'm not alone. I accompanied Grant downtown last week while he interviewed for a job he'll be starting next week and knowing I had at least an hour on my hands I meandered through a bookshop at the El stop we took and couldn't resist splurging on a copy of Belly Laughs by Jenny McCarthy (it's funny and true...but it is by Jenny McCarthy and thus not always exactly G-rated). She wrote all her weirdo pregnancy experiences down and used her celebrity status to make a few bucks in the process and one of the chapters was devoted to her sobfests, especially after movies. When she went to see Moulin Rouge by herself, people asked her if she was okay while the credits were rolling, she waited until the theater completely emptied out because she didn't want anyone to see that she had absolutely no composure over herself and she had to pull over when she tried to drive home because she just couldn't pull herself together.

And the movies we're watching are a lot better than Moulin Rouge (but don't get me wrong, I liked that one, too).

Grant and I have a pattern established with our Netflix and we get a disc of Friends in between every movie we get (only through the first season so far). I think we're going to have to very carefully evaluate the list of movies we get to prevent future meltdowns during the credits.

Actually, I think we might have to abolish movies entirely and space Friends out with some other sitcom.

It might be the only way to keep our tissue consumption at a normal level and prevent the salt water stains on his shirts from me bawling into his shoulder.