My old arch nemesis Baby Brain is back. It's settled into my head, clouded things up, and doesn't appear to be vacating any time soon. I want to start all of the sentences I speak and emails I send with, "Do you know how tired I am?" I look at pictures of myself and see that I look just as tired as I feel. And it's not the kind of tired that goes away with one good night's sleep or a nice long nap, although I would be happy to have one of those once in a while. It's the I-want-to-weep-but-I-don't-have-the-energy-to-bone-tired-that-doesn't-go-away-until-your-babies-aren't-babies-anymore kind of tired.
Day and night, I am constantly listening for the sounds of my baby- the snuffling, the crying, the breathing- it all drowns out the words than anyone else might be saying, which leaves people staring at me expectantly, waiting for an answer, but I have no clue what the question was.
I start sentences and can't remember if I've finished them or not.
I start thoughts and only speak the second half of them out loud.
I cannot make decisions on my own. We have been dealing with thrush, and I actually called my doctor to ask them if it was okay if I
didn't come in to their office right away. Not that they even asked me to in the first place. I just couldn't figure out what to do on my own.
I have to write out to-do lists for every little task ahead of me, for fear that I will forget everything that needs to be done. Really? "Go Christmas shopping" needs to be on a list? Apparently for me, yes.
I had a grassroots policy petitioner hippie man knock on my door a few weeks back. Emma was crying in my arms, Adam was wrapped around my leg, and Leah kept asking, "Who is that?" while he gave my his pitch. He looked at me expectantly (I think it must have been my turn to speak), I blinked twice, and all I could say was, "I'm sorry, but
I can't hear what you're saying. Could you come back later?" and shut the door. I probably shouldn't have opened it in the first place.
I have to get my drivers license renewed this week. I sincerely hope that they don't ask me any questions more difficult than "red means stop and green means go" (something Adam reminds me of at every light), because I'm not sure I'll be able to answer correctly.
Ugh. Baby Brain. I recognize your grip on me, but I promise (I hope!) it won't last forever.
