If you ever doubted the reality that is pregnant brain, please let me be your shining example of this very real phenomenon. I am not for one second denying the fact that I just happen to be really freakin’ absent minded a lot of the time. Have I mentioned that one of the top five reasons I married my husband is because of his innate ability to find my keys, a valuable skill that I somehow never developed? Can I just tell you that after living with my college roommate for a mere two months she stopped saying “Goodbye” to me as I left our dorm room because nine times out of ten I would have to come back in within five seconds of leaving since I had somehow forgotten to take my purse, or my jacket or my pants?
But the former are examples of, what I consider, normal, run-of-the-mill absentmindedness that was more than likely passed down to me genetically from the paternal side of my family (sorry dad, but TRUTH.) Pregnancy brain, on the other hand, is a far more frightening and serious form of absentmindedness, commonly characterized by a sheer, overwhelming panic that takes over once said pregnant lady finds herself in a position of not being able to find what she is looking for/remember what she came into the room to do/finish a sentence without forgetting what she was talking about. Or any combination of the three.
Let me give you a couple of examples. A conversation I had at work with a co-worker today went something like this:
*Note: literary license used sparingly.
Me: Hey, ya know how this place would literally fall apart at the seams if I didn’t work here?
Co-Worker: Totally.
Me: Well I gotta go and, once again, save the department by using my awesome and indispensible skills to, ya know, keep us in business.
Co-Worker: Cool. Oh um…yeah, I was thinking…ya know that whole baby thing that you’re gonna be doing here in a couple months?
Me: Yes…
C0-Worker: Well, I know that it would be impossible for you to convey even a fraction of your vast knowledge and unparalleled skills to me, not only because the depth and breadth of your abilities rival those of the greatest minds of our time, but also because I’m a little dull. But, ya know, since you’re gonna be out for like three months and all, it may not be a bad idea for me to at least try to understand some of what you do so that I can attempt to hold this place together and avoid calling you during your maternity leave every five minutes.
Me: Yeah…I can see your point. I don’t think I’d like taking work calls while breast feeding. K let’s go. Oh…hey wait a minute (looks around confused)
Co-Worker: What’s wrong?
Me: I’m looking for my phone. (Starting to panic) Oh crap, hey I can’t find my phone (hysteria creeping up) I just had it where is it?! (Stands up looks under desk/under chair/turns around in maniacal circles like a dog trying to find a comfortable place to lay) HEY, HEY, HEYHEYHEYHEYHEY HAVE YOU SEE MY PHONE I JUST HAD IT WHERE THE HELL DID I PUT IT?
Co-Worker: Um…you mean the phone in your hand?
Me: Ohhhhh…..yeah. MmmmmmK. Well, now that we’ve taken care of that, let’s go so I can bounce some of my awesome off of you and see what sticks.
Nice huh?
Later this evening I came home and amazed my husband with the powers of pregnant brain. For those of you that don’t know, I live in the desert, the land of sand and sun, but very infrequent rain. So, of course, when there is even a 10% chance of rain we all know about it and get so excited for the potential precipitation that we almost pee our collective pants. That’s why tonight when I screamed to the hubs from the kitchen “Dan! Dan! It’s RAINING!” he immediately came out of the man cave to investigate while looking at me like I had just told him I was making out with the Easter bunny. While he could clearly see and hear the water spattering against the kitchen window as I peered out to wonder at the delight that is unexpected rain, he did not, as I had expected, begin to marvel at the blessed drops as I had expected. On the contrary, he continued to look at me as if the Easter bunny was not only making out with me, but also attempting to make it to second base. “What?!” I half-screeched at him indignantly (okay it was a full screech). “Babe…It’s not raining. I’m just watering the flowerbed under the kitchen window, ya know, like I do every other night.”
So yea…I would seriously be considering counseling or a lobotomy at this point. Except that I know it’s just pregnant brain…so whew.