Upon finding out I was pregnant, I started thinking about the clichés and supposed symptoms of bodily changes I would possibly endure. Admittedly, I was a naysayer of things like cravings and the “eating for […]
Upon finding out I was pregnant, I started thinking about the clichés and supposed symptoms of bodily changes I would possibly endure. Admittedly, I was a naysayer of things like cravings and the “eating for two” mentality. I believed it was all mind over matter and something to not practice from the beginning, making the rest of pregnancy easier. I know, I know, you’re rolling your eyes at this point.
Although I try to stick by the mentioned aspirations, there’s something I wasn’t able to protect myself from: my own brain, or lack thereof. Yes, I am talking about pregnancy brain. The term alone makes me cringe. I was sure this wouldn’t affect me. I was organized. I was able to remember all things. I was a natural multi-tasker. I was … naïve and totally full of crap because these past few weeks have been a series of meltdowns as I forget one thing after the other.
At first it was a small offense here and there, like forgetting to pick something up or forgetting to thaw out whatever was for dinner. These things are easily fixed. However, it quickly escalated to more impactful situations. Take work for instance. I have a marketing job that centers on community outreach and events—lots of events. A team of people rely on me to communicate logistics to better prepare everyone for these events. Not only did I show up to an event the other evening no one was at (because it wasn’t actually a thing in real life), but I failed to show up to another one I had planned and didn’t inform anyone else was happening! I’ve pulled the (wide-eyed) “I’m pregnant” card more times than I would like to admit, and I thank everyone for having grace with me!
Yesterday two things happened. First, let me say I am spoiled by one of my dearest friends who happens to be an amazing hair stylist! She has been my one and only for years, and she blesses me every six weeks or so with very affordable hair services she deserves to be paid full price for. This makes forgetting about a lengthy appointment very bad! I broke a sweat and started panicking around 8 a.m. when I realized I was double-booked with work—work I completely forgot about. I thought I had an open afternoon of Dr. Phil and yummy snacks. Nope. “What is my deal?!” I said to myself as I dialed the salon number, while simultaneously praying/begging someone would call and need a 4 p.m. color and cut.
Shortly after that I hear an explosion in my kitchen. I immediately think, My coffee maker exploded and glass is everywhere! I head for the kitchen when I am confronted with yellow mush all over the floor, the walls and the appliances. It’s egg yolk from the
DOZEN eggs I had boiling for an hour, at least. The water eventually evaporated and eggs became mini-pressure-cookers. Luckily I caught the first blow before additional eggs could splatter all over everything, but the mess for one was enough. I will also note the rotten stench of boiled egg only intensifies when the inside starts to burn. It still stinks. Sorry, Matt!
What can I do except laugh and admit my shortcomings? At the end of this series of things forgotten, we are all still healthy and happy! I guess humility is an important part of pregnancy.
If you are reading this and think I am a crazy, pregnant girl who needs to get it together—that’s fair. But I am hoping someone is reading this with a list of stories to top mine. Where I have lacked in symptoms, I am making up for in brainpower. I owe a huge “I’m sorry” to the company I work for because they have worked to clean up my messes, another to my stylist who has probably removed me from her friends and family list, and to my sweet husband, who has endured the rotten smell of burnt eggs night after night with me. I’m sorry … it’s the pregnancy brain!