Coffee With Purps

Coffee Conversations with a Purple Girl

Pregnancy Brain

Good morning friends. I know it’s a Friday and I usually don’t do make up posts,but I felt really bad about not posting yesterday when I woke up this morning and realized that it was Friday and not Thursday. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that it was Thursday yesterday and I needed to write a post. I’m pretty sure I had something I was going to write about and everything, but I, of course, don’t remember what it was now. I have no excuse, other than the one that has been so common on my lips recently: pregnancy brain.

I take great comfort in the fact that pregnancy brain is a scientifically studied and proven to be true thing that happen. That doesn’t make it less embarrassing when I give my husband wrong directions in Monroeville or I have to run back to my in-law’s door a couple times thinking I forgot something that’s in my purse, but you know, at least I know it’s not all my fault. When I reach for a word and my brain just decides to stop working all together for a moment, I feel a little better knowing it’s not just me.

Thus far the pregnancy brain has been pretty mild and harmless. Sure, I often find myself struggling to identify common objects while my husband patiently waits for me to finish my sentence, but at least I haven’t left the stove on or put an empty an in the oven or something dangerous like that. I have forgotten to turn the oven off before, but that was before I got pregnant, so that one’s on me.

The most dramatic instance of pregnancy brain I had was early on. I was baking brownies and had put my rings in my apron pocket, because I always wear an apron when I’m baking. Logan got home and I hung up my apron and clear dishes and prep chicken for whatever we were having that night, and didn’t think about my rings until I looked down and they weren’t there. I casually checked my pockets and they weren’t there. I checked the shorts I was wearing earlier, having changed into real people clothes halfway through baking. Not there. Every place I ever put my rings for safety while I’m doing messy things was empty. They were nowhere to be found.  To make the whole thing worse, it was the day before our anniversary, so I was convinced I had not only lost Logan’s great-great-grandmother’s engagement ring, but also ruined our anniversary. It took probably a good 20 minutes of frantic searching and sobbing and getting ready to go pick up my brother for me to remember that I’d been wearing an apron, and that’s where my rings were. Needless to say there was much embarrassment and more sobbing from sheer relief.

I do feel bad that I’m not as reliable as I once was in the memory department. I am particularly concerned about the fact that I gave my husband bad directions in Monroeville the one night. I know Monroeville, I’ve been navigating the area for three years now and I can get basically anywhere from anywhere else. Except, apparently, to Babies-R-Us from Five Guys, in which case I’ll direct my husband in the opposite direction and then have to course correct. I’m hoping this isn’t going to be a reoccurring thing. Logan can get most places fine, but generally I’m the one who know’s where we’re going and how to get there. We may be relying more on Google maps than we were before in the coming months.

So that’s why I didn’t post yesterday. I totally, somehow, managed to forget what day it was and that I had something to do and it didn’t even occur to me what was wrong until this morning. I hope this makes up for it. This may be a regular thing, this posting when I remember that I’m supposed to post. I’ll try to be better, but with Baby taking up all my brain power, who can say how things will go? For now, have a lovely weekend, my friends.

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