Baby Brain

So my little guy is going through what I think may be a teething phase. Along with this and feeling extremely exhausted and sleep deprived as well as having to go to a zillion appointments on the day my husband is off, I am also dealing with baby brain.

My day consists of waking up between 6-7 am (depending on the day) and going downstairs to express my milk which takes roughly half an hour. My breasts are usually very big and hard with milk at that point, which is painful, so I cannot prolong it past that time. Then I usually cram a super fast breakfast down which has been difficult as inhaling food is apparently not great for acid reflux. An unrelated thought:  I can’t remember the last time I ate a meal slowly. It’s like a pie eating contest every day – minus the pie. Anyway, then I rush upstairs and hand off the milk to my husband to feed the baby and I take the dog out for his walk for thirty minutes. When I come back, I say goodbye to my husband, take the baby and go about my business.

Apart from feeding, changing, playing, walking and soothing the baby, these are my other daily undertakings:

1. Make bed; 
2. Neaten bedroom;
3. Laundry;
4. Tidy bathroom;
5. Let the dog know I love him via patting and hugs;
6. Make lunch;
7. Return phone calls;
8. Sterilize bottles, pacifiers;
9. Surf the internet for diseases that I could possibly have;
10. Inspect body for diseases I could possibly have;
11. Go back on internet to research any irregularities have found on body;
12. Go into panic mode about said irregularities;
13. Diagnose myself with the worst possible scenario;
14. Worry about who will love the baby as much as I do if something happens to me;
15. Breakdown and cry from all the worrying;
16. Pull self together;
17. Clean up kitchen;
18. Make dinner;
19. Run dishwasher;
20. Bathe baby;
21. Put baby to bed;
22. Pump milk; and
23. Shower etc before bed. 

And so on and so forth. By the time I get to bed it is usually midnight.

Lack of sleep and general exhaustion coupled with all the worrying does a real number on my brain. Sometimes I double-book appointments, misplace or lose things (like my mouth guard twice), completely miss what a person is saying, agree to do something and then forget (and then having a very vague recollection of it when reminded). It’s terrible. And I have to lay emphasis on the fact that I was always extremely respectful of people’s time. I was never late for appointments, interviews, what have you. I never lost my mouth guard. I was an extremely punctual employee and person in general.

Today I missed my appointment with my psychiatrist and it was not due to a lack of respect for her or her time. The baby brain made me do it! We had agreed to meet at 3:15 pm, so naturally I took that to mean 4:15 pm. And so I planned my day around it, thinking it was at the latter time. Imagine my horror on the drive over as I was innocently scanning through my agenda for next week’s appointments when I noticed the actual time it was supposed to be. I called Dr. E absolutely mortified explaining that I had mistaken the time. She rushed me off the phone insisting it was fine, but I got the distinct impression that she was displeased or aggravated, no.... pissed. It was all in her tone. I didn’t have the chance to explain how overwhelmed I had been these past few days with this new phase the baby is going through. As well as feeling so rundown mentally and physically, especially with these mysterious dizzy spells I have been going through, which is due to not eating enough calories while breastfeeding with new acid reflux diet in effect (of course in my mind the spells are actually the result of the serious diseases I have). Nope no chance to do so, she just rushed me right off as if to say “yea, yea,  heard it all before”.  So I felt like shit for screwing up the time. But the icing on the cake was my husband’s reaction as he was driving me to my appointment. Totally irritated by my baby brain although I don’t think he sees is as that, but more me just being a big old moron. I know it’s hard to truly understand a person’s situation unless you’ve been there. I have no idea what he is going through, truly going through. And as much as he tries, he does not know what it is like to be me, especially during my darkest moments. The headaches, the spells, the worry, the uncontrollable sadness, the tears, the hopelessness, the sheer helplessness. All he can see is me messing up yet another appointment. He doesn’t understand why I can’t keep it together. Why I did not listen to him and keep my mouth guard in its case instead of leaving it on my bedside for the housekeeper to throw out (in my defence, I asked her not to dust, only the floors) or in another spot for my dog Ralph to eat. And I know these things aren’t cheap. Why I forgot the baby’s bottles when I packed his bag on Sunday to bring him to my parents and only realized 10 minutes into the drive when we were already late to see a movie. And these are just the mistakes I can remember now. There have probably been a million more before that. I told him that I was never like this before and that it’s hard for me to remember things and that I really do try. He went on to say that it’s not the forgetfulness that he minds, it’s that I am nonchalant and dismissive when it comes to heeding his advice and that to him is the frustrating part. Maybe I am those things. Maybe I already feel like a failure and so my defence is to be nonchalant and dismissive when he advises me to be more organized and to take better care of my things. Maybe it’s because it makes me feel like I’m a child and that sucks since my self-esteem is already taking a hit.  It’s hard to be a stay-at-home mom in that you wonder about your identity. I see everyone else, including my husband, going out there in the world and being creative, managing, multi-tasking, making things happen. And here I am and although I am with the this little person that is literally my heart and soul, I sometimes look at myself in the mirror and see a nest of crazy, dirty hair, an unwashed and greasy face, overgrown eyebrows getting dangerously close to being a unibrow, leg and underarm hair, chipped nails, and 30 lbs of extra weight. And I wonder who that person is, where my old self went. The person that used to spend hours at a bookstore, utterly delighted. The person who felt alive when writing. Or the person who adored cooking, scouring markets for new ingredients and ideas. The person who would swear and guzzle a bottle of wine with her friends after a hard day at work. The carefree old me that would take a trip to Mexico with her best friend and just eat, laugh and dance. The person that would dream of going to India to explore and wonder.  I used to take immaculate care of myself and now I can barely distinguish the hair on my legs from my husband’s (kidding). The point is that I sometimes feel unrecognizable and invisible.  

And so my mind is not as sharp as it once was. And I know I have to step up my game quite a bit to keep myself organized. I wish Dr. E was not so curt in her response to me though. And that perhaps my husband might understand where I am coming from when it comes to my absent-mindedness.  But as I said, it’s hard to know exactly what a person goes through, what their experience is. The best we can do is try to communicate honestly and hope for a little compassion.