Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Placenta Brain

Just when I thought the placenta brain was wearing off ... I poured orange juice into my coffee. And not just a splash - I poured orange juice all the way to the top of my cup when it slowly occured to me that the coffee was not turning a creamy colour.  I decided to take note of which container I was holding in my hand. "Aha. That explains it!"  I say aloud, as though I had figured out the last factor in the syrum for the cure to cancer. Quickly followed by, "you're such a nob" and laughing at myself.  Progress.  Early on this move would have frustrated the hell out of me. Now, I guess, it's going to be par for the course.   

My friend Renee (who is also expecting) introduced me to the term "Placenta Brain".  She mentioned it early on in her pregnancy as a reference for how forgetful and foggy she had become. I laughed thinking she was cute and that placenta brain was a Renee-ism.  Then I got it. 

Placenta Brain had me in a daze wading through a thick fog. I lost my words. I lost my memory. I lost my meticulous self somewhere into the abys of placenta brain.   How could a baby the size of a Gummi Bear wreak so much havoc on my brain?  

I would do things like; enter the kitchen open a cupboard then leave the room only to reenter some time later to see the cupboard door open.  Hmmmmm. I am home alone.  We have ruled out our house built in 1910 is haunted - so - I must have done this. I have no recollection.  Who am I? 

The list of things goes on - too many to mention for this one:

Craving a piece of chocolate cake I drove to the bakery across town to buy a slice.  I made sure to take a fork because I was not going to be able to make it all the way home without first tasting the cake to appease the craving.  It was delicious.  As I backed out of the parking lot of the bakery I notice a lady waving and running after me.  I stopped. She caught up to me, reached to the top of the car, "You forgot this" she said , handing me the cardboard box containing the coveted cake.  Oh no, when did I place the cake on the roof?  Do I tell her I am pregnant? Is this universal? Will she "get it?" I decide to say nothing but thank you and smile before driving away.

Other mothers sympathize when I tell them of my placenta brain.  They tell me it gets worse. Oh great I think attempting to smile but feeling like a slowly deflating balloon.   

One sketch we created for my TV Series GWBG was of a mother placing the infant car seat on the roof of the car then driving away.  We taped bystander's reactions.  How far away from this is my reality?  Am I going to hell for making such terrible jokes?  Is this what is meant by "nemesis?"

Gawd, I hope I don't leave the baby somewhere when it gets here.


lucky said...

i have permanent placenta brain. at least you have an excuse!!! and if hell is for bad jokes, then i'm living it right now...

Ash said...

Baby brain doesn't leave when baby comes. Just gets worse. Hehe.