I heard someone say or I read somewhere that “pregnant women are stupid.” I have to agree. Having gone from a person with so many thoughts running through my head I had to start a blog to deal with them all so I could focus on the other stuff I wanted to write, to someone who can barely compose a coherent sentence, let alone an entire blog piece, all in the span of just under 8 months, I have to agree.
The end of the first trimester and beginning of the second were the worst. I look back at my blog posts from that time. The number of posts start to dwindle. The topics become more inane. In fact I wrote about the fact that my brain seemed not to be functioning as it had previously. And I just wrote about the concern, but there seemed to be no real pressing urge to change it. I was sitting there muddled in a fog.
Gradually over the last few weeks I have started feeling somewhat clearer, but by brain in no way compares to how it was when I was not pregnant. My energy levels certainly don’t. I have always been the sort of person who has a list of 20 things to do and gets all of them done with time left over. Now? Now it’s a feat if I remember, oh yeah, I have that appointment today, and manage to dress and get to it on time. Then that’s it. I’m done for the day. I also used to clean the house once a week. Now it seems it takes seeing pink around the drain in the tub to remind me to clean mildew, or the dog chewing up a roll of toilet paper to force me to drag out the vacuum cleaner. About the only thing I’ve remained regular on in the housecleaning department is keeping the kitchen clean. Of course, our kitchen is so tiny, if it isn’t kept clean it’s a disaster within 2 days so the “mildew ring” shows up sooner, so to speak.
Words also used to flit off my tongue. I had a thought and a response to everything. Often these thoughts had some intelligence behind them, and I would analyze and think around all the angles. Not anymore. Now I don’t even have the thoughts, let alone intelligent ones.
I have some great writing projects I’m working on. They are like cars with broken batteries. I give them a jump. I get them going for a bit. Then they stop again and languish, waiting for AAA to come and jump them again. Only AAA takes its own sweet time. I took months completing and revising a short story I’m pretty pleased with. I was at the query phase, ready to send letters to the magazines I had chosen. Incidentally, choosing the magazines took weeks. Then I started to write the query letter, but it didn’t roll off the fingers as such letters had in the past. I had to write something saying what the story was about. Stuck, I stopped for the day, then took a trip to Portland, and I still haven’t finished. It’s on the list.
The list. I’ve started making these because I forget things. I was never much of a list maker in my personal life. As an attorney, I had lists. I had calendars. I am extremely organized. But I never had to in my personal life. Now I do. If I don’t make a list, even the stories and non-fiction pieces I’m working on are forgotten.
I realize pregnancy has hijacked my brain. I realize at some point the thoughts will return. However, I also realize that soon there will be a little baby to take my attention and getting these things done will be a practicality nightmare. This realization is somewhat overwhelming. Will it be years before I get my brain back? Will the stories I have been working on be dated by then? I feel the urge to complete these projects, but can’t seem to get them done. However, I have stopped just lying in bed in the morning when I can’t sleep after I had to get up for the tenth time to pee. I have started coming here and writing a little bit now and then. So maybe there is hope. I guess it will be obvious by the number of posts I make here. Or not.