>I Had a Title, But I Don’t Remember What It Was.
>I have a fussy baby. I think.
One of the great blessings of giving birth is that ever since delivery day I’ve lived in a perpetual fog, unable to remember even basic information, like what I had for dinner last night. I call it a blessing because it never takes long before the memories of Bruiser’s nightly endless crying jags, the ones that leave me frazzled and exhausted and longing for a local anesthetic, disappear into the ether that’s currently passing for my memory. It’s a good thing, too, because if I woke up retaining a clear mental image of the histrionics from the night before, I would probably be halfway to Alaska by now.
Of course, there’s a downside to my postpartum Alzheimer’s. I’ve forgotten to return countless phone calls and typically pull out some vague memory of an orthodontic appointment or birthday party about one hour before the event is scheduled to occur. But before you send me that well-meaning e-mail, be assured that I have a calendar.
I just forget to look at it. And I have no idea where it is right now.
So I stumble along through my daily life, enjoying the Valium-esque effects of extreme sleep deprivation coupled with the common knowledge that babies suck out your brain cells along with your breastmilk. I let the machine pick up the phone and listen to various acquaintances grow increasingly annoyed that I haven’t called them back yet. I’m sorry. You called, too? Three times? I totally forgot! And now I’m too embarrassed to call you back!
How bad is my forgetfulness? Well, let’s just say that while I congratulated myself on ordering Hubs’s Father’s Day present in plenty of time to arrive before the actual day, it took me until yesterday to remember that hey! I have a father, too! Two of them, in fact! Who both will be expecting some token of my appreciation in a very, very short time! All I can say is, thank God for Internet gift certificates. Hope you’re not reading this, Dads!
Eventually, the fog will clear and I’ll be back on track; just give me another three months or so. In the meantime, join me in my domestic Twilight Zone.
“Did Bruiser wake up during the night?” Hubs asked when we woke up this morning.
“I have no idea,” I replied. And it’s true. Not only do I often have no clear memory of the night before, but I also can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken with a start at 3 in the morning, aware that Bruiser woke up an hour before and I fed him, but with no memory of what happened after that. Where’s the baby?!! my mind shrieks accordingly. What did I do with him?! I imagine I fell asleep mid-feeding and that he’s fallen off the bed, or maybe I fell asleep and rolled over on top of him. Frantically, I look over at his bassinet.
And there he is, sound asleep. Every single time.
Apparently, my body does quite a nice job of mothering on autopilot, with or without the involvement of my brain.
And maybe this is why I think being a stay-at-home mom isn’t so bad. I just don’t remember the hard parts.
>My 10 and a half pound baby was just like this. He cried all the time. Even in the car. All night. He woke up so many times that i would no longer even count. I got that book “The no cry sleep solution” and it tells you to chart wakings and feedings. I apparently was on auto pilot too. I would wake up sleep deprived in the AM with the blank sheet of paper and penceil on the bed side table. It does get better. Hang in there!
>Oh, how you’re bringing back memories! I remember that fog. I think you’re totally on to something that we have that fog for a reason. Survival! I remember dreading the evenings, but miraculously even though fatigued, feeling like every morning was a new day full of hope (hope that baby would sleep, not fuss, etc). Hope he breaks out of his fussiness soon. It does pass, as you know and then the fog will begin to lift.
>Your description of franticly waking wondering where the baby was made me laugh out loud and spit ice cream on my keyboard! I totally remember that feeling! You’re so not alone… and my brain is still mush – 2 years later.
>Not only are you not alone in this, but you also know that this too will pass. You’ve been through it before and survived and will surely do so again. Hang in there!
>And yet, we get sad when they grow so fast!!??!! Remembering with fondness those waking nights and the stolen moments when you pretend that baby needs to nurse, just to get a few minutes of together time! Almost three years ago, I was where you are now. I’d give my right arm to be there again.Here’s to SAHMdom!
>You want to hear something crazy?It *might* not be just the sleep deprivation. Your post-partum hormones are probably different than your usual levels, and if you are nursing I *think* estrogen is suppressed (but do not count on me for that piece of info!).Estrogen is related to brain and memory activity:”According to one study, estrogen is associated with an increase in the release of certain brain chemicals which transmit information across the space between two nerve cells, in the brain (4). Therefore, when estrogen presence decreases or disappears, neural chemicals which previously were available in high quantities are no longer largely present causing a decrease in brain activity. A study of estrogen-treated rats tends to support this theory in that the treated rats had higher memory performances than did estrogen-deprived rats (4).”(http://serendip.brynmawr.edu/biology/b103/f00/web1/donimirski.html)Lots of sympathy b/c I do understand.And the other commenter is right: this too shall pass (although if that makes you want to stink bomb my blog I totally understand).
>Wow, reading this is like birth control – now I remember why I’m not having a third baby. Because constantly interrupted sleep not only put me in a fog, it also made me cranky or weepy without warning. Ick! Good luck – I hope your boy starts sleeping better soon.
>Reading this just reminded me that I never got a card to send to MY father. Or my FIL. Shoot. And my kids are 9 and 10, so I can’t use that as an excuse. LOL But I guess I can say that I’ve got 2 boys playing in 2 different baseball tournaments on different sides of town every stinkin’ night. It’s all I can do to remember who goes where.
>My Roo cried nonstop for the first 3 months of his life. I would often join him, but when that got to be too exhausting I resorted to rocking back and forth making incoherent ‘bu-bu-bu-bu’ noises.Reflux medicine helped, but was no magic cure and he would still wake up in the night howling and occasionally vomit all over me, the beding, and himself. Sometimes twice a night. The kid didn’t sleep through the night until he was almost 7 months old.If you’d said that stuff about mommying not being hard when I was living that, I think I would have had a ‘come apart’ as my hubby calls it, lol.You’re right, however, mama amnesia takes it all away…until you contemplate getting pregnant again and then the memories start to return. Kind of life Post Traumatic stress syndrome.It’s taken me three years to get ready to get back on that particular wagon :).anna j evans
>How are you so funny through the sleep deprivation?? I think that part of the job of the postpartum homrmones is to make us forget the hard parts. Otherwise everyone would be an only child. Because who is crazy enough to put themselves through it more than once if they remember clearly how hard it was the first time. =)
>Just the other day I walked around frantically trying to find my cell phone. I picked up the house phone to call it and it rang. In my hand. The cell phone was in my hand.I’m with you on the tired thing. I asked my own Mom about this and she said “Dear, when you become a mother, your middle name becomes ‘tired'”.
>I’d say I know what you’re going through, but I have a hard time remembering life with my newborn too!
>OMG you have totally captured those early days with a nursing newborn. I mean, I THINK you’ve captured it because I really don’t remember except it SOUNDS familiar in a fague fog-like way…
>Ah, I vaguely remember those days.Or then again, I guess I really don’t.
>It is a good thing for forgetfulness and extremely cute babies. If not for those two things most children would have been given away by now (mine included!)
>The Mrs. had a touch of the postpartum depression resulting in me performing 95% of the night feedings with our 2nd. I have a tremendous amount of empathy for moms (working and stay at home) who do not have anyone who can share in the sleep deprivation and other joys of parenting.
>I can SO relate to this post. My third son is two months old and my life is just a blur. I keep setting my alarm for 11pm to feed him. Every evening I manage to turn off my clock in my sleep. Then I wake in a panic at 1am when he starts screaming. Luckily I won’t remember this stage in a couple more months 😉
>I used to do the same thing when my girls were babies. I also remember when they started sleeping through the night, the thing I wanted more than anything else, but I would still wake up at 2 or 3 a.m. in a total panic and run into their room to make sure they were okay.
>Now you’re makin’ some sense. 😉
>There are 2 groups of SAHMS. Those who stay home without missing the second income they could be bringing in…..and those of us who are actually SACRIFICING to stay home. That is where the line is drawn….what it all boils down to. There are the SAHMS that have lunch dates, sit together at gymnastic class, push their expensive strollers around the track at the exclusive gym they belong to…..and others who eat peanut butter and jelly just like their kids, utilize the path around the park while pushing yard sale strollers, and socialize via telephone while doing a load of laundry. For one group, you are absolutely correct: It’s not that hard. For the second group: slightly harder. For both groups it can be exhausting, lonely, and frustrating. However, that’s pretty much where the commonality ends. I don’t begrudge anyone for being a SAHM, but what annoys me is the ones who really don’t have it that rough, whining about it. It is a slap in the face to those of us who are making it work the hard way.
>I had a comment, but now I don’t remember what it w
>Postpartum Alzheimer’s! Perfect!
>I read this last night, all the way through.Tonight, I jumped over from my site through the BlogHer Ads thing, and read it again before I realized I forgot that I read it the night before! Thomas is nearly 3. So what you have is either contagious, or um, it lasts a long long while!
>Here via sk*rt.Yes! I know exactly what you mean. I panic EVERY SINGLE MORNING when I can’t remember putting my daughter back to bed during the night. I was wondering where all those brain cells had gone! Now I know, right out of my boobs.
>I think that most things in life are just practice for some future phase. Toddlers practice, “I do it myself!” in preparation for adolesence when they say, “I’ll do as I please!” and that’s practice for “arrghhh! where’s my mother when I need her?”Similarly, this postpartum forgetfulness is just practice for menopause when you won’t remember your children’s names and THAT’s practice for old age when you won’t remember that they ARE your children but think that Bruiser is instead your long lost brother. And the lack of sleep? That, too is practice for menopause. Why do you think I’m up at 345am reading all this fascinating stuff about the plight of the SAHM?I read the well-written posts (nicely done, Lindsey!) and scanned most of the comments. I didn’t see many that allude to the notion that it is a woman’s job description to complain bitterly about how hard she works, no matter what she is doing. As an adaptation it tends to keep men up and out of the cave, hut, doublewide or house and working hard to provide their fair share. For those men who don’t feel guilt or responsibility in the face of women’s complaints- well it just gets keeps them up and out and that is a positive adaptive feature, too. Frankly, now that I’ve joined the ranks of those in the phase of “unproductive longevity”- children off starting their lives, husband still happy at work and earning enough, and me at home, recently retired after 35 years of raising children and a wonderful professional life- well, you have no idea. This is a real bitch. Leisure is such hard work that now I’m spending all my time as a volunteer at the zoo and the family homeless shelter and there aren’t enough hours in the day (or night). The way it all works out, ain’t life grand?