THE TETHERING PLACE

My brain.

It is an adventure in there.

I went to a baby shower on Sunday,  and tied to the top of my gift a sweet notepad on which the words were scripted, “For I know the plans I have for you…” {Jeremiah 29:11} because, believe me new mama, if you don’t write your plans down, God will be the only one that knows them… despite you making them five minutes before.

Trust me. “Baby brain” is legit.

Yesterday, my husband tried to direct my attention to something cute our littlest guy was doing. He said my name multiple times as I was immersed in some inconsequential task, and minutes later I looked up with the echo in my head of my name being spoken at some point and looked at Marshall asking, “Were you trying to get my attention?” He stared at me, dumbfounded. “I am two feet away from you and I must have said your name 5 times.” His eyes like saucers, he spoke aloud, “I feel like I am dealing with a 12 year old.”

No. No, that is not fair. That is giving a 12 year old far too little credit.

I have found cooked carrots in my cupboard. I have left a friend’s daughter at school despite making plans to pick her up not ten minutes earlier. I have found myself in the kitchen, or my bathroom, or the car, wondering why I am there. I have momentarily thought I had lost a child at Target only to realize he was at school. Where I had safely dropped him off just an hour before. And last week I stared at my husband as he imparted some story, swearing that perhaps he was speaking another language as it seemed the words hit my ears and dropped to the floor. Nothing penetrated. I had no idea what he was saying despite trying SO hard to listen.

It has got to be infuriating. I do not blame him or my kiddos for their frustration with me. I just don’t have a solution apart from sleep and a hormonal balancing act. My sweet infant has slept for one 5 hour stretch {last night! hallelujah!} in the 4 months of his life and otherwise is up every 2 hours at night and catnaps during the day. He is the sweetest, most smiley little guy, thankfully, but the lack of sleep is making me a little crazed.

I often find my brain has just temporarily checked out, taken a break of sorts, as if the noise around me is a steady shower and my brain has decided to duck out of the rain. It has encased itself in a rain slicker, impervious to the voices of my beloved people.

The struggle is real. I have heard that menopause does similar things, and friends fighting cancer speak of “chemo brain”. I know I am not the only one that suffers from this brain-freezing ailment… regardless, this sleep deprived hormonal state I find myself in has robbed me of a good part of my sanity.

And the purpose of this post? Just to say, you are not alone. Just to give a little shout out to say I am still here, that I am excited to write and am trying to figure out how to do that as I hold a newborn, can’t remember my name, and don’t know what I just sat down to tell you about.

So here’s sending a smile and a hug and an encouragement that says, just keep walking, my friend. We’ll make it through!

Now if you could just remind me where we are headed…