I like to think of myself as a smart girl. I did well in high school and then went on to receive academic scholarships to attend the University of Southern California, where I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree. Sure, my career consists of being on top of Justin Bieber’s latest mishaps and Taylor Swift’s newest boy-toy conquests, but I insist on balancing out the fluff by keeping up to date on world issues and current events.
But it turns out that even with all of my education, I’ve not been spared of a very common side effect of pregnancy known as “Pregnancy Brain.” Ever heard of it? It’s apparently where all of my brain cells are moving from my head, flowing through my bloodstream and must, I repeat MUST, be going straight to the brain of my unborn child.
I pray that’s the case. I pray that my baby must be preparing to be some child prodigy therefore needing every last brain cell in my head to fulfill his/her God given destiny of being the person that cures cancer or becomes the President of the United States. This has to be it, right? It couldn’t possibly be that pregnancy is just making me really, really dumb.
Pregnancy brain is no myth, ladies. In addition to losing my mind, I’ve lost my wallet (please return it if you find it!), my keys, and on more than one occasion, I’ve lost my train of thought. I’ve been in the middle of an interview and halfway through my question, think to myself, “what was I saying?”
Last week, my husband Gibby was dropping me off at the airport when I realized I was late for my flight… by 24 hours! I pleaded with the ticketing agent, asking for her understanding, as I’d just come down with a bad case of pregnancy brain. She sympathized and put me on the next flight to Austin.
And so I can’t be trusted. Gibby is now in charge of keeping track of my schedule, making sure I take my vitamins, ensuring that I get to work on time, and getting us to our doctor's appointments. He also makes sure my shoes match, that I remember to put on my bra, and occasionally has to remind me that it’s time to shower (didn’t I just do that?)
And while the lapse in brain function can be frustrating, don’t think I haven’t used it to my advantage.
Late for work? Sorry, pregnancy brain.
Forgot to lock the doors? Ooops... pregnancy brain.
Missed your birthday? Don’t blame me. Blame the pregnancy brain.
Oh, I’ve already had my serving of dessert? That darn pregnancy brain is at it again.
Question. Can I still use this excuse after the baby boy arrives? It can really come in handy!