Last night I had to text a girlfriend whose birthday I somehow missed.

Yes, there was a reminder in my Google calendar. And yes, it goes off every single year. But that was simply not enough. This year, that just wasn’t enough for me to remember to wish her a happy birthday.

The text message started with the usual, “I’m sooooo sorry I missed your birthday!” (Insert sad face emoji). But what I really wanted to say is, “I’m so sorry I missed your birthday, but you see—thanks to pregnancy brain, my brain just no longer works.”

And the truth is, It doesn’t.

Maybe it will work again if I read more books…

Maybe if my brain could just have a little more education, I would remember that my toddler wants to eat dinner every single day…

It feels like my neurons are walking through a marsh. They’re trying their hardest to make it through, but as they trudge on, they have to turn back. “We can’t do it, it’s too thick in here.” I know it’s trying—but it’s just not working. .

So, for now, I make lists.

If I go to the grocery store without a list, I’m a dead man walking. Might as well cancel the rest of the afternoon. It’s even worse if I’m forced to go to the grocery store with an antsy toddler. The next thing I know I’ve brought home five kinds of cereal, hand soap, and a lime. We can survive on that for a week, right?

And maybe I need to make lists of the names of people I know because recently my pregnancy brain seemed like it was out to embarrass me.

Last week we were at a party, and I found myself knee-deep in small talk with a woman I’ve met at least five times. She looked familiar, I knew for sure that we’ve met before, and she even knew the name of my baby.

But I couldn’t—for the life of me—remember her name, or her husband’s name, or really much else. And I thought… how is this possible?

I need “Edward,” aka Richard Gere in Pretty Woman to come to my house and prep me before events. He could tell me what the peoples’ names are, why we’re at a particular event, and maybe even bring a few pieces of that beautiful rented jewelry while he’s at it.

It’s ridiculous.

I then think things like, maybe it’s because I’ve been forgetting to take my vitamin D supplement. That’s why it’s been so bad. Definitely. I’ve heard that once you start taking your vitamin D supplement, your mental status is sure to improve. Or, maybe it’s my mood. Anyway, once I start taking that again. It’s gonna be smooooth sailing.

The truth is, I’ve tried many methods to improve my mental fog. But, none of them seem to work. And deep down I know I’m in it for the long haul.

I think I’m stuck in the sludge until my baby makes their exit. And after that, I’m pretty sure NASA is not planning on hiring me anytime soon. I’m prepared to transition into new-mom-sleep-deprivation-fog-mode for no less than three months.

I long for the days when I’m on top of my game or when I could walk up the stairs without forgetting why I went up there in the first place.

The one thing that helps me is knowing this feeling will all be gone one day. My kiddos will be off to elementary school and I will be back to multitasking like a boss. I’ll be able to comprehend what I just read, and will actually remember my friend’s birthdays.

One day this fog will feel like a long time ago.

I also know that every now and then something will jog my memory back to a pregnancy brain moment, and a sense of nostalgia will wash over me. I’ll think back to this strange, foggy, out-of-body time, and weirdly miss it.

It was when my babies were growing inside me.

And so it’s a part of my life right now. Its part of my story, and part of theirs. So if I have to trudge through the fog to get them safely on the other side, I will put on my rain boots and I will keep on going. Just give me a map and a list.

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