My mommy-brain only reared its ugly head once at the very beginning, which probably had more to do with me being nervous than actual mommy-braindom, but it's easy and useful to blame everything on either hormones or being tired.
Yesterday was Pregnancy Loss Remembrance Day, and we went to the lake with Hannah and put some of Baby T's ashes near "his" bench (where I used to sit when I was preggo with him). We lost him on October 12, 2010, so every year we have that anniversary followed immediately by the remembrance day and all the walks and ceremonies that people have around this time of year. It's like a week or so that is heavily devoted to Baby T, and I like that. Sometimes I feel like the Mustard Seed Baby misses out because we don't remember her as much (I think it was a her). But when I say Baby T I kind of lump them both together, and we had TMSB for such a short time, I'm sure she understands.
One thing I've been happily surprised by is how much time I still have to read books. I had expected all book-reading to go out the window when I had a baby. But she spends so much time sleeping now, even when she's sleeping in my arms I can read on my kindle easily enough. I don't get deep reading periods of, say, an hour or two uninterrupted - the same way I don't get deep periods of uninterrupted sleep - but it's enough to keep me happy. I'm almost done with the JK Rowling mystery, The Cuckoo's Calling. I will admit to reading it just because it's JK Rowling. I've never been a big mystery reader. But I think after this I'm going to have to try some good mystery writers now because I'm totally addicted. It's all starting to become clear now, and I'm on pins and needles waiting to see who the killer is. I sure hope Hannah is quiet tonight because I need some good reading time.
7 more working days until I start back full time. I'm exhausted, but I'm going to enjoy using my brain a little bit more each day.
I'm on a roll with taking Hannah to the lake, too. I still get hella scared each time, but I can't live my life in fear of her freakouts. The more I do it, the easier it will become. On Friday I'm taking her to a hospital 45 minutes away for a breastfeeding clinic. I'm petrified at the thought of her wailing in the car for the entire time, but then I remember that the 80's station is a great resource for dealing with screaming babies. She can scream, I can sing along to Duran Duran, and eventually she'll stop, and so will I, and all will be well again.