Recently I read an article from Brain Child magazine about the "Mother Brain" (written by Leanna James) that grows alongside a mum's normal brain as the baby grows inside the mum. This brain, says the author, "lives in a different time zone, at once much slower and much faster than the 'regular' one."
My mother brain doesn't process speech pathology right now, or anything other than mothering. Before becoming a mother, I thought I would dread this, and truth be told, occasionally I do. In the article, James describes the clash like this:
"And then someone asks me a question, and I must summon my powers of language and logic. My other brain revels in this sort of thing. It loves to classify, to analyze, to approve or disapprove, and to describe the entire process in streams of words. [...] I open my mouth to hold forth, but mother-brain answers instead of me, and what comes out is ... very little. Sometimes nothing."For the past few weeks, this type of situation has plagued me. Not that I have a bazillion colleagues or friends asking me difficult, non motherly questions, but I just find I can't think properly anymore. Every time I try to think, I think Ebba Ebba Ebba, like this little hum inside my head instead of real thoughts.
But, reading James' article, I realized that giving in to mother-brain is much less than traumatic and much more that magical. Another favourite quote:
"I try to explain [motherhood], but it doesn't come out right, somehow. It's incredible, I tell my friends, anxious to share the news. My daughter cried, my daughter pooped, my daughter looked at me and laughed. I hear my own words and think, is that all you have to say?
"But wait, the mother-brain protests. Worlds within worlds unfolded in front of your eyes, universes the size of a pea appeared in your palm! Tell them about that. Tell them about [my daughter's] gaze, how there's nothing to compare with that."
I could keep quoting the whole blog long. The article was amazing, really, and reminded me to be proud and happy to be a mom of such an amazing little princess. But, that would just be boring. Instead I'll let my mother brain take over and I'll go snuggle my little bundle right now. Because, after all, what is more important than that?