Losing My Mind

I wish I meant that title figuratively. Unfortunately, over the past couple of years trouble with my memory has become very real to me. Like tonight.

"When is Kacey's birthday?" a friend asked.

I stood there, drawing a complete blank. Honest to God, I couldn't remember. My baby, the little girl who can light up a room with her smile, who I love more than anything, and I couldn't remember her birthday. What kind of a mom does that? It's not the first time it's happened. Sometimes it's how much my kids weighed, how old they are--all the things that every mother should know in and out, backward and forward. But sometimes I don't, and it devastates me.

But it's not just my kids. My planner is filled with tons of notes. A dry erase board on the side of our refrigerator helps me map out the week. I have a dedicated calendar at work just so I don't miss an important project or deadline. It's embarrassing when I have to keep apologizing for dropping the ball on things. It's terrifying when I ask Mark something and he tells me we already discussed it and I have no recollection of the conversation. I see the looks from people like I am the biggest flake in the world. I want to tell them that I'm trying, I really am. I want to be able to juggle all the things that moms do, all the things I used to be able to and not have them keep coming crashing down on me.

 

What do you mean you forgot my birthday?

Memory loss is part and parcel of this stupid disease. I know that. But knowing something and living it are two totally different things. I am also very aware that stress wreaks havoc on even the healthiest person's mind, and this week has been stress x 10 for me. There are a million reasons why it could be perfectly understandable that for a brief moment I couldn't remember my baby girl's birthday tonight. But, guess what, none of those million reasons will ever make it O.K. Not for this mom.