My name is, uh...

Amy! That's right!

Pregnancy #1 gave me baby brain. Sleep deprivation made sure it stuck around. It lifted, momentarily, then I fell pregnant again. Pregnancy #2 made me more of a dullard than ever.

Pregnancy #2 Dullard Highlights


  • I forgot my name. Several times.
  • When I did remember my name, I called myself by my maiden name.
  • I forgot how to use my ATM card. I stood over the machine, holding my card, certain I knew how to do this. The kind manager at Australia Post gently reminded me, to be rewarded with my pregnant embarrassed awkward brand of vitriol.
  • I forgot what day it was.
  • I once almost forgot to pick Millie up from daycare.


Now, I'm not pregnant anymore. A reflux-free life aside, I was looking forward to being able to remember such key important life skills as:

  • My name
  • How to drive the car
  • and other such important matters.


I did forget how to drive the car the other week. That's not how I bingled it and wound up with a fancy hire car for two weeks, incidentally. That was a whole other fun story.

I've been blessed enough to accidentally get my first gig in 18 months for this weekend. I say accidentally, because I was at Playgroup, and the venue owner was there with her kids and said 'HEY AMY! WANT TO DO A SUPPORT SPOT FOR DEBRA CONWAY?' (We yell a lot at Playgroup. There's a lot of loud small kids around.) 'SURE!' I said. Forgetting that I hadn't played guitar in about a year, banjo for two and a half years. I figured when I said I wanted to be paid that they'd rescind their offer. But alas, they did not. Oops.

Muscle memory is a beautiful thing. My hands know how to play my songs, my voice knows how to sing them. My brain has ABSOLUTELY no idea of the lyrics. This is bad. I've spent a week or so feeling confident that I had this, that my head could remember the lyrics and we'd just keep singing. After all, that's what I'd done for five years on the live music circuit and my brain had always come through.

Ah, no.

Instead of taking over and filling in the words as I open my mouth, my brain goes
'Winter comes, and I don't know his name, are charity and faith all just the same, if anybody asks do I still feel the same, I'm just waiting for the thaw.... And...uh, well, um. Shit.'

I worried quietly about this for the remainder of the week, convinced if I could just keep singing it I'd remember. I don't know if I've got those lyrics written down somewhere, and I panicked that I wouldn't be able to find them if I did.

Eventually I said to Mr S late one night 'Hey - do you remember the beginning to the second verse of Thaw? It's just that I can't remember how it starts, and I know it should be just there, and I'm sure I can remember it, but I haven't been able to do yet, I think it starts with the melody dum dum dum...'

He looked at me and said 'Did you listen to the CD?'
'CD?'
'Yes. Remember your second album? When you recorded that song?'

Oh.

Wish me luck this weekend, be prepared for plenty of witty banter and potential humming.