A few weeks ago, the fog finally cleared. I can think. I can plan. I wake up and want to do something with the day. And I can recognize that whatever the reason, the fog was making life quite difficult. When I was five and six months pregnant, I didn't know how I would survive until October because everything (thinking, walking, surviving) was already so hard. Now that I'm eight months along, most days are much easier. And things that seemed so impossible then (like adding a new baby to this mix), seem quite doable.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
On a clear day, you can see forever.
Shortly after we moved in, the fog rolled into my brain. While I could meet the daily needs at home, planning, enjoying, and thriving were beyond me. I hate it when this happens. I hate not knowing why (pregnancy? moving? anemia?) I also struggle to think well enough to figure out how clearly (or not) I'm thinking.