Last night, after waking up in the middle of the night (oh, hormones), I went back to sleep and had one of the most peaceful, comforting dreams.
I was in labor. I was at home (although, home was a mix of my current apartment and my childhood home), and there was no midwife or birth attendant. I was only in active labor for under two hours, and I pushed twice before my baby came out. It was easy and although I experienced some pain, it was more like pressure instead of true pain. As he was born, there was very little mess and it was so straight forward. It was a boy – as I held him, I noticed he had very light hair. When he dried, his hair was fuzzy and adorable. His complexion was beautifully pink and he was perfectly plump. I wrapped him in a blue blanket and we just couldn’t believe how amazing the whole experience was, as well as how gorgeous our son was.
I awoke feeling incredibly relaxed and grateful. How funny that I actually felt grateful, even after I realized it was only a dream! I put my hand to my still undeveloped belly, and just rested it there as I replayed the dream in my head, over and over again. I waited until later this afternoon to tell Ryan about it – for most of the day, I just enjoyed the vivid scenes as I daydreamed about it. It was like a gift and it felt good to keep it to myself for a while. After I told Ryan, he was encouraged, too. I feel excited and reassured – and you know, I feel like I was actually able to connect with this pregnancy today. I may be only just shy of 7 weeks pregnant, but I truly have been struggling with the reality of it all, especially in the throes of all this nausea. I needed a little help.
Ahh. What a good dream.