Dreaming

Vivid dreams are nothing new to me. While some people tell me they hardly ever dream, or they're often plagued with nightmares, I've been lucky enough to grow up with mostly positive dreams (or at least not scary ones) that were as clear as reality. When I was a kid and teenager, I started a dream journal and would write down my dreams as soon as I woke up because that's the best time to remember them. Getting into that habit actually led me to remember my dreams even more: sometimes action-adventures tales where I must escape "the bad guys" and save people, sometimes running late for school dreams (either to attend class or to teach it). I don't usually believe that my dreams have a deeper, symbolic meaning, but tend to believe they're manifestations of the things I worry about most or just think about most throughout the day and throughout my life.

For example, when Hubby and I were trying to conceive, I definitely dreamed about children. The most memorable was August 8, 2018--the night before the 10-year anniversary of my grandmother's passing. I didn't dream about my grandmother, but I dreamed I had locked myself in an unknown bathroom stall to take a pregnancy test. And it came out positive. As I stared at the test in disbelief, a beautiful little brunette girl--three or four years old at the most--came up to the stall and stared at me through the crack in the door that separated us. When I woke up, I started to wonder if maybe this was a sign. A gift from my grandmother. Maybe she was going to be reborn in my child on the anniversary of the day she left. Because it actually was time for me to take a pregnancy test in real life. Two weeks past my fertile window, I could have been pregnant that morning, and had planned to take a real test that day to confirm.

The real life test was negative. Deeply disappointed, I went back to believing the dream meant nothing after all. Just a representation of what I'd been hoping for: A positive pregnancy test. A child. Though a kind friend of mine told me she thought the dream might have been a way of my grandmother telling me, "Be patient...it will happen!"

And then one month and 13 days later I would take another test that would forever change my life. So maybe there's something to them after all.

Most of my dreams aren't that prophetic or special. More nonsensical with occasional guest appearances from family, friends, and fictional characters. And now that I am pregnant, the dreams have gotten just a touch more vivid, and probably just a touch more...weird too.

For example, last night I dreamed I was in my parents' old house, running late for either school or work. My bedroom was a combination of how it was decorated during my teenage years and my childhood years: green and pink quilted comforter on my bed from high school, tall brown dresser for my clothes from elementary school. I remember feeling pleased that I had cleaned the room, and it was indeed tidy, but I had little time to enjoy that fact because I was running so behind schedule. In the dream, my mom called me breakfast, concerned that I wouldn't have time to eat and nourish myself. I called back that it was more important for me to get in a quick a shower before I left, and I searched my dresser frantically for clothes to change into. Apparently, even if this dream was supposed to take place years ago, I was still pregnant, and none of my clothes fit me anymore. I started freaking out and I suddenly turned into Ariel, the little mermaid (I told you things would get weird). As Ariel, I was still freaking out, and still couldn't find clothes, even though I didn't look pregnant anymore. Practically in tears, I was found by someone who could escort me back to the kingdom of Atlantica (presumably Sora from the Kingdom Hearts video games, who helps out all the Disney characters?). After all, I was a princess of Atlantica, and no princess should be left to cry alone without proper clothing when she has a whole kingdom at her disposal. I had a brief video game moment where I could, for some reason, change the size and appearance of Ariel's nose (make it smaller, bigger, look like Homer Simpson or Nigel Thornberry--I decided to keep it the same), and next I was taken to a spacious dressing room in my underwater palace to be fitted for my new outfits. By then I was indeed starting to feel better, and woke up shortly after.

So...yeah. And that's just the most recent dream I remember. There have been others, just as wacky, that I can only assume are a conglomeration of my own pregnancy worries and dreams that Baby is sending me because apparently that's what babies in the womb do.

Thankfully, such odd dreams do not plague my husband during the pregnancy. He woke up on February 3 to tell me, "I dreamed Baby had soft, soft hair."

Awwwwww.

Apparently the most memorable part of his dream was that our son's hair swirled into a cowlick on the left side of his head, as opposed to my husband's cowlick on the right.

Baby is officially warming up to Hubby now too. While he still doesn't kick on command, I find that when I hold Hubby close at night, Baby perhaps recognizes the feel of his daddy's back or tummy, and starts to kick furiously.

Either that or he's feeling a little squished.

But I like to think that maybe our son can hear the inner sounds of my husband's body, feel the warmth of him against me, and is moving because he's excited to feel something new that he recognizes besides the sounds and warmth of my own body.

You never know. A girl can dream.