Dreams

Growing up with my mom’s horror stories of the dreams she had when she was pregnant with me, or my little sister predisposed me to expect nightmares about bugs. This has not been the case, in any of my three pregnancies.




This is the first time that I’ve gotten so far along (8w1d!) and the dreams are starting to turn weird.



Earlier, my dreams were vivid but weird. I had a dreams about Papa-to-be and his frat brothers going to jail on a bus (to protect petey. The only Petey we know in real life is a penguin pillow pet.) which I only found out because his Escalade (we don’t own an Escalade) had the lights on and when I went out to turn the lights off, it told me that dear Papa had left his wallet and cell phone in the car. (in digital display, on the center console.) So naturally, I jumped on a centaur and rode through the town naked to find him. And thought to check a prison bus.







Then my subconscious got cruel, but realistic. The night before a fasting blood test that was all the way at 10 am, I dreamed of nothing but eating chocolate covered strawberries. Luxurious, perfectly sweet strawberries in the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted. Most amazing food I’ve ever tasted.

Of course, then I woke up and couldn’t eat for four hours.

And the chocolate covered strawberries I made later that night weren’t as good as my dream strawberries. How mean is that?



Last night was the first nightmare. I had a perfectly realistic dream that I got up and went to the bathroom (which I do a lot these days.) But in the bathroom, I started miscarrying again, with so much blood, so much red blood.



I woke up crying and had to talk myself into the reality of the situation, that I was lying in bed, that I hadn’t gotten up, and then I had to go check just to be sure. What an awful dream.