I’m Pregnant!

I’m somewhere in my second trimester, I believe. Or did believe. It was a dream, actually. Bordering on nightmare, but incredibly memorable all the same.

Oddly, I was “far enough along” in my pregnancy that I could cradle my baby (okay, that sounds weird) with my hands interlocked under my distended stomach, or actually rest my arms over the top of my swollen stomach like I’ve seen so many of my family members do over the years. And it was so uncomfortable on my back. The muscle tension — or pressure rather — was fairly constant. But that’s not the half of it…

No one would actually believe I was pregnant. Now I know the difference between a pregnant stomach and simple obesity, and this was pregnancy. But no one would believe me. I kept trying to get other pregnant women to get me to see their doctors, because no doctor would see me if I just showed up on my own. The doctors all thought I was crazy and refused me treatment. I was so concerned about the health of the fetus, because I drink occasionally — okay, moderately. All I could think about was the fact that I didn’t realize I was pregnant (again, that sounds weird) until I was fairly far along, and I was terribly concerned about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. The fact that no doctor would see me and confirm the health of my baby was really disconcerting (more disconcerting than the fact that I was pregnant? Well, yes, actually, as being pregnant didn’t seem extraordinary to me at all).

I spent the whole dream in turmoil over my health, the baby’s health, and then the horrible realization that I had NO IDEA how this baby was going to get OUT of me. But still, oddly, that fact was less concerning to me than the fact that no doctor would see me or help me.

Now lest you think (did I really just write the word “lest”?) that I am a stranger to pregancy, let me put your mind at ease. Years ago, in another dream, I gave birth to a baby boy with the largest head I have ever seen while lying on a kitchen table, (named him after my brother Michael, FYI, in that dream)  attended by my mother as midwife. Yes, my mom delivered my baby. Hello weird. Hello therapy. This was the most excrucatingly painful dream I have ever endured (probably precipitating the fear in my more recent dream of exactly HOW the delivery would take place) awake or asleep. It was physically brutal. But I digress (if you can actually digress lower than dreaming you are pregant when you are a 46 year-old male)…

My preganancy never came to term, and I never found a doctor who would see me. And I’ve spent my entire day trying to piece together the goings-on in my waking life that might have triggered such a dream, all for naught. Ni idea. Nada. But I can tell you this… I simply glow when I’m pregnant.

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