I am in a sewer tunnel, the creepy and nasty Japanese kind, where the walls circle me and I can see the light of the street about twenty feet above me. I float in excrement and Matthew (have I told you the name of my baby is Matthew?) is in my arms, crying, terrified.
I scream but no one hears me. The water starts to rise and I have no choice but to kick my legs to stay afloat, keeping Matthew above the water. I know that once we reach the top we will be stuck by the bars that seal us in. At this point I know we will drown, and I just hope I get to go first.
Hyperventilating, I push my blankets away and turn to see my husband sound asleep. I walk downstairs and self medicate with leftover Halloween candy, then sit on the couch, in the dark, breathing deeply while Matthew squirms inside of me.
I had heard of vivid dreams during pregnancy. The hormones make them more real. That, coupled with the fact we have to pee every three seconds and the fact that fetuses choose to kick more at night, wakes us up early enough in the REM phase to make them more palpable.
Dreams during pregnancy are known to follow the pattern of the gestational period we are in.
In the first trimester it is common to dream of water or of swimming, which means the uterus is filling with amniotic fluid. Being myself, I had to dream of rivers, all right, but they were made of chocolate. I floated contently on them and always had a straw with me, so I could drink the river. Those were the happy times and I often woke up in a good mood.
By the second trimester, a lot of women start to dream about the sex of the baby. I dreamed I swam inside the womb, met the baby and he had not only a penis on him, but his face was pressed against the placenta. I held his chin towards me so I could see it. His skin was redish and he looked like an alien. I woke up in love anyway.
Once the third trimester turns the corner, however, the nightmares begin. The idea of responsibility sets in and also of unconditional love. The scariest things in life are now about something happening to the baby and the unconscious knows that.
I find it intriguing how the mind has a funny way to tell us a symbolic story of what may happen and what is really stressing us out.
But my question right now is, how the hell did I end up in a sewer in Japan? And what kind of mother takes her baby there, anyway?
I still remember my dreams of my little "Kit" - an adorable little fox kit playing in the snow, with a small clump of snow stuck to his nose. That same little fox has come back in other dreams playing with a wolf. The wolf is familiar to me because I've dreamed of him since I was a small child, and his presence with the kit is always welcome. Those dreams started happening a lot when I was stressed about something going wrong with the pregnancy. As if the kit always had a guardian angel.
ReplyDeleteLuckily, I don't remember many dreams right now. Unfortunately, the ones I have been remembering aren't too comforting and usually involve some unsavory people from my past. I'll be happy when those don't return.