You know how they say that pregnant woman often have whacky dreams? Well ... I think it's true. Although, you all know that I always have whacky dreams, pregnant or not. I mean, the hippos flying on celery (remember that one?) occurred a few weeks before I got pregnant. So, it is kind of to be expected that my dreams would get more and more bizarre as a result of the pregnancy. The funny thing is, they haven't. Sure, I have had a few dreams about giving birth in strange places, like on the side of the road when my sweet husband and his family abandoned me to go garage saleing, or on the stage of my high school, assisted my MckMama's hubby. But I haven't really been having many over-the-top-I-have-got-to-blog-about-this type dreams. In fact, I rarely wake up remembering my dreams these days. Which is sad. Because I love waking up and giggling about how bizerko my dream was the night before. Maybe it's just because my dreams are on average so weird and crazy that it would take something ultra bizarre to even phase me.
One thing I have noticed, though, is that in every single dream I do remember, no matter what it is about, when it takes place, or who is involved, I am always pregnant or have a baby. Last week, I was dreaming that I was still in high school, E and I were not yet dating, but we were hanging out and I kept apologizing to him that my baby was kicking him. Then I woke up and realized I was kind of laying on my tummy, and the baby was kicking against that mattress, seemingly asking for more room. I also recently dreamed that my family were all super heroes who could stop crimes. My Aunt Shelley was driving me to a crime scene in the getaway car and as I got out of the car, I said to her "If I don't make it back, make sure this baby knows who I was". Um, weird.
Last night I had a dream that was not really weird or anything but differed from any other dreams I have had so far in a few distinct ways. In my dream, I had a newborn baby and was at a friend's house with a bunch of other people and I was trying to breastfeed. I clearly was not a pro at breastfeeding and I was getting very frustrated because there was no where for me to escape from all the people and I could not seem to feed my child without, you know ... letting it ALL hang out. So I started to cry. And then the baby did an explosive poop all over my face. Nice.
So, the dream itself was not really that strange. The people in it were all familiar and the house was familiar. And, really, the explosive poop part, while disgusting, was likely just a picture of what's to come.
What differed between this dream and all of the others I've had where I have already had the baby was the baby itself. In every other dream I have had, it is just a baby. I never remember what it looked like, I never know if it's a boy or a girl and it never has a name. It was always just a face-less, name-less, gender-less baby.
Last night, I can clearly remember what the baby looked like, I know that the baby was a girl, and I know what her name was.
So what do you think? Is it a sign?? Is my Monkey a little girl?