For quite some time, I’ve been having teaching dreams–planning out lessons, giving my lessons, dealing with misbehavior, etc. Although they are annoying dreams, I’ve taken them to mean that I truly care about my profession and my students. I worry about them night and day. And that’s what makes me a teacher.
Well, I’ve started to have some unsettling mommy and baby dreams, and I haven’t even given birth yet.
My first dream was about a month ago. The baby came now–I am only 18 1/2 weeks…that’s not much. The baby was fully formed, although very small and weak. But there was some dream-logic health condition that required the baby being birthed then. So, I did. And then the doctors realized the baby was fine and suggested putting it back in. But I was nervous–would that help? would the baby survive?
My second dream was a couple of weeks ago. The baby was born at the right time and in the right health. But, I had to go back to school–not teaching, but actual schooling for a grad program. Yet, it was at a boarding high school and I had to live there without my husband or baby…I don’t understand. Justin also had to continue with college, so he couldn’t take care of the baby. So, one of our good friends in our church volunteered to nanny our baby. I was so sad I couldn’t raise my baby.
Then, last night I had a scary dream. I was still pregnant–about as pregnant as I am now. My siblings, mother, and I were on a refugee plane, fleeing from a war area. But, it got shot down and the enemy started grouping us together. My sister and mother were put with the adults, and my brother and I (for some reason) were put with the minors–I guess I just looked like a pregnant teen in my dream. Well, they grouped all the babies together and they were crying. My brother (17) went to help calm down the younger children and I headed to the babies who were being piled up. One of the soldiers pushed me aside, noticed I was pregnant and said I was lucky I was already pregnant (scary innuendo). He took a baby and started bending it backward. I cried and begged him to let the baby go. Then, out of spite to me, or annoyance of the crying babies, he snapped the babies back. It went silent and he threw it aside and started coming to the rest of the pile. I was on my hands and knees crying.
I woke up in the middle of the night crying. My husband heard and wrapped me in his arms. But, this morning, even now, that image of slaughtering babies and that gruesome snapping sound is still in my mind.
The only reason I can think of these dreams is because I am worrying about my unborn child.
As much as I would love, I doubt these dreams will ever, ever, ever go away. Once my child is born and has a face, it’ll be nightmares about them. I’ll worry about my child the rest of my life.
I don’t like it one bit, but, I guess it means I truly am a mom.