Dreams are weird. I really wish I had been writing all these down, because pregnant dreams can be out of control. (I once had a dream that I gave birth to 12 Popsicles, and my family was fighting for the frozen treats, unperturbed.) Last night was another bizarre one.
I woke myself up from talking loudly, which I never do. Talking in my sleep happens all the time (apparently), but never to the point of waking myself up. I guess I had something important to say. Grahm isn't here this week (so many tears), so he wasn't there to rehash what I said. Though, now that I think about it, he's never really good at that anyway. I'm actually kind of terrified that he'll never hear Sawyer cry in the middle of the night. Girl better have a set of lungs on her. Wait. I realized what I just wished. I take it back; I totally take it back.
Back to the dream.
I was wandering through a field that I recognized. I was holding hands with Grahm, guiding him through the tall wheat stalks. My dress was white and long. Very granola. I was barefoot and visibly pregnant. We were smiling. Eventually, we were in a house. Or cabin. It was a very long cabin; the hallway looked like it was never going to end. Rooms shot off in every direction. Toys were piled in the hall, and we had to climb or strategically maneuver around them to progress. It was a struggle; some of the toys were incredibly big. I was still holding Grahm's hand.
After what seemed like ages of hurdling plastic, noisy things, we decided to turn into one of the rooms. I kept asking for water. Maybe we thought this room had some. Instead two women who I didn't recognize were there. They were horrified when they saw us. "What are you doing here! You can't be here! This isn't for you. You cannot be here." They kept repeating those words over and over and over.
Grahm and I stood there, shocked. I started to cry. "We thought this was the way?" Grahm asked the women, who were now walking toward us. "You cannot be here. This isn't for you," they repeated. Before they reached us, Grahm lead me back to the hallway. More climbing. More struggling. It was a haze. I remember feeling tired, but Grahm never letting go of my hand. I still wanted water.
The next thing I know, we are in another room. It was big. This time there was only one man present. He was sitting by a pool, and I desperately wanted to jump in. He didn't say anything to us, but I talked to him anyway. His face seemed comforting somehow. "I'm having a baby. Now. A baby. This is happening now." Grahm sat me down and told me dip my feet in the water. The cold ripped through me. The old man was still there, still watching, still silent. I then started recounting every line of various Friends episodes that I could think of, all to the old man. He only nodded. Up and down, up and down. Grahm still held my hand.
I woke myself up saying, "Bing. Bing. Chandler Bing."