Dreams and Signs

You would think that since I have been living, thinking, breathing baby over the past 6 years, I would have had many dreams about pregnancy and motherhood. Surprisingly, I haven't.

I remember the only time I have dreamed about children. It was 2004 and we had been trying to conceive for about 6 months. I had a really vivid dream where I was a mother to a newborn baby boy. It felt so real, that I shot up in bed and looked around for him when I woke up. I remember thinking how strange it was that I dreamed of a boy, as I have always thought my first baby would be a girl.

Since that time, I haven't dreamed about anything parenthood. In the last two years, I haven't dreamed much at all. I'm not sure why, but over the last few months, I have begun dreaming again; many, many dreams.

Last night, I dreamt again about a little boy. This time, he was about a year old. I was laying on the floor and he crawled on top of me. He grabbed my shirt at the shoulders with his pudgy little hands and hugged me, resting his head on my upper chest.

I remember what I felt at that moment: a pure sense of joy. The kind of joy I haven't felt in a long time. Pure happiness.

I wasn't sad when I woke up, just wistful. But I dismissed the dream quickly, got ready for the day and headed to church.

In church this morning, the speakers spoke about signs. One thing that was said today was that signs are not to give you faith, but to reward the faithful. You can't demand a sign from God to prove Himself to you, but He can choose to reach out and touch you, if He sees fit. As they talked, my thoughts wandered to my dream.

I am not saying my dream was a sign. What I do think is that instead of dismissing it, I should take it as a tender mercy from God. It was a glimpse of what may be in store for me someday. When you've spent the last 6 years climbing the mountain of infertility, it's sometimes nice to see what might be waiting for you on the other side.

Dorky Dream

Okay, so I almost didn't document this, but I thought 'why not?'. I've already shared (most of) my thoughts, feelings, and emotions, no matter how pitiful, amusing, or embarrassing they were... what's one more?

Only this one probably takes the cake, as they say. So, here goes. (And it's okay to laugh - I did at one point.)

I blame it all on that 20/20 television show. I watched it last Friday night. It was called "Extreme Motherhood" or something like that. A portion of the show focused on women who wanted to be mothers, but never got the chance. These women carry around a (for lack of a better word) doll, as if it were a child.

In their defense, the doll looks very life-like (I think they are called 're-borns'), but it is just a doll. Regardless, these women diaper, dress, hold and cuddle these dolls. They take them out shopping, push them in strollers, strap them in car seats, and the list goes on.

Truthfully, I think it's a little odd, but who am I to judge how someone copes with sadness and loss? Especially after what happened later that night. This is where it gets ridiculous.

So 20/20 and its feature on "Extreme Motherhood" concludes and I head off to bed. That night, I had a dream...

I was talking with Ryan (I'm not sure where we were), and out of the corner of my eye, I see my cat (you read that right: my cat) running by, doing flips, rolling on the ground, trying to get my attention. I just ignore him, as Ryan and I are deep in conversation.

At the same time, I am hearing a voice calling "Mama, hey, look over here!" "Look over here, Mama!" I ignore that too, figuring it is some kid nearby calling to his mom. (Do you see where I am going with this???)

Soon, however, I realize it is Cosmo (yes, my cat) calling to me.

I start to sob. Was it because I discovered my cat could talk - thereby guaranteeing I would qualify for a spot on 'stupid pet tricks' and get to meet David Letterman???

No. It was because I was so desperate to be called a mother, it didn't matter who (or what) was saying it. To hear it felt so good, I couldn't contain myself.

Luckily, I woke up at that point. Very confused, slightly embarrassed, and feeling pretty pathetic. At least now I can laugh at it!