You would think that being pregnant would bring on a slew of pregnancy-related dreams (much like the year of wedding planning was filled with wedding dreams… mostly nightmares of everything going wrong but still).
However, I’m finding myself having more and more dreams about someone trying to hurt or kill me. I don’t remember all of my dreams but the ones I do remember include:
- A red-headed boy I once went out with when I was a freshman in high school somehow made his way back into my life. He was incredibly jealous of Jeremy and therefore tried to kill him and wreak havoc in my home.
- A serial killer was trying to break into my house and kill me. I’ve had variations of this dream several times. Usually my home is different in each dream but the them of someone trying to kill me remains the same.
- 2 guys approach me as I’m trying to walk to my car and try to rape me. I screamed for help and even played the whole, “are you crazy? I’m pregnant!” as though that type of reasoning would work with a rapist. I somehow got away from them but them managed to inflict some crazy acid burn on my face.
What.the.fuck. These dreams are not fun. I also dreamed last week that I blinded my dog, Petie. I hit him in the face really hard with the door (accidentally) and it managed to blind him in one eye. And somehow, I still feel guilty about that.
I’ve only had 2 dreams related to a baby. A month or so ago I dreamt that I had a baby boy who was born with an adult sized head. He was heinous to boot. Because of his head and fugliness, I couldn’t bear to give him the boy name that I love so dearly. So instead I named him Davey (not that there’s anything wrong with Davey).
Last night, I had a dream that I was breastfeeding. But again – the baby was a boy. And breastfeeding was unbelievably easy.
People have repeatedly told me to “pay attention to my dreams” during pregnancy because they could reveal something. What the hell am I predicting?
First – I’m wondering if I’m going to have a boy. The sonogram technician never gave us photographic evidence of our baby’s “parts”.
And second – is something plotting my death? Will I become the victim of another senseless Baltimore crime? Or am I really just that scared of labor & delivery?