« bug-eyed . . . | Home | i couldn’t help myself . . . »
dream land . . .
By Lesle | November 21, 2008
This is way long. I’m not expecting anyone to read this whole thing, you may want to skip right over . . . I just wanted to get it typed up and thought my blog was the perfect place for it.
We’ve been arguing pro-choice and pro-life on the board, which is probably part of the reason I had this dream. It was so real. I love it when interesting dreams seem almost real enough to touch!
It was crystal clear while I laid in bed contemplating getting up and blogging it (a feat I’ve never been able to do before), but it was a dream, so it may sound a bit wonky typed out. There are some bizarre and kinda gross moments too. I’m not even gonna try to interpret it, but will end it with pictures I’ve shared before.
I’ll start where I remember.
Two women are at the place I am, they are waiting to be interviewed for a job. I’m in a lobby and I said to the receptionist, “They’re still waiting?” And, “I apologize, she is very busy.” I don’t think I work here . . . maybe I used to work here. I decide to help the receptionist out by writing down three questions for her to give to the job applicants so they can at least do something towards their interview.
That’s right, I’m here because this is a health clinic. And I have an appointment, because I am VERY pregnant. I realize this because I just waddled through the door to the offices. The kids are with me, but I don’t see them. It’s closing time, but the place has been swamped, so I’ve not had my appointment. And I ask, are they going to see still see me, the receptionist assures me they will. Then she asks me to go ahead and give a urine sample.
My back hurts.
I go to the restroom only to discover that it is a complete mess . . . with puddles of urine and trash on the floor. The smell is disgusting. But the actual toilet is pristine, so I’ll be able to sit and pee instead of hovering. Above the toilet I notice a box. I’m not sure what the box is for so I open it. It has several multi-colored eye-droppers of oil in it. I spilled one on my hand. I still don’t know what it’s for so I put it away. I grabbed a cup to pee in, but it’s not round . . . it’s oval, more narrow but longer . . . surprisingly it caught quite a bit of urine.
The door to the restroom had a glass pane in it. ??? That irked me, but I got the feeling it was a two way mirror. I could see out, but they didn’t appear to be able to see in. I pulled some tissue off the roll, but the end of it accidentally touch down in one of the puddles of urine and it started to soak it up. I got disgusted and dropped it to the floor. The bathroom started to fill with water, just a foot or so deep. It didn’t scare me or gross me out. My bare feet were in the water, but I realized the mess on the floor was being diluted by the water and reached down and grabbed my flip-flops and put them on my feet. I couldn’t find a lid for my urine sample. So I walked it out without a lid and handed it to a nurse. It was kinda bloody and a little fleshy too. Very bizarre. She spilled a little of it on the floor.
My back is really starting to hurt.
I go back into the lobby and sit. One of the ladies asks me about my pregnancy, she wonders how much the baby moves around. Actually, I haven’t ever felt the baby move. But I don’t seem concerned about it. I’m tired of waiting, so I decided to take myself to an examination room. I walk in a room, it has a long hall, at the end of it, laying on a couch is Ian’s private LSSP, Dr. Brams. I walk up to him and ask where they are. He has no idea. From another door into the room, a young woman walks in. I say, “Hey you!” And she smiled at me. Apparently they are having an affair, but I like this girl where as I didn’t like the other girl he was having an affair with. She goes and sits on a couch and starts watching TV.
I am very melodramatic with the doctor about not knowing where the staff is. The doctor, by the way, is no longer Dr. Brams, but a woman with long blonde hair and one blue and one green eye. She walks out the door and leaves it open. I sit down on the lounge up against a wall. The kids are with me now, Ian and Emy tell me they want to live with their dad. I tell them no. The continue to watch TV.
My back is hurting so badly that I’m constantly tense, no longer able to relax.
My midwife walks in and I turn into a blithering idiot. “I’m so happy to see you. I was so scared I wasn’t going to find you in time. I’m sorry I’m crying I should just stop talking. But I’m so glad you’re here. My back hurts, I can’t relax, that’s what its like. I’m in so much pain, I can’t relax I can barely breath. I’m sorry I’m crying.” Weird, because before she walked in I was just sitting on the couch watching TV. Must have been a contraction.
Now, I am sitting naked with a small blanket lying over my swollen belly, on the same lounge where I was watching TV before. My midwife is kneeling on the floor in front of me, she says in a calm, soothing voice, “Everything is going to be fine Lesle. He is going to come out, we’re going to roll him over and cut the cord, and I’ll hand him right over to you so you can nurse him.” I was excited about the prospect of nursing again and I grabbed my left breast and realized it was leaking colostrum. I squeezed a little bit and the fluid shot out and hit my midwife. Everyone laughed.
I was calm, but curious about a man standing outside the door. He didn’t appear to have any clothes on and he was trying to shut our door to give us privacy, but he couldn’t reach it without exposing himself. I looked at him as if to say, jeesh, look at me, if I have no shame at the moment, you should feel comfortable here. So he walked in the room. He wasn’t naked though, he was bare chested but had on jeans and shoes and was drinking a beer, which made me laugh out loud. He asked me if I could do the same thing with my other breast, and I looked down at it and said, “Nah, that boob never produced as much.” And sure enough, with a squeeze only a small stream of colostrum trickled out.
My back is starting to hurt again.
Ian, first day home from the hospital.
Max, our first hour together.
Emy, first moment I laid eyes on her.
L
Topics: Body Image, Feedback Friday, Scrapjazz, This and That |
November 21st, 2008 at 4:19 pm
how sweet
November 22nd, 2008 at 12:53 pm
Let me just go ahead and analyze this FOR you.
You must be pregnant by some man that walks around without his shirt on drinking beer.
Yeah. That’s it.
Adorable pics!!
November 24th, 2008 at 11:20 am
Well at least you weren’t freaking out and crying like I do in those kind of dreams lol! Nice job shooting the mid wife!