A collection of grievances, memories, occasional musings, and everyday happenings

I Saw My Daughter

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I’m serious.

My dreams have always been insanely vivid (Will is beginning to learn this).  Most mornings, I can remember every scene, every word, every person, every detail.  Occasionally my dreams wake Will up – twice I have scared him awake by laughing in my sleep, and most recently, he woke up to see me sitting up, claiming I could smell blueberries.

I don’t even like blueberries. (I’m trying to, though.)

Anyway, there are three dreams that are recurring, and have stayed with me for years and years.

One: The Look Down Dream

This dream does not allow me to look up.  In most of my dreams, I can see myself talking, walking, etc.  In this dream, it’s from my perspective, only I can never see anything past a certain level.  The only way I can explain it is like this: Sit up/Stand up and look down at your shoes (bend your neck all the way down).  Then without moving your head, move your eyes as far up as you can without causing them to actually roll any further than is natural.  Now imagine walking around and trying to carry on a full conversation in this way.  That’s what it’s like!  Often times these dreams are filled with what seems to be an overwhelming amount of sunlight – a good reason to prevent me from looking up.  But other times, I’m in “normal” light, and still can’t look up.  I know who I’m talking to, but I don’t know who I’m talking to.  And when it’s over, I usually wake up with a headache.

Two: The Secret Garden Dream

I both love and hate this dream.  I love it because it always takes place in what looks to be a massive, elegantly old, Southern mansion – Victorian Style.  I love Victorian Style.  The place is surrounded with greenery, and sits all alone on a plantation, which has fully blossomed in colors of red, pink, rose, and yellow.  This dream is also enjoyable because I’m on a search for this absolutely gorgeous in-home garden, located upstairs.  The problem is, I’m not actually allowed to see the garden, says the scary Southern woman who invites me in to her home.  It always begins in the same way: A Southern woman opens her front door and begins talking to me about afternoon tea – a clear distraction to keep me away from going up her marble-columned staircase.  She turns and walks down her dark hallway, still going on about tea, treats, and what so-and-so said the other day at breakfast.  I stop listening because my gaze is totally focused on the top of the winding staircase.  The woman disappears into the kitchen, and I make a silent run for it.  I speedily tip-toe all the way up to the top, and make a left.  There are rooms everywhere.  Each room begins with a pale white wooden door with a rusty knob.  Behind each door are rich, hand carved couches, chairs, armoires, and coffee tables; handmade rugs, plentiful amounts of fine china, and shades hanging from windows that only let a little sunshine peek through onto the floor.  Though dark, the rooms are still magnificent.  Then trouble strikes.  She knows I’m looking for the garden.  Luckily, each room is connected to the other, so I dart from room to room, hiding underneath beds, holding my breath up against walls, praying she doesn’t find me.  She never says one word the entire time she’s looking for me, though she does make quite a bit of racket with her heels.  I hate this dream because I always get very close to the garden, but very rarely do I sleep long enough to make it inside.  Since this dream began, I’ve made it into the garden twice, but have never had any time to admire it.  What does the garden look like then?  Imagine the most beautiful garden you’ve ever seen, then triple its looks.  That’s my secret garden.

Three: The Pregnancy Dream

It is beyond me why pregnancy has haunted my sleep for so many years, but it has – and always along the same story line:

Someone or something arrives to deliver the news “Holly, you’re going to have a baby”.  The catch is, I know I did nothing to.. er… become pregnant.  Because I know this, but no one else knows other than the person/creature who told me, I spend the rest of the dream frantically trying to decide how on earth I’m going to tell my family, and most especially my father, that I’m pregnant, but not guilty of the act of baby making.  It’s an extremely stressful dream.  My absolute favorite one though (yes, I do have a favorite), takes place in the driveway of my Georgia home.  I walk outside of the garage to find a black limo.  Its engine is off, and there’s no movement coming from inside.  I very slowly walk up to the passenger side window, and gasp at what I see.  Inside are two skeletons, a man skeleton and lady skeleton.  It appears that they have just been married since the man skeleton is wearing a tux, and the lady skeleton is wearing a wedding dress.  Both remain motionless and look forward as if I’m not there.  Then they both slowly look over at me, and the passenger window rolls down.  The man skeleton says, “Holly, we’ve been sent here to tell you that you are going to have a baby.  You’re pregnant”.  Naturally, I freak out.  ”What?  No I’m not.  I don’t even have a boyfriend!  I’m not married!  I haven’t done anything to become pregnant!”  The dream ends with them slowly backing out of my driveway, leaving me to ponder my fate.

Every time I have told this dream to somebody, the response is, “Oh so you have a Virgin Mary complex, hm?”

No.  I don’t.

Now I usually have a pregnancy dream (with someone other than skeletons informing me of my future child) every 6 to 8 months.  This last one (Monday) came right on schedule, only this one was completely different.  This time, I was already at the hospital, and it was a nurse who informed me of my pregnancy, which again was a complete surprise to me since my stomach looked like it always does, and I’ve been so good with taking my birth control every day.  The nurse took me into the delivery room, and the next thing I knew, I was holding a baby.  My baby.  A girl.  She looked just like I did as a baby, only smaller.  She had brown eyes, brown hair, the tiniest little nose… She was so cute!  And then I named her.  I named her the very name that Will and I have talked about when we we’ve come up with names before, and I shall not tell you this name because you might steal it!  (See: The Seven – Seinfeld)

After having the baby, I was apparently in great shape and allowed to go home that night.  Since no one knew I was pregnant, no one threw me a Baby Shower, meaning I had no carrier of any kind, so I took my baby home in a plastic tub, complete with a plastic handle.  I made it home, put the baby on our bed (in the center with squishy pillows), grabbed my phone and texted my boss saying, “Hey, you’ll never guess what happened to me!  I had a baby!  Is it okay if I don’t come to work for a little while?”, and went to find Will to let him know his newborn daughter was in our bedroom. 

Isn’t that wild??  I can’t stop thinking about it.  I HELD her and NAMED her.  And when I woke up the next morning, the first thing Will heard was, “I… I… I had… I had our baby…”

He was confused.

I also had to check the texts on my phone because I really thought I had sleep-texted my boss.

I don’t know what any of my dreams mean, why they follow me and keep me restless, or why they seem so real, but I certainly didn’t mind that last one (unless of course I have a boy first, then I will officially give up on trying to dissect the meaning of my dreams).

Happy dreaming!

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Author: Holly

Vienna-based American wife/mom/expat.

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