Pregnant dreamscape

One of the lesser known facts about pregnancy is the fact that weird dreams happen. As a non-pregnant person, my fertile imagination already gave rise to very colourful, vivid and occasionally weird or angsty dreams. It has led Packrat to declare, on more occasion than once, that I am crazy.

The dreams have dwindled though. Possibly because I'm so exhausted every night and I don't get a full night's sleep. It's hard for the subconscious to come up with something ludicrous when it's worn itself out and has shut down for the evening. And with the number of 'start-stop' sleep intervals, it is hard to remember anything that has happened, both in reality as well as in my dreamscape.

Last night however, was an aberration. Not only did I have a weird dream, I had TWO baby-related weird dreams all this while waking up to cover Evan's ears because he was afraid of the thunder.

Weird Dream No. 1.
We had twins. Again! And we were only finding out now at 4 months. The doctor didn't know where the other one came from but it was there, as big as the original foetus that we knew was gestating. That was when, in my dream, I started to panic. Where were we going to find the money to support another set of twins? Was my confinement nanny who claims to be a little bit traumatised by looking after the twins at the beginning going to bail at the thought of another set of twins? HOW??? I was a headless chicken, running around looking for answers that no one could give me. And I obviously wasn't as chuffed as I was the first time I heard I was expecting twins.

Weird Dream No 2.
This comes from the conversation I had with my mum yesterday about not knowing if I was carrying a boy or a girl. Anyway, this time, I was pregnant, with just one baby. Then I sneezed and all of a sudden, I had a little baby who, upon closer inspection by Packrat was a boy baby. Miraculously, this baby was born sans gunk and blood. Perhaps the rapid action of the sneeze set him shooting out and leaving all the gunk behind. Anyway, he was a tiny baby and I knew he wasn't full term. So, we needed to get him to a hospital and because he was so tiny, I thought better put him somewhere safe lest I crush him. And the wee little baby fit into one of those plastic boxes that bakeries use to sell packs of 3-4 muffins. So, my little Muffin was the size of 3-4 regular sized muffins.

I don't know which one is weirder and which one is actually more scary. The thought of having another set of twins or the thought of having a premature baby. I think it's a fair toss up.


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