The last two nights, I have dreamed that I was pregnant. I
have no idea why. At this time, I cannot tell you anything about my dreams
because they are long gone, but I do remember that I was pregnant. The kicker
is that when I awoke this morning, I was actually convinced I was pregnant. I
was on the phone with my mom and she asked if there was anything new. I
LITERALLY almost blurted out, without thinking, “Yeah, I’m pregnant.” Thank God
I stopped myself! I, instead, had a mini-conversation with myself wondering,
“Am I pregnant?” Pause. “No…I don’t think I am.” Pause. “Am I?...No. No, I am
not pregnant. Stupid realistic dream.”
I have to think that my surroundings have influenced my
dream patterns because I really don’t think that there is any type of ticking
clock inside of me right now. At this point in my life, I don’t think toddlers
are cute – I get annoyed by them. Did you read about my experience at Starbucks
the other day? O.K. toddlers in pictures are cute - I just don't want to be near them right now.
Maybe my dreams were infiltrated by my not-really-obsession-but-major-affection-for-and-love-of
Giuliana and Bill, who have been
trying to get pregnant for years. Maybe it’s because I have two friends trying
to get pregnant now. Maybe it’s because people at the RDA are pregnant.
Maybe my dreams were infiltrated by the hundreds of pregnant
women surrounding me on this island. I have never in my life seen more pregnant
women in one place. And, bonus, even the pregnant women are skinnier than your
average American. O.K., the average American woman according to a 2002 report
is 164 pounds (more than 73 kilos) so I am going to put money down that my previous
statement is accurate.
Maybe my dreams were infiltrated by the books I have been
reading. When I was in Bali , I read a book all
about the first few years of parenting. This week I read a book by comedian
Rachel Dratch and at least a third of the book was about her pregnancy.
O.K. I may be seeing a trend here. This may be my own fault.
I need to get out of baby land. What’s next?
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