In the last two weeks, I’ve had five dreams that I was pregnant. J has had one.
In two of them, I miscarried, often in very strange and unusual circumstances. For instance, in the church lobby, while I was lying on a cot. (What?)
Now, believe me. At cycle day 50-something, I’ve taken my fair share of tests to make sure that these dreams aren’t any sort of hint that my body’s giving me, alerting me of some alien intruder in my uterus. No, I’m fairly sure these dreams come on the heels of nights spent agonizing over WHAT THE HECK my body is doing. And I’m sure the thousands of Facebook posts of friends’ new bumps and babies aren’t helping.
But what’s interesting about all of these pregnant dreams is something a good friend once told me. I value her input incredibly – she is wise, and gracious, and often has insight into things that I miss completely.
She told me that dreams of pregnancy, often when they recur frequently, are a sign of something new about to start. It might not be a literal birth, but it will often coincide with the birth of a new thing. A new job, a new home, a new opportunity.
I’m not saying that I chalk all of these dreams up to something new about to happen in our lives (though there is something new possibly in the works, that I’m forbidden to talk about or think about too much), because I know that falling asleep with dreams of babies in your head will most likely equal dreams about HAVING babies.
But its something to think about, you know?
What do you think about dreams and their significance? Is there any significance, or does it relate directly to the brownies and icecream you’ve eaten while dozing off?