The Pregnant Life: Dream On

Amy Keyishian
And it turned out ... it was all a dream
I had myself a classic pregnancy dream: I was flirting with a guy and finding myself failing miserably. None of my usual tactics were working -- what was I doing wrong? Suddenly I realized I (a) am pregnant and (b) wear a wedding ring, both of which rendered me invisible, sexually. I was simultaneously bummed and horrified at myself. Then I woke up! And added very guilty to the mix.

Why am I having this dream now? That's such a first-baby dream. My sister refers to the process of packing away your single self as "killing the maiden." That is, as you fully emotionally commit to this thing you're doing -- renting your body out to a very uncomfortable tenant, making a transition from party-girl to mom, coming to the slow realization that it'll be years before you do Sunday brunch again -- you have moments of temper-tantrum. Then the baby comes, and you just -- do what you gotta do.

But by the time Kid #2 rolls around, this process should be done, no? Or am I twice as worried about my sexual attraction now that I have twice as many kids? Or is this just a reaction to the long slow horror of pelvic rest?

(Pelvic rest: It makes me cranky. It makes me snap at people. It makes me cry when I find pictures of me and my husband looking giddy with sexual heat. Oh, pelvic rest, you had better be worth it.)

I had my biweekly ultrasound today. I'm looking so good, the nurse/ultrasound tech wondered aloud why I was even there. I did feel a little silly, but when Dr. Curly came in, I felt less so. I mentioned some pain I'd been having that went away. "You should have come in," he said. "Now is the time to have a false alarm. We really don't want babies born at 26 weeks. I'd love to see you if you have the slightest worry." Jeez, way to make me remember my flirty dream self, Curly. Mind if I wipe this goo off my stomach and put my pants on now?

(Did I not mention it's double-entendre day at le blog?)

We're coming dangerously close to moving day, and I just think I need to not be on the premises. I'm so worried we'll go over time, over budget, that we'll never dig out, that my ukulele will get smushed. My husband and I debated what I should do: Park Penelope at a friend's house and stay to help? What on earth could I actually help with? We debated what I should do. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Do you want me here so you can ask me where stuff goes?"
Him: "I dunno, maybe."
Me: "I'm not sure I can do much of anything besides wave my hands around and fret."
Silence as he visualises this and realizes it's horribly true and truly horrible.
Him: "You should give your sister a call and see if you can hang out there. All day."

So now I know how to get him to make a decisive judgment.

Next time you hear from me, blog-wise, I'll be in the new place ... wish me luck!

What are your pregnancy dreams like?

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