I dreamt last night that I was rushed to hospital after an arson incident and gave birth very stressfully within an hour. I didn’t care what was done to get the baby out and was alone.
Then I texted Laurence to tell him that he had a son – a surprise.
Nothing had turned out as expected or hoped except that our baby was safe. When I woke up, I realised that that essentially is all I care about. I just want to meet our baby and know that she is safe.
I’ve been getting hung up on my lack of control lately. I really thought for some reason or other that the creature would come early – not sure why. The due date was yesterday, so that’s not happened.
I’ve had false labour (we’re talking regular contractions with increasing intensity when I change positions or walk about, usually for hours) almost every night for the past week.
And a couple of days ago my uterus started pinching a nerve that’s sending shooting pains down one of my legs. All in all, I’ve had to accept that I’m not in charge of what my body does or when this baby comes.
But the dream reminds me that none of this ultimately matters. I don’t have to know all the whens, whats and hows.
And I don’t have to get stressed when people ask me if the baby’s come yet or whether I’ve been getting pains. If I do, I can put it down to hormones and move on, happily looking forward to putting a baby on my boob.
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