I've always been a dreamer. I'm one of those people that always remembers what they dream. Last night for instance, I had a caramel macchiato before bed and forgot to say decaf, and I dreamed that I, along with some of our friends, were kidnapped and taken to a spaceship that was manned by a cult leader. We were there for seven or eight months before the UN came in with huge planes, landed on our spaceship and saved us. The cult leader fled in terror and somehow escaped to the vast reaches of outer space. Drat.
The other night though I had another one of those incredibly real dreams. I dreamed that I was walking around this big house and there were people everywhere, and I was so incredibly tired. I had a tiny little bundle in my arms and everyone was asking me a million questions and some woman kept coming after me with little knitted sleepers and socks and hats and blankets. She had a whole book of things she'd made for me, pink dresses and little blue pajamas and now I had to pick which I wanted. I finally ran upstairs to a bedroom and my bed was there, and my mom and sister came in and sat on my bed. My tiny little bundle started moving in my arms, and I pulled up my big comforter over us so I could nurse and I finally looked down at him. There was this beautiful tiny little boy in my arms and he was in this soft little blue sleeper. I couldn't see his face because it was turned into me but he had all this dark soft hair. He started to fuss because he was hungry and I began to feed him, and when I felt him calm down, I felt the most incredible sensation of love and wonder and a million other feelings. When I think about it, I can feel him laying in my arms, with my arm tucked around him and his teeny baby feet in my hand. I can hear the little sighing sounds he made. That's what I remember, being tucked under the blanket with him, and all the world fading away while I held my little boy. It was amazing and I woke up with the same sweet feeling. Dying to fall back asleep and keep dreaming about that little baby boy.
The funny thing is that I never really loved the idea of nursing. I know - that makes me a strange and bad woman, but I just couldn't wrap my head around it. Some women say it's so wonderful and others don't seem to love it, and say they start to feel like a dairy cow after a while. I always figured I'd identify with the latter group. But this felt amazing. It felt like the most natural and wonderful thing in the world. Strange right?
The funny thing is, since that dream, I can't stop thinking that I'm having a little boy. The other day I was so tired and ran myself a scalding hot bath. The minute I was in, all I could think about was all the warnings about hot baths and early pregnancy, and that maybe this wasn't that great an idea. I said to Peter "I should be more careful. Poor baby Gabe is just a little speck of a thing, and he's much too tiny for such a hot bath." Peter just smiled, and I ran some cold water into my tub, washed my hair and hopped out. He keeps trying to convince me that a.) I'm possibly not even pregnant yet and b.) that it may be a baby Bella just as easily. I shouldn't get attached to the idea of a boy - especially since we won't find out for months if I'm right. The thing is, I won't be sad at all if I find out that I'm having a girl first, but I just don't feel like it's going to go that way. We'll see, I guess. I hate second guessing every little thing I feel, but I have been feeling very strange this past week. I'm nearly always nauseated, not enough to get sick (which in itself is weird - I always get sick), but just enough to constantly feel a little off. And for the last four days or so, I want to take a nap right around four o'clock. I just become completely exhausted in the middle of the afternoon, which is very, very unlike me. I guess we'll know soon enough. For now maybe the nausea will subside long enough to take an afternoon nap and dream of a sweet baby in a blue sleeper.
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