thilly thenny

I woke up this morning not being able to tell if the almighty “fate” is trying to say something to me or if my body’s just frustrated by a lack of settling someone down.

Let me explain.   The alarm sounded at 7, which it always does because I like waking up @ several intervals before I finally get up; it’s like I get to treat myself to over an hour of snoozing…  I went back to sleep, and this is the dream I had:

I’m with my parents.  I don’t remember anything about the surroundings, except that things are grey and we’re kind of hiding out somewhere.  (My dreams are like the memory eraser from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind; every time I wake up, details of the dream seem to fade from the corners inward.)  I’ve been having my period but for some reason, I realize that I’m pregnant.  Because we were hiding or staying inside, they ushered me to my room, saying it’s okay; I can always deliver the baby later.

So I go into my room and realize… um… the baby’s not going to wait.  So what do I do?  I position myself at the edge of the chair, making it easier for me to see and grab the child coming out.  Then, because I’m so ecstatically smart, I grab an empy trash can.  Apparently, my mind thought that in case the baby fell, I’d rather have it fall in a trash can than on the floor.

(Apologies for the graphic nature of the following description… but you have to think, I actually dreamed this shit was happening to me.  CREEPY.)

Something was coming out my jooja.  I instinctively reach out to cup it, in case it’s a baby.  It slips into the trash can and lands with a plop.  I think I actually lurched in my sleep, I was so terrified that I’d just dropped a freakin’ child.  My freakin’ child.  Instead, it’s a bunch of masks.  They’re rubbery and soggy from some biological fluid.  I have no idea how they got there, except that one of the masks look like someone’s disguise from a previous part of the dream that I’ve now forgotten.  (If you’re totally fucking lost, that’s pretty much how I feel right now.)

I lean back onto the chair for a moment to breathe.  I don’t feel anything at all.  It’s like I’m floating above myself but I’m seeing through my own eyes.  Unexpectedly, I feel something emerge.  There’s a globular brown shape with tiny bits of hair.  Reaching with my left hand, I slip the baby out without any problem or pain.  My anticipated reaction is that I want to hold the baby and coo.  Then, I notice that the baby looks like Shinchan, who’s a Japanese cartoon character.

Imagine that naked, half Chinese-half black thing looking up at you.  It wasn’t pretty.  My immediate reaction was distaste.  Any emotions I thought I’d have towards my own baby was completely gone.  Yet, I felt guilty for not loving it despite how it looked… err he… he looked.  There’s a fake, silicon texture to his skin.  He didn’t look at all like the amazingly beautiful baby that boy and I were going to have.  Then, I notice he’s not crying.  The umbilical chord was attached to his right eyes instead of his belly button.  I gently pull it out.  He stops breathing.  I start panicking.  My dad comes into the room.  He’s disappointed that I’m having a baby randomly and completely unattached to anyone.  I’m crying for him to help.  He sets the baby on a table and tries to give him CPR.  Then, I wake up.

.

It’s a traumatizing mix of emotions to experience (without the pain and effort) giving birth, being a superficial bitch who doesn’t want an ugly baby, and feeling remorseful when the baby stops breathing and dies all in the span of 1 hour.  On one hand, my biological clock clearly wants a baby.  Maybe fate’s telling me that I’m about to have one (?). But the baby dies.  So does that mean I should really ignore my instincts to nest, or that boy is really not the right man for me?

Fucking subconscious.  I can’t read minds.  Just write me a note or something.