Weird, weird dream last night/early this morning/sometime after potty break #2.
I'm in a place that I recognize as home, but it's not where I grew up. My mom is there, and for some reason when I get there, I'm told by dream extras that my baby is waiting for me, and that it's probably time to nurse. At some level, I do understand that I'm still pregnant.
I'm walking into the room where this baby is, and I look at my mom and ask her how this could be my baby, since I wasn't aware that the one that I am currently carrying is #3. She avoids the question (at least that part is true to life), and hands me a baby. Usually in my dreams I don't see distinct faces, but I usually sense who I am dealing with. In this instance, I can see the face of a six month old baby, that is a dead-ringer for Son, but that I also recognize as a girl. At that point, I accept that this is my child, but still question why I don't remember any of it.
We then flash to walking through the sacristy of the church on my college campus, and my mom confesses that the baby is hers (for some reason, she is in her mid 40s in this dream, even though she is now in her mid 50s now, but I'm the same age...oy). She was afraid to tell me that she had another baby. I ask her how, since I know that she had her tubes tied when I was a kid. No answer, then I woke up.
OK, now what the hell did that all mean? The gender issue doesn't surprise me-Husband has been insisting that this one is a girl, because, I kid you not, "you've been crazier with this one, and that's only possible if two women are involved." But the whole issue with my mom? You got me.
I remember thinking as a kid that my parent were still young even after my brother was born, so why didn't they have more? (My brother and I are six years apart, and after all of the begging that I did to get a sibling, I got a brother, when I specifically asked for a girl.) I also distinctly remember when I presume that my mom had her tubes tied. I was probably around 9, and everyone was rushing around cleaning up in preparation for mom to be out of commission. I knew that something big was up, but no one would tell me what was going on. I was scared, and sat in my room and cried. I also remember driving to the town where the hospital was to pick her up, and not being able to bring her home. I think that she had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, and bursting into tears, yelling at my Dad that yes, there was something very wrong, and why wouldn't he tell me anything?
I've been doing a lot of thinking about sibling relationships lately, so maybe that is the trigger. Maybe it was the snack of apple juice and Cheetos-I don't want to hear it, at least I ate something. Just very, very strange.