“What matters one lost vision of the night? Let the dream go! …”

8 Apr

I dream that I’m pregnant.

Full to the brim, almost there, ready to go. Thar she blows. I look down at my hands on my taunt round belly, the belly I never had, or maybe I did, it was just buried underneath all the fat that my genetics and my lifestyle gathers to it. But in this dream it’s the butter perfect uterus, protruding, accusing almost.

We argue my husband and I, about going to the birth, or how I’ll give birth. In the dream something is wrong, certainly wrong about this birth, we’re angry, and sad and oh so sick of it. We’re tired, and in the dream we stare past each other, looking for answers.

 

*******************************

I’m not pregnant, unless you count the pregnant pause while I cram another sesame rice cake in my mouth (OMFG! Have you tried these?!?! NOM NOM NOM) I will never be pregnant again, aside from the slim, better chance of winning the lottery and getting run over by a circus train on the same day chance.

But my body gets it now. I get your lusts, your cravings for children, the emptiness in your belly, the want. I never did. Not as a teenager, not as a young woman. I never once felt a twinge in an ovary. I never dreamed of having children, or at least, I never dreamed of having babies. I recognized the sacrifice, and was content to live in my own little world of childfree. I stared dumbfounded at people who tried to get pregnant, on purpose! I scratched my head at people trying round after round of IVF, questioning why adopting was so not an option, wondering why they couldn’t accept that maybe, they weren’t meant to have babies in the first place.

I seize up looking at the prices of baby things, wondering how anyone could do it, why anyone wanted to do it.

But I get it now.

I woke up this morning, my hands rushing to my belly. Squishy, jiggly, not taunt and ready. There is no new life inside of my, no feet kicking me, no little hands pressing up against my side. I am empty, a vessel used and discarded. I will never grow a new life inside of me again.

I mourn this now, the thing I never wanted or appreciated in the first place. What better gift? What better talent than to grow life! How can a woman not feel superior when we create and sustain and deliver new life! But I can’t use it-I can’t even act as another’s womb without chancing my own life. My days as a mother, as a life giver, these are done with. It’s frustrating and sad and unfair that only now do I realize what I had, what I could do, what I did. What magic power I held in me.

I awoke feeling those phantom kicks, those hiccups, those dandelions and butterflies inside of me. I awoke feeling full of life, full of tomorrows and hopes and sunlight.

But the dream burned off, like frost as the day dragged itself across me. And so it goes.

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7 Responses to ““What matters one lost vision of the night? Let the dream go! …””

  1. bine April 8, 2008 at 11:40 am #

    that is funny. i dreamed being pregnant a few nights back – at that same stage, almost ready, but something is not right. sounds like the same dream. and i have never even been pregnant, so i have no experiences to dream on.
    maybe it’s that silly clock ticking off its last minutes. maybe it’s the feeling i missed something important in my life. but at no point in my life would this have been a good decision.

  2. bromac April 8, 2008 at 1:48 pm #

    Can I ask…..why? Did you get a tubal ligation? Did something go wrong?

    I’m sorry that you get it……now. But don’t mourn completely, b/cyou have grown and sustained life. You have achieved what most consider the greatest achievement of a woman. And you’ve done it twice.

  3. Judy April 8, 2008 at 1:55 pm #

    I just found out a good friend is pregnant again, when I thought they were trying NOT to get pg yet. They’re very excited. And as my husband was telling me this news, he asked when I thought I might be ready to have another one. I poured myself a cocktail and took a long drink, took a drag off a cigarette (I smoke a few occasionally), and told him it would be awhile, and I don’t envy our friend at all.

    There are things about being pregnant I enjoy – feeling the little kicks and somersaults inside me, mostly – but I’m not one who enjoys being pregnant. I resent all the things I have to give up, and all the things I don’t feel strong enough, or energetic enough , or well enough to do.

    At the same time, the thought of never carrying a child again is very scary to me – maybe I just associate it with growing old and my own mortality. But I AM certain I will have another baby, and I’d like to do so before my husband turns 50 (he will be 47 this year), so it will be fairly soon.

    I have always known I would have children, although after my first I wasn’t entirely sure I would have another (I knew I definitely didn’t want more with my ex!).

  4. thordora April 8, 2008 at 1:55 pm #

    I went completely bat shit at the end of my last pregnancy, and we decided I’d have a tubal. If I didn’t have bipolar, I’d be a surrogate in a heartbeat-I know so many people personally that I’d love to carry a child for.

    The hemorrhaging after birth can’t be healthy either I figure, but it’s mostly the batshit crazy thing that scared me. One more kid would have driven me completely over the edge, instead of half way.

  5. daisybones April 8, 2008 at 4:27 pm #

    This weekend, I folded a small hoody sweater that Molly has outgrown that has been at the bottom of the laundry pile. Burst into tears.

    Had a random vivid memory of the feeling of being kicked from the inside while I was driving yesterday. Tears, again.

    *Sigh* I’m ovulating. The intensity of this will pass, and my brain is much more ambivalent, but in my uterus or soul or subconscious, I am filled with wanting.

  6. Judy April 8, 2008 at 8:11 pm #

    When/if I get pregnant again, I will be watching very closely from early on to try to ward off any depression/anxiety/crazy like I had with my last pg and in the postpartum period. I’m also going to be much more assertive about making sure my most basic NEEDS are met – I lose my mind if I am sleep-deprived, and I’m sure that was a huge contributor the last time around. I think I understand and know the causes better now, so I’ll be able to fight it, or at least be more aware of it.

    Also, hopefully, barring any weird things going on, we won’t be moving clear across the country with a newborn again. (When my Guthrie was about 3 months old we moved into a house we had bought, which needed major renovations. Then when I was pg with Turner, my husband got a different job, and we moved here when he was 6 weeks old! NOT a good idea.)

    I had friends, a gay couple, who talked about how they wanted a baby but knew it would be hard to adopt. I totally would have been a surrogate for them. Although, honestly, one of them was so hot (looking back on it, they both were really), I would have wanted to conceive naturally. 😛

  7. Gwen April 8, 2008 at 11:34 pm #

    Oh, see, I am far less enamored of pregnancy now than ever before. I was at a children’s museum today surrounded by women with child, and I just thought how awful and alien it all was.

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