The first dream is a recurring one. In it I walk down the hallway into our kitchen and I see a child on the floor. He's about 18 months old or so. For some reason, he's under the table behind one of the kitchen chairs. I can picture him so clearly. He's got chubby cheeks and dark curly hair. He's got light olive skin and his cheeks are a little pink. I know somehow that he really needs me so I bend down to pick him up, but I only grab empty air. I look and he's on the other side of the table under another chair now. I walk around to that chair and bend to scoop him up and he's gone again. I see him across the table and go over there. . .and it just continues like that until I wake up in a total panic because I just can't get to him. I've named this one The Baby Beyond My Reach.
The second dream is newer and much worse. In it DH is there and we're in the spare bedroom, aka the someday-baby's room, aka my injection center. I'm stressing out about my IVF cycle and checking on my meds. For some reason I'm obsessively counting and recounting the vials, pens, and syringes. Over and over I start to count them, but then I lose count and need to start again. DH is stressing with me (something he never does in real life).
Suddenly I panic and run downstairs. I remember that we already have a child about whom I'd completely forgot. We had adopted him from Vietnam. I find him lying on the bathroom floor. I think his diaper needs to be changed because he's wet and then I see that he's actually lying in a big puddle of water. There's water rushing in through the basement walls, beginning to flood the room. I pick him up and dash upstairs.
The baby is weak and not moving much. I realize that we haven't fed him in a long time because we've been spending so much time thinking about our IVF. He'd just been lying there in the basement. Again, I feel panic and think we've killed him. I want to feed him but I just can't remember what babies eat. Finally, I find some food that seems right. I feed him and he looks better.
Right then I leave for New York City for a conference. I go and have fun, forgetting all about the baby. Then every once in a while, while I'm at a bar or having dinner, I'm seized by anxiety. I remember about the baby and need to find a phone to call DH to remind him to feed the little guy. Of course, there's no phone to be had every time and I'm a wreck. Usually I wake up when I'm searching for the phone. I've named this one Out of Sight, Out of Mind.
Can anyone say anxiety? And I'm not even on meds yet. As a preemptive measure, I think I'd better start listening to my relaxation CD twice a day. What do you think?