I've never really spent much time trying to understand my dreams or to analyze what they could be mean. Probably because most of the time I don't remember many details, and when I do, the dreams are very mundane and literal. I'll dream about work, or sometimes I'll sleep through my alarm and miss going swimming, because I've been dreaming about getting ready and driving to swimming. A few years ago, I had an exceptionally realistic dream.
That story actually starts in the time before I met Husband. I was out with a friend at a night club in London and it was my turn to get a round of drinks. Across the bar, I spotted a rather attractive man with dark hair. Our eyes locked and held a gaze for a few seconds. When I rejoined my friend, she was warding off some unwelcome male attention, so we decided to relocate to a different spot in the bar. Whilst in transit, I was approached by the handsome man I saw across the bar. My knees went weak the first time I heard him speak. He was a Kiwi. I've always had a particular affection for Australians, so New Zealand is just as close, and I'm not referring to geographic proximity. We began to chat and after a few minutes I noted that he was holding my hand. The attraction was quite intense and when he started to lead me to the dance floor, I willingly followed. An hour or so later, last call was announced. He leaned in and invited with his irresistible accent, "Do you fancy waking up in my arms tomorrow morning?"
It would have been my first (and perhaps only) one night stand. Although my loins were quivering, my pragmatic brain prevailed. He could be a serial killer, Jane. They'll find your mangled corpse in a dumpster and the police will have to tell your parents what a little slut you were. Or he could have herpes. 70% of transmission occurs during periods of asymptomatic viral shedding. An orgasm is temporary, but herpes are forever! Alas, I declined his very tempting offer. He did ask for my email address, and to my surprise there was a message in my inbox the next morning. We corresponded over email for a few weeks, and I didn't find any evidence that supported or refuted him being a serial killer. In fact he seemed like a pretty nice guy. I inquired and learnt that he had nine prior sexual partners (a respectable number for his age) and recently had a negative STI panel (although I didn't specifically ask if he had HSV1+2 antibody testing done). We shared the same grammatical pet peeves, and I am such a nerd that I found it quite hot. We discussed meeting up to consummate the primal desires which had commenced from the moment we first saw each other. I truly contemplated it, as I wondered if I could compound some Valtrex and slip it into his drink, but I think at that point I wanted something more than a fling and he was just looking for the lay that could get him into double figures. I also rationalised that the version of our passionate coitus that I carried in my head was probably much better than the reality. Thus, he became the best shag I wish I had.
A few years ago, I had a dream that I slept with him. It was very average. Much like in real life when the first encounter is accompanied by the slight awkwardness of wanting to impress the other person without seeming like you're trying too hard. Thus, even the manifestation of my overactive subconscious was a total buzz kill.
Anyway, I am digressing and indulging in a bit of nostalgia to illustrate that I have very boring, if not disappointing dreams. Earlier when I wasn't trying to conceive, I had some pregnancy scare dreams, although I knew that I had my IUD in place and needed to confirm that the pregnancy wasn't an ectopic. See what I mean about my dreams being so literal?
Prior to the scheduled date for my first scan and before I started bleeding, I had one relevant dream during my brief pregnancy. I was going in for my CD2 monitoring, but it was my Favourite MA who preformed the ultrasound. She just started giggling and said, "um, you're already pregnant" (which actually was true, as I was pregnant on the day of my first CD2 appointment for what would have been our first IUI cycle). She kept reiterating that she couldn't tell me any details, but I could see that there was a single viable fetus at approximately nine weeks. Myrtle laughed when I shared the dream with her as she noted that it was fitting that I would have such a clinically accurate dream, but she thought it was a good omen. She also added that in one of her dreams, I revealed that I was having a girl.
I didn't share it with Husband, but in the final nights of our last 2WW, I had kept seeing two lines on a pregnancy test in my dreams. Mind you, I don't remember any details, such as if it were specifically my pregnancy test, but over and over again, I saw a pink line and a blue line. Then in the final night, I was dreaming about beta numbers. When I went for my first draw after my BFP, I emailed the office with my LMP and conception dates and I projected my HCG levels would be between 175-200. It was 171. In this last dream, I was in the lab chatting with the same phlebotomist who did all my previous beta draws and I was guessing at my beta numbers with her. It seemed so vivid.
A few nights after I composed my post about taking one step at a time and not looking too far ahead, I dreamed that I was pregnant. It was the first time in any of my dreams that I actually had a bump and I could feel the baby move. I was also in quite a bit of pain, and I precipitously delivered the baby at home in my living room. Yet, two of my colleagues and a random paediatrician magically appeared, and just like on TV, one of them handed me a three month old baby - a girl. She had Husband's eyes and she was beautiful. Then I woke up.