I get the craziest dreams when I’m pregnant, and usually in the last trimester. I can’t say why this is so, maybe It’s my mommy bear instinct going into hyperdrive. So there’s this level of crazy dreams which hangs around in the vicinity of mildly bizarre and this other level that’s way deep into crazy dream town. And in the land of #crazydreamtown, I think this one takes the cake.
Want to hear it? Of course you don’t. But I feel like I need to talk about it; it’s part of my process to come to terms with what my subconscious has done to me so here goes.
I was watching Mean Girls with the husband the other night which led to a conversation about Tina Fey and how she got slashed as a kid. I then spent the next hour or so reading about her horrific experience feeling truly sick in the gut. (note to self: DON’T READ ABOUT KID SLASHING ATTACKS AT NIGHT. OR EVER.)
On retrospect, the crazy dream was like me asking for it but even so, I need to have a word with my dream machine about compartmentalisation.
Later that night, I went to bed and dreamt that Truett got slashed in a back alley somewhere and by the time I got there, he was already gone. I held him in my arms feeling the weight of every bad feeling that existed int he world, plus a little bit more.
That was the single most helpless, terrifying, awful feeling I’ve ever had up to this point in my life and in the dream, I pretty much lost it. I went total batshitcrazy until I woke up, whereupon I discovered that it was all just a dream. Oh, the sweet, sweet relief of finding out it wasn’t real? I just sat there on the bed trying to wrap my brain around it before running into Tru’s room to hold him just to be sure.
You’d think that was the end of it but no. So that was like 4 in the morning and I went back to bed in the aftermath of a crazy dream…only to continue an even crazier dream. This time, it was like a reenactment of the first dream, except I managed to get there in time before Tru got slashed and I was like “RUN, TRU, RUN!! GET OUT OF HERE NOWWWW GO GO GO!!!!!” But obviously the slasher still needed someone to slash right, so I guess it had to be me since being heavily pregnant puts some severe restrictions on my mobility and speed. I got slashed pretty bad but I knew I couldn’t die because then Theo wouldn’t make it. In my dream, I actually willed myself to survive until the husband got there and he was all “OMG hang in there babe, I’m getting the ambulance” and I said “There’s no time, you have to get the baby out NOW, just do it, if not he’s not going to make it” and he was like “Are you crazy? I’m not performing a c-section on you here or anywhere ever” and I started yelling “DON’T BE SUCH A BABY, JUST DO IT NOW! OR GIVE ME A SHARP OBJECT AND I’LL DO IT MYSELF!!”
Turns out that was the point where I woke up (thank you, subconscious!) and I didn’t have to perform a c-section on myself without anesthesia.
I woke up the husband and told him about the dream and he started laughing his head off. “Knowing you, give it another 15 minutes in the dream and you’d probably have done it yourself,” was all he said.
He’s right, I would totally have done it in real life (or at least died trying, quite literally), which is possibly the craziest part of all this.
Also, Truett got extra hugs for the rest of the day, which he thought was cool. He doesn’t know why though.