For the most part I wake up from a dream feeling either momentary confusion as I acclimate to the light, or relief that I was only envisioning the ridiculous tableau of jealous former flames or dangerous alien menace that had displayed so vividly across my subconscious only minutes before. As I regain my bearings, I curl up into the curve of my sweetheart’s arm and he squeezes the hand that I slip gently under his fingers to reassure me that his presence is every bit as real as it feels.
The other morning, however, in a shocking moment of biological clock tickage, I woke up after a graphic dream feeling…disappointed. I had been lying on the tissue-coated plastic of a doctor’s examination table, gelatinous fluid on my exposed belly, staring at my tiny likeness on an ultrasound screen; a smiling head of curls. But when I opened my eyes it was only my sweetheart who lay beside me, no little one in brew.
With less than three months to go until I marry my perfect match, I’m not surprised that my subliminal imagination is running rampant. In the 30 years since I emerged from my mother’s womb I have always known what I’ve wanted. The overwhelming thing is, those feeble figments of desire are now my life.
For a brief moment, I experienced the same elation that I’m going to feel when I enter the gates of motherhood. I’m not racing to that finish line, I’ve spent 30 years weed whacking my way through to the ideal paternal candidate and I am savouring every breath-taking minute of our courtship. The disappointment I incurred in the sunrise following my dream was simply a side effect of detoxification. When I do reach that milestone, motherhood is going to be the high I will never come down from.
**May I also extend heartfelt congratulations to my dear friend Ted whose beautiful baby girl was born the very hour of said reverie.
The other morning, however, in a shocking moment of biological clock tickage, I woke up after a graphic dream feeling…disappointed. I had been lying on the tissue-coated plastic of a doctor’s examination table, gelatinous fluid on my exposed belly, staring at my tiny likeness on an ultrasound screen; a smiling head of curls. But when I opened my eyes it was only my sweetheart who lay beside me, no little one in brew.
With less than three months to go until I marry my perfect match, I’m not surprised that my subliminal imagination is running rampant. In the 30 years since I emerged from my mother’s womb I have always known what I’ve wanted. The overwhelming thing is, those feeble figments of desire are now my life.
For a brief moment, I experienced the same elation that I’m going to feel when I enter the gates of motherhood. I’m not racing to that finish line, I’ve spent 30 years weed whacking my way through to the ideal paternal candidate and I am savouring every breath-taking minute of our courtship. The disappointment I incurred in the sunrise following my dream was simply a side effect of detoxification. When I do reach that milestone, motherhood is going to be the high I will never come down from.
**May I also extend heartfelt congratulations to my dear friend Ted whose beautiful baby girl was born the very hour of said reverie.
2 comments:
...motherhood is going to be the high I will never come down from.
((evil laughter))mmmwwaaahahahahahhahahahaa...!
Oh, yeah...that was your future baby laughing, not me.
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