Ok, so, here's the thing. This blog has always been filled, since its inception, with absurdities from my life. When I lived at home it was filled with my little siblings, after I got married it was filled with my husband, and now it's filled with lots of pregnancy weirdness. I make no apologies.
I've always been a vivid dreamer. To this day I can still remember a few nightmares from my childhood that were very real to me and haunted me for months. Thankfully, as I got older I rarely had nightmares, but I still had dreams which often fooled me into believing that they were reality. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and roll over to look at my journal to make sure I wasn't operating under the assumption that something I dreamed had actually happened.
When I got pregnant my dreams became even MORE real. At first I only had pregnant nightmares, which were horrible. I think they were probably based in the huge amounts of fear I harbored during the first part of my pregnancy. But I've been letting go of those fears more and more lately and as I've done that I've found that I continue to have baby dreams - but now they are happy baby dreams. And what's more... some of the are totally hilarious.
A couple weeks ago I dreamt that I gave birth to a boy. He was chubby, naked and all blue (like all babies are when they first come out) and I birthed him standing up. His head was perfectly round. He started crying and we named him Gideon. And you know what - I actually felt the joy that I think most mothers talk about when they describe holding their baby for the first time. I woke up feeling really happy and excited and wanting to hold my baby RIGHT NOW. Also, I was convinced Baby Snider was a boy.
Then, last week, I had a hilarious dream. I dreamt that I gave birth, in a birth pool, in my grandmother's living room, to a girl this time. Except, instead of being a newborn, she was a year old and wearing a pink shirt and pink and green striped pants. And know what else? She was fully conversive. In fact, she told me, as she climbed out of the pool (perfectly dry) to play with some toy ponies on a chair, that she wished to be named Amy.
I told her no. "I don't feel like any of my children should be named 'Amy'." She just looked at me like my intelligence was very lacking, like I couldn't possibly be her mother because I wasn't smart enough. "But" I continued "You could be named Abigail and I could call you Abby. Would that be satisfactory?" She paused for a moment and then told me that yes, she thought that would be just fine and then she returned to her ponies and I went back to baking bread (in my grandmother's kitchen). Also, I woke up convinced Baby Snider was a girl.
Oh, God, you have made life beautiful with the ridiculous. I praise you for your care of my sense of humor!
Also, something that warmed my heart: Ellie informs me that Peter, my little brother-in-law prayed for me last night during family worship and he prayed "Dear God, please help Elisabeth's baby to come soon and help it not to hurt very much, Amen." Peter, from your mouth to God's ears.
I like the way those Snider boys pray.