Sunday night I dreamed I was pregnant. I used to have pregnancy dreams all the time while we were trying to conceive and while I was actually pregnant but honestly, since the birth of my daughter, I haven’t dreamed of being pregnant at all. So I was a little confused, in the dream and as I was watching the dream.
You see, I know I am dreaming about 90% of the time. It is surreal to be a character and a viewer at the same time, but I have always dreamed this way it seems.
I was pregnant and far along. Everyone was happy for me. Happy about the baby. My family. My friends. And I wasn’t married. There was no man around. At some point in the dream I am at home with all my family, extended plus my own child and I am suddenly aware that someone is trying to break into the house.
I rush around securing doors and windows and then suddenly realize the basement door isn’t locked and I have this feeling that “he” is down there and heading up the stairs. I run to lock the door and am struck by the fact that it is not my actual basement door (which has no lock) but the door that leads to my parents’ basement. The basement of my childhood.
As I reach to lock the door, it starts to open and I push on it to close it, but not very hard because I know I can’t keep the man from coming up the stairs. He steps out. He is tall. Dressed well. He says, “You know you can’t stop me.” And I am afraid but not enough to run or scream and at this point I wake up.
I am aware that I was dreaming but irrationally want to get up to check the doors downstairs. I don’t and fall back to sleep quickly.
Monday night I actually have a sequel dream. I don’t know what happened with the man from the basement. I am fine. I’ve had my baby and I am carrying him around. I never actually see the baby. He is swaddled in blankets with his face hidden but I can feel him. And I know it is a boy.
It’s winter. We are all going to church. I think it is the baby’s baptism. The way to the church leads us through the neighborhood where my husband and I first lived together. Before he got sick. The snow is crisp and very white. It feels as though we are trying to get to the church before something can stop us. I don’t feel afraid though.
The church is set up like an outdoor theater. There are no walls, only and altar with pews all around. The aisles are snow-covered. I hand the baby to my mother and at that moment I see a wolf off to the left. I race towards it. I am unclear why. I think I am trying to ward it away from my family, especially the baby.
It attacks me. Takes bloody chunks out of my left forearm and my hand near the thumb. It really hurts and I wake up and never really go back to sleep though I am not at all afraid.
I am not an interpreter of dreams. I know that pregnancy sometimes symbolizes new beginnings as do babies. Houses represent a person’s physical self and basements the sub/unconscious mind. Intruders represent danger and a fear of being violated.
I wouldn’t bother to write this down because I am a vivid dreamer and usually when I am trying to tell myself something in a dream, I am not so vague because frankly, I don’t do subtle well on either end – sending or receiving. But the fact that I dreamed a two-parter, two nights in a row, must mean something.
Feel free to offer opinions, those few of you who read here.