A Peek at my Subconscious

Wow.  This doesn’t happen very often.  I’m in a blogging slump.  Those of you who read me every day know that I’m never without something to talk (or whine) about.  In fact, I can usually write at length about absolutely nothing.  See, college did teach me something.

But I’m scrounging for topics that I deem blog-worthy.  Be glad that I’m at least somewhat selective, otherwise I’d bore you to tears.  So how about a quick peek into my subconscious for today?  I’m a little worried about mentioning this, as I have yet to determine exactly what it means, but here goes anyway–me opening myself up for scrutiny.

Early this morning I had one of those dreams that you can’t forget easily.  I was in the hospital, apparently post-partum.  My room was large, split into two parts, and the other half housed a baby in an incubator.  I eventually determined that their post-partum nurses doubled as NICU nurses, so to make things easier on them (I’m not sure how this would be easier), they doubled up a recovering mother with a sick baby in each room.  The baby was not mine, but a twin belonging to one of my friend’s friends.  Because of that, I was allowed to peek in on the baby, and they weren’t as careful to hide the baby’s condition from me.  Apparently it had hearing issues and that was the main reason it needed special care.

After being there for a few days, I was released.  One of the nurses was walking us out to our car when she finally mentioned my baby.  It wasn’t until that point that it dawned on me that I hadn’t even seen my third son yet.  I finally thought to question why and to demand that I see my baby and take him home with me.  M and I were discussing the injustice while she took a quick phone call, then she turned to us and told us she had some bad news.  Our baby had just had a 911 page, as she put it, which was apparently the accepted hospital term for basically a code blue elsewhere.  I screamed in massive pain (although I hadn’t even thought about him until this point) and collapsed to the ground in the parking lot.  She quickly explained that he’d been saved, but she wasn’t giving us any hope whatsoever that it wouldn’t happen again.  I was dumbfounded, as he had been born full-term and healthy and had no reason to be in the NICU at all, much less on the verge of death.

And that’s when I woke up.  I was able to return to reality pretty quickly, considering the intensity of the dream, with no lingering grief like I would expect.  I never did find out what happened, though, and I very much dislike it when my dreams leave loose ends like that.

So now that I’m analyzing it, I’m guessing that most of the dream comes from the situation with my SIL.  What do you guys think?  Will you play shrink for me today and give me your oh-so-informed opinions?  Hey, it makes for an interesting game anyway.

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One Response to A Peek at my Subconscious

  1. erica says:

    Sounds like the stress of everything with your SIL is making you remember how you felt with PJ.Its funny how our dreams do that to us…Another son huh?

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