Positive News….

While this test may have come as a positive, I took another in the afternoon, and another the following day and the next and the next.

The line of positivity was increasingly dark. I was overwhelmingly elated, as was Billy… But for me the idea that this couldn’t be happening to me, that this joy wasn’t meant for me, sat in the back of my subconscious with overwhelming doom. During the day I could function and feel the joy, starting to share slowly with those closest to us… but at nights I was plagued by a variety of nightmares more vivid than ever before.

I’ve always been a vivid dreamer, or nightmarer I would say. Ever since I was a sleepwalking and talking child, my dream world has been the dominate amount of time I am trapped in, with my eyes shut. However, with pregnancy and trying to stifle thoughts of doom and panic that I couldn’t possibly actually be getting what I wanted, my nights became prisons of one panicked dream after another, if I could sleep at all.

New pajamas, bedtime teas, a great lavender oil, bedtime rituals of reading lovely poetry and cheerful literature, a nightly massage of lotion from Billy, nothing stopped the nightmares and the insomnia. Finally, cracking under the pressure of it all I bought a King sized bed, a large switch in size from the full we had previously shared, but I figured at least this way I could toss and turn (while I was still small enough to do so) without waking Billy every 5 minutes. It helped moderately, as did doctor confirmation again and again that the pregnancy was healthy.

Still at almost 18 weeks I sit up typing this at 4 in the morning, because I won’t risk going back to sleep after the vivid and detailed dream I have about a ghost from my wild past threatening and plotting to kill me. I spent too many hours of my night trapped in that place, and I would rather type on my couch until the sun rises and I can take Zia our dog for a long walk.

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