To dream the impossible dream
I almost never remember my dreams. The rare times I do are usually when I'm really well-rested. Towards the end of the holiday break I had a doozy:
I'm pregnant again, not too far along, and I'm at the doctor's office. Suddenly the doctor tells me that I'm about to miscarry again and that the only way to possibly save the baby is to get it out RIGHT NOW. So she gives me a shot and then SLICES into my abdomen. I'm lying there thinking, "Please cry, please cry, please cry." No dice. I don't see the body, but the doctor tells me that it had two sets of arms, like one of those Hindu gods.
Then things got all crazy, as they often do in dreams, and I do get to see the fetus -- it looks like one of those vestigal twin tumors that get removed from people, all full of hair and teeth.
(I'll pause here while you yak discreetly into your cubicle's trashcan.)
So THEN they tell me that I'm going to miscarry every baby I ever conceive. Just in case you're rubbing your dry little hands together in glee, having psychoanalyzed my subconscious fears of having another miscarriage, go ahead and add BLAMING MYSELF to the mix, because THEN the doctor tells me that the reason I'm doomed for miscarriage after miscarriage is
BECAUSE I'M TOO FAT.
I'm pregnant again, not too far along, and I'm at the doctor's office. Suddenly the doctor tells me that I'm about to miscarry again and that the only way to possibly save the baby is to get it out RIGHT NOW. So she gives me a shot and then SLICES into my abdomen. I'm lying there thinking, "Please cry, please cry, please cry." No dice. I don't see the body, but the doctor tells me that it had two sets of arms, like one of those Hindu gods.
Then things got all crazy, as they often do in dreams, and I do get to see the fetus -- it looks like one of those vestigal twin tumors that get removed from people, all full of hair and teeth.
(I'll pause here while you yak discreetly into your cubicle's trashcan.)
So THEN they tell me that I'm going to miscarry every baby I ever conceive. Just in case you're rubbing your dry little hands together in glee, having psychoanalyzed my subconscious fears of having another miscarriage, go ahead and add BLAMING MYSELF to the mix, because THEN the doctor tells me that the reason I'm doomed for miscarriage after miscarriage is
BECAUSE I'M TOO FAT.
posted by Karo at 1/04/2005 09:42:00 AM
2 Comments:
You know, I once had a dream where I called my friend on a payphone and said, "What if I'm just a hack? What if I'm just not good enough to make it as a singer?" Gee, wonder what that dream was about?
Whaddya, kidding me? Ruminating Slav is itself a cavalier response to my LIFE, for god's sake. The more cavalier, the better!
Also, "Poster's Remorse" would be a good name for a blog.
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