I never dream. At least I very rarely remember them.
I had a bad dream while on vacation. I found myself pregnant with no husband, no boyfriend. There was no decision to be made. I didn’t stress over whether or not to have it. I was having this child.
I was engrossed in work as always. The story of my life. When I think of my future, I see myself slumped over a laptop, working away. It was the same in my dream. I had a great deal of responsibility. My co-workers counted on me. My company needed me.
I called my sister. “Tree, do you think you could take care of my baby during the day? Don’t worry, I’ll pay you.” She graciously agreed. It was a fine arrangement. I dropped my baby boy off at my sister’s everyday before work. As a good mother herself, she made a great caretaker. I didn’t have anything to worry about until my baby started crying everytime I came to take him home.
“NNNOOOOOO!!!” He would scream and start bawling. He’d kick and shove me away. “NO!”
I felt horrible. My sister comforted me. “I think he’s just used to being here. Don’t worry. It’ll be ok. He’ll stop acting up once you get him home.”
The sequence of events in my dream moved quickly. First pregnancy, then a baby boy, next the kid had perfected his vocabulary. He started yelling, “NO! I don’t want to go with you. This is my home. Leave me alone.” I was stunned–not at his aptitude, but his attitude. The boy wasn’t even walking yet he was ready to walk out on me. I had a baby with a teenage attitude.
I woke up at that point. Sheets wet with sweat from my fever. I’m glad I didn’t get to see how my kid turned out. It wasn’t looking too good.
The dream was one indication, but I know I’m not ready to have a kid for other reasons. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready despite what people say. I like being alone. I really do. I like hiking, shopping, running by myself. I can’t imagine living with someone else when I so enjoy coming home from work to my own place, without people. Beautiful enjoyable aloneness, partnerless, kidless, silence.