Two night ago, I had an intensely vivid dream in which I gave birth to a baby. I was scared to go through labor; save for a couple of doctors who flitted in and out, I was alone in the hospital room. The labor was actually fairly easy, much easier, less painful, and shorter than I expected it to be.
Afterward, sitting all alone there, I kind of went back into my tough mode, like, alright I had a baby. Let’s get back to work. I left the baby at home with my dear mother, but as soon as I left the house, I became terrified that something would happen. Mom would forget about the baby while cooking at the stove or some other such benign event leading to certain disaster. I rushed home to pick up my child and hold it close. Just before I woke up, I remember thinking that have a baby was like having my heart made of glass, living outside of my body. And, when I awoke, I was genuinely sad that I had no baby to hold.
Again, I’m struck with the weirdness of being in this body! This motherly urge feels largely physical, like my body is telling me things that don’t match up with what’s in my head. My mind knows that I don’t want a baby and that I am so far away from being able to support a child, even if I did want it. It’s so strange to experience the wordless, instinctive urges in my body. It’s like my body has its own consciousness.