Scary Baby Dream #1

Thursday, August 02, 2012

I am a solid sleeper.  I never wake up in the middle of the night.  Rarely have trouble falling asleep.
 
Boy, have times changed.
 
First, it was the bathroom breaks.  At least once a night.
 
Annoying?  Extremely.
 
But I experienced something new last weekend.  While I was not interrupted {for once} by bathroom breaks, I woke up last Saturday feeling anything other than rested.
 
More like intensely stressed out and terrified.
 
I had my first “Oh God, I’m having a baby” dream.  Also know as Scary Baby Dream.  Here’s out it went down…
 
{Lucky for all of us, the dream started post-delivery.}
 
I woke up in a hospital bed.  One of those old, fake wood paneling for a headboard ones.  The entire hospital was early 80s old school, including the tiny boxed, antennaed TV sitting at the end of my bed.  All of the nurses had green uniforms and hats on and it was incredibly noisy.
 
Because my bed was in the hallway with just a curtain around it.  Of course. Where else would it be?
 
I woke up after birthing a baby, with a kid in my arms, in the middle of an old, ugly, busy hallway.  No one was with me and no one was paying attention to me, despite constantly asking nurses for help.
 
And I had to pee.
 
{Shocking.}
 
So I took matters into my own hands to find a commode.  Walking around the hospital in my gown, carrying a newborn, I kept finding bathrooms that no one would let me use!  At which point I started openly sobbing.
 
“WHY WON’T ANYONE HELP ME??”
 
I just walked around the hospital carrying my baby…sobbing…saying that over and over…trying to find a bathroom.  I also remember sobbing, “THIS IS NOTHING LIKE JAMIE & MICHAEL SAID IT WAS!!” {Referencing our friends who delivered at the same hospital we are.}
 
I eventually found myself in the basement of the hospital, a giant room full of pipes and pumps, still looking for a bathroom.  Thank God, in the back of one dirty corner was one lonely commode.  No stalls, no curtains, no one to stop me.  So I took it.
 
And who then would come walking along? A group of janitors.  Why wouldn’t they.  But one of them kindly stopped to check on the crazy crying post-partum girl in the corner.
 
So there I was.  In a basement, sitting on a toilet openly peeing, wearing a hospital gown, holding a tiny baby, sobbing, recounting my entire story to this poor janitor.
How no one was here with me and I just had a baby and no one would let me use a bathroom and “WHY WON’T ANYONE HELP ME??”
 
I woke up feeling totally refreshed and jazzed to have a baby.

I blame giant scary hospital baby.  Thank you, Olympics.

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