I woke in a panic, reaching for my husband. I'd dreamt I’d had our baby in the morning and then gone to the office for the afternoon, before popping by UCH on my way home to pick the baby up from a tetchy nurse. It was detailed and cinematically vivid; when I woke my heart was racing hotly. But my husband wasn’t there. I was at the Intercontinental in Dusseldorf, alone. Well, not entirely alone; our baby kicked suddenly. Perhaps to register its objections on being born to such a crap mother.
I read on babycentre.com once that sleep expert Mary O'Malley says: "Dreams reflect your emotional reality. Pregnancy brings up positive and negative feelings that you'll digest through your dreams." Hmm. In the morning, I shared my dream in light conversation with two close German colleagues, who were shocked. When will you give up work, they ask? When will you stop travelling? Perhaps the dream sensitised me to their suggestion that I was already pushing it a bit... [CLICK HERE TO READ MORE AND COMMENT]
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