I don’t usually remember my dreams. And when I do, all I recall are hazy snippets that don’t make sense, and are soon shrugged off and forgotten. I think I can remember five nights where I woke up, fully remembering all I dreamed: great tales of fantasy and adventure, of giant robots, space travel, dragons, mountain-climbing and huge tidal waves of red fish at my high school.
Hey, when all you read is fantasy and science-fiction, it rubs off on your subconscious, ok?
I love remembering my dreams. The stories my brain comes up without me rival anything I’ve ever read.
But last night I had a dream that has… not so much shaken me, as left me with a bizarre sense of longing. It wasn’t a nightmare, it wasn’t scary. It wasn’t filled with daring and adventure, and there were no fairies and dragons and great battles. It was completely mundane.
Most of it took place in my room, as I recall.
And I had a son. Noah. Just a day or two old.
The dream carried on, just going about the normalcy of taking care of an infant: feeding and bathing and changing nappies and keeping the cat away. People came to visit (oddly, the parents of the new child in my class are the ones I remember the most clearly). They wanted to hold him and made a huge fuss over him.
The baby had blonde, slightly reddish hair and big dark eyes. He was gorgeous.
And then one minute I was in my dream-bed with my dream-baby, and the next I was awake, in an identical bed, sans baby, and the reality that it had all been just a wonderful dream fell around me like a tower of blocks.
I expected to forget it, as often happens. I can hold a dream for moments after I wake but the more I try to remember details, the more it slips away.
But not this time.
I remember that baby, and I want that baby even though I know fully that he was something my subconscious concocted.
The whole day this dream has bugged me. The broodiness that never really goes away these days is back with a vengence.
The funny thing is, though I’ve always wanted a daughter, I now know exactly how much I would love a son.
And one day, hopefully soon, I will have a baby. And if it’s a boy, I have a name that goes really well with “William” for a middle name (after my Dad).
Noah.
Until then, I will sit and be the Scary Broody Single Lesbian ™, and wait for the time to be right.
Until then, it’s just a dream.
Witchy Saeth 