Sunday night, in my dreams, I had four children. Four of them. Three boys and one girl. I was in a parking garage and I was trying to leave to go to Igor’s. My kids were coming out of a door into the garage. I was running late. I had to get to Igor’s. He-weasel was trying to help me back up to get out of the garage and onto the street. The exit was VERY narrow and surrounded by two glass doors. I had to be perfectly precise in order to get out of this place and get going to Igor’s. I got out of the space and was on my way to Igor’s. I decided to call Igor and tell him that my daughter’s eye was cut and that I had to take her to urgent care and that’s why I was late. I was trying to find the favorites in my iPhone(where I keep Igor’s number) and I couldn’t. Some applications were eclipsing my favorites and I couldn’t find his number. It was 12:47. In three minutes my session would be over. Next thing I knew I was at Igor’s office and he was gone. Some glamazon receptionist( like a woman in a 007 film) let me into his office. I was going to show her a picture of my daughter’s eye only the only picture I could find in my phone was of a woman that reminded of an image one might see on the show Dexter. I wondered why I was looking for the photo as I knew the story about my daughter was a lie. The receptionist was trying to find another time that Igor could see me. The dream ended.
I woke up feeling kind of blank and empty. The first thought I had was that I had to remember this dream to tell to Igor. It took about an hour for the sad to kick in. I had four children. Four of them. Three boys and one girl and then I woke up and they were gone and I can’t get them back. Yeah, I’m crying. I rarely dream that I have children but when I do it is like a kick in the ovaries. It always hurts. And if I was able to put a ban on content I most certainly would prevent myself from having such dreams. It is cruel and unusual for a childless not by choice to dream of having children.
The only thing I can think of was I was watching a British mystery the night before this dream and there were these dopey people in it who had two kids and as I was watching the show I thought to myself, “even idiots like these can have kids” and there was some resulting sadness( the holidays always amplifies the emptiness of our nest).
I don’t know what this dream means. I can’t get close enough to it to find out. There are just too many feelings about the dream kids to look at the rest of the dream. I am going to take it to Igor on Thursday. I am not sure if I am going to let him analyze my kids as anything other than my kids. I think I need them to continue to exist in me and not be turned into a symbol of something else.
This dream seemed to switch on something that had been turned off, no—I am still clear that we are done and that there won’t be any children for us. It’s the grief that was switched on. I spent yesterday trying to find a way to switch the grief off but the dream had more power than I did. I went to bed last night hoping that another dream would come that would eclipse the one with my four children—-no dream came. So I guess I have to feel this for a while and in time I will feel something else. And just for the record, I would prefer that the something else came sooner than later.