Big life problem, partially solved through one tiny dream

Do you dream often?  Do your dreams generally make sense, or are they like something out of a David Lynch film?  Are you aware you’re having a dream, or does it feel real?

I’m a fairly active dreamer.  Always have been.  Then add certain prescription drugs to that, and it’s like watching a sci-fi version of my life in some alternate dimension.  Some are scary, some are funny, and some just make me say ‘what the fuck?’.  More often than not, I’m aware when I’m dreaming.  It’s like I can differentiate between what I know to be real, and how my mind interprets reality while I’m asleep.

I had a doozie of an uncomfortable dream this morning that touched on something that’s always in the back of my mind.  I’ve discussed my thoughts on having children, and my uncertainties given my health situation.  So what if I weren’t sick?  Would I have the same opinion?  Apparently, yes.

In my dream, I was perfectly healthy (which happens only in dreams).  It was relatively normal in that I was hanging out with some people I knew, until I discovered that I had been knocked up.  With frickin’ twins.  Ewwwww.  When I found out, my reaction was similar to if I had been told I had cancer.  I mean, kids are sort of like cancer, right?  My life was over.  I was sad, angry, and felt betrayed.  No where was there a hint of happiness or excitement about the discovery.  It was all bitching, whining, depression, and an intense feeling of helplessness.  The thing that really struck me is that I only talked about these feelings with friends, but was afraid to tell my husband.

Sure, it was only a dream, but it gave me the unique perspective about how I might feel about this sticky topic if chronic illness were a non-issue.  I know plenty of people who knew for certain they wanted children before they had them, and I know just as many that it happened as an accident.  The latter group had the same reaction as I did in my dream, but their lives have changed for the better.

Our plans had generally been if it happens, it happens.  We were by no means trying, because we took preventative measures, but it can still happen.  As I get older, the window of opportunity grows smaller and has forced us to visit the possibility of actually trying if I find myself in better health in the near future.

After waking, I went into critical thinking mode.  My life feels complete, for the most part.  By not having children, I don’t feel I’d missing out on anything.  This leads me to believe the potential of regret that I’ve talked about is highly unlikely.  So now I need to go back to not wanting to tell my husband how I felt in the dream.  I also don’t want to tell him in real life how I feel about it, after having thought about it more.

I know he still wants kids, and I’d be responsible for denying him of this.  When our marriage was on the rocks, that topic was a point of contention.  He couldn’t see himself without a family, and I couldn’t see myself with one.  It was agreed that after we “fixed” the relationship, we’d come back to it and I kept an open mind.  Unfortunately, I got sicker, so we never took the opportunity to really discuss it in depth again after that.  If this is still a make or break issue, then it could result in the end of my marriage.  There are some things that can’t be fixed, and this is one of them.  It’s all about compromise, but is this a fair one to ask him to make?  There are no do-overs.  It’s already like he’s living with someone 50 years older than he is.

There are no easy answers.  I know I’d be up a shit creek if we were to separate, but looking at either side, we’re as equally selfish in some of our reasons to stay or leave.  Even knowing we’re in a decent place right now, the thought of a single idea making or breaking us is unsettling.  I suppose the only way to figure it out is to talk about it openly and honestly.  That scares the shit out of me.

10 thoughts on “Big life problem, partially solved through one tiny dream

    • I do love kids. Afterall, I’ve probably got more in common with them than I do the average adult. If I had my own, I’d have to share my toys 😉

      Seriously though, you’re right. I just hope I don’t shoot myself in the foot.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Haha, I hear ya. At the end of the day it’s such a big decision to have kids, I never thought I’d wanna be a dad, and at aged 20 it was thrown upon me, it was hard but my kids are the reason I get up in the morning and fight on. However everyone is different and know what’s right for them.
        I really hope it goes O.K & your foot remains unblemished afterwards lol 😅

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Mine feels like Blue Velvet…

    cool site, think I’ll graffiti the comments section

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What’s really interesting is the concept that our illnesses are metaphors for unmet needs (or too much of something we don’t want). For instance, when I started rupturing discs in the late 1980’s, I was working 120 hours a week. When I would drag my ass in from a 40 hour shift, my husband would greet me at the door with complaints about our small son, demand that I eat the gourmet meal he had prepared, and that I stay awake for sex. My spine fell apart? NO SUPPORT. Of course, it could simply be the lousy genes I inherited from my father. On the other hand, was the timing affected by the circumstances? I don’t know. But we do have these expressions, like “That makes me sick. I can’t stomach that. It makes me want to puke. What a lot of shit.” Etc. So I take it very seriously when I develop a symptom. For instance, I have high blood pressure. I take pills for that…is there anything I DON’T take pills for??? Anyway, my last two readings, a week apart, have been in the ridiculously high range, despite being on pills. Maybe it has to do with feeling pressured because of my spine. Maybe it’s just genetic. I don’t know. Oh, I just thought of something: maybe it’s because of pain. But rather than treat the pain, my doctors would rather I had a stroke. Now I get it!

    Liked by 1 person

    • That pain shit will make your heart explode. I feel for you. I take Tramadol for the neuropathy, and it does help with that and also eases my abdominal pain a bit, but does absolutely nothing for my back. Like zero.

      You could probably use a steady stream of fentanyl for that, huh. I bet that bp would drop like a rock. Speaking of, have you heard anything else from your doctors?


      • Yeah, I sure need sumpin, but all it was tonight was an extra BP pill. Fuck.

        Well, let’s see. I get to see a PA next week to go over my c-spine MRI results. You know, if I had had my crystal ball tuned up way back when, and could have seen that people with 26 months of post graduate education are being allowed to do what it took me 4 years of med school and 3 years of residency, and in the case of spine surgery, 5 years of residency, 3 years of spine fellowship, and various additional certificate programs…well, if all it takes now is 26 months, who’s the jackass??? Anyway, I’ll be able to read the radiologist’s report and see the images for myself. Then I suppose I have to come back and see the actual neurosurgeon, because as nice as the PA is, she just doesn’t have the chops to give me a diagnosis, prognosis, or even a prescription for pain pills, which no one has suggested so far. In fact I’m so nauseated from the pain at the moment, I don’t think I could even get a pill down my gullet. It’s about that fentanyl, Dr.Kara….


Talk to me, Goose!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s