Every day for the last five days, and most days back until December 10th at a casual glance, there has been a hit a day on this blog.
Who are you? What are you looking for? What have you found that speaks to you? What are you rereading?
Talk to me. Let’s make this a conversation.
I woke up at 6:30am this morning from a very detailed dream. I was at at an office or hotel or resort or something (spa resort? Who knows) with conifers around. There was a pregnant woman who went into labor; she was younger, brown hair, and frightened. There was a midwife around, but she seemed less involved in things and I got the impression she was more inclined to call an OB/surgeon. The impending mother went to lie down on her back and I told her that she didn’t need to do that, to move around as she was comfortable, and I would stay with her. She did so, spent some time on all fours, and then abruptly moved to a crouch; she was sort of on a low platform/table thing, and I was on the actual floor. The baby started to be born, a boy — frank breech. I remembered what I knew about birthing breech babies and simply held my hands under to catch him, and coached the mother through the last push. The baby was born in caul (membranes intact), and I held him up to his mother. His eyes were open, he was calm, and he seemed to be returning her kiss. I parted the membrane over his face so that he could start breathing (umbilical still attached, not cut) and told his mother that she should feel proud and not afraid because she had just given birth to a healthy baby boy… breech and unmedicated and with no problems. I made a comment to the midwife (who had been standing back and watching) that OBs really need to be trained in delivering breech again, since it’s not that hard. I then stepped back and realised that this was the first birth that I had attended/midwifed myself (besides my own), and it was an uneventful breech, and was very pleased with and proud of myself. The entire end of things was joyful and calm and happy, and I woke smiling.
A second dream after I went back to sleep involved me somehow talking to the baby himself, from a perspective inside the uterus. I told him to remember to keep his chin tucked down and everything would be okay; he was very happy and looking forward to being born. I reminded him to keep his chin tucked, and a few minutes after that he was being born.
A very odd pair of dreams, but I do think that if I tire of satellites I may switch to midwifery.