A Bad Dream

I've had some weird pregnancy dreams.  Some of them have been so weird that when I wake up and tell Phil, he looks at me and says, "Yeah... don't repeat that to anyone."

So I don't.

Last night, I had a bad dream.

I dreamt that I had the baby right now, he was 16 pounds (which is terrifying) and then he died.

Obviously, the dream woke me up.  Unfortunately, it returned every time I fell back asleep for the rest of the night.

I hate dreams like that.  You wake feeling vulnerable and scared.  It doesn't matter that I know the odds of any of those things happening is extremely small (especially the part about having a 16 pound baby).  The emotions during the dreams are so strong, you just can't shake them.

This was definitely not a great way to start my day.

Thankfully, the little man has been doing everything he can to let me know that he is more than alright.  We've had a nice little morning of lots of gentle little movements.  Nothing painful or jarring (not like last night when he moved into a position that made it totally impossible to sit down without pain).

Already, he's such a good boy.  :)

{From our February ultrasound.  

He can go ahead and stay in there until he's good and ready to greet the world.  

But hopefully that's before he weighs 16 pounds.}