Baby Dreams

I had a dream last night about the baby. The baby had decided to come out, just for a little bit. Labor was painless. We weren't sure of the sex since the baby was clothed (and sitting up) but we were surprised to think it was a boy. We fell in love with him right away. He was beautiful and liked to watch his dad carefully. I think he had on a corduroy jacket...he was adorable, with dark blue eyes and brown hair, and we took him out for a long walk in his stroller, along a shaded road under a canopy of spring green trees.

Before I could wake up, however, the dream baby decided he should go back in for a little bit to keep growing. Yesterday, while having a conversation with a work colleague, I felt very strong movements downward, which I thought might be the baby dropping, but no, not yet. I feel them now as I write, too. My OB asked if I was staying locally for the holiday next week; when I said yes, she said, "That's wise! Me too!" I'm excited.

We bought a stroller the other day. A real beauty, high-end design in a bright golden yellow, and it comes with a DVD that made me laugh almost all the way through. Four dads dance out into a modern dance version of an urban environment, each pushing a Bee. They kick it, pull it, and run crazily with it to demonstrate how versatile and durable it is. I had to watch it twice just for the pleasure of it. That said, I still don't quite have all the features mastered. There is a section where no one is dancing, and probably I should watch that demo again once or twice.

Of course, it could be a full seven weeks until the baby actually arrives. Or three weeks. Or five weeks. Or one week. No one really knows. But ever since the baby has been using his or her hands to tap out the time on my lower abdomen, I've been thinking s/he is getting bored in there.


Misc. on a Rainy Warm Day

"I wish I could sleep in a state of suspension," I said to Blue the other morning, rubbing my aching hips. "Like I was weightless."

"You want to be in the womb," he pointed out: yep, once again, I've turned into my baby. I just want to lie on my back and watch mobiles and eat pureed squash.

Except I don't. I miss reading poetry. I want to walk for hours in a city. I want to go to New York on the bus and see art. I want to go to Miami and dance. I want to go to Budapest and drink cappucinos again and watch people walk down the sidewalk past the old buildings with the bullet holes.

Party Shuffle has brought up It Takes A Nation of Millions. I tell Blue I want to go to Harvard Square and
be inside and outside at the same time
I play Television Man
make apple pancakes and fakin' bacon for breakfast
woke up to the baby making a tip tap tip tap on my right side, along the side of my belly pushing into the bed. Little points, tip tap tip tap
I run my hand down baby's back, pressed against my belly button
Like a shooting star across my belly
A foot or a hand streaks across
An elegant sighting

Inside and outside at the same time


He's In!!

Humina humina humina. Everything I voted for yesterday passed...decriminalizing small amounts of marijuana, banning dog racing, the awesome new president, all of it! I still can't believe it. I woke up from nightmares twice last night, both times in a sweat, breaking out of dreaming that McCain won. The second time I was hearing voices both from abroad and from the African-Americans here around me: "How rascist are Americans that they won't elect the obviously phenomenal choice?" "No, no, no!" I said, tossing and turning until I woke up, convinced that it was true even as my dream self tried to explain that Americans are better than that. Today I feel like I have a right to call myself an American again; I care so much about America, it's just that I hate some of the things we've been doing these past eight years. It was 4:30 am and I checked the Internet to see if my nightmares were real. No, no, not at all. It was just a night of bad dreams. With most states called, it was 338 to 158. I got teary with gratitude and tried to fall back asleep, to no avail. The baby began to stretch inside me, pushing out feet on one side, arms on the other.

Today I spent some quality time trying to print out the homepage of the NYTimes for my baby book. I can add "elected African-American president" in the list of fab things the baby has done in utero (camped on Cape Cod, glider ride, peach-picking). Now I'm tired, but perky from buying beauty products online, my new vice. Aaaah, it's a new day in America.