What Dreams May Come: Part II 

If you’ve already read my post about how I dreamed of my son, the relevance of this next story will make a lot more sense.

Again, I’m not a big analyzer of dreams and their deeper Freudian meaning or what they say about the bigger picture of life as it exists at that time. I’m not against that school of thought in any way, I just have always been rather matter of fact about the dreams I remember; hopefully they are pleasant, and I wake up happy.  Simple pleasures. I remember very few dreams. This is likely because since I rarely reach restful levels of sleep, there probably isn’t a whole lot of dreaming going on up in my noggin.

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Just about one year ago this month, after my very last IVF but a couple of months before I began to feel the tug of adoption, I had another dream.  It was much like the one I had about E fifteen years before, in terms of feeling sweet contented bliss in the simplest, most fulfilling context possible. I had lay down for a quick nap right after I put E down, exhausted after a busy morning playing outside on a hot day. I slept for around an hour or so, but I didn’t want to wake up because I was living the sweetest dream and it felt blessedly real. This one featured me with a child just like in my dream about E, but the details were a bit fuzzier for some reason.  Here is what I remember; I was cradling the sweetest little baby girl. She was an infant, and I remember knowing that she was mine. I was just walking around my home, holding this peaceful little baby girl. She was too young to smile, but she was blowing spit bubbles like brand new babies will do, and I was charmed and delighted.

Here is what made this dream such a unique experience…she was a beautiful little brown baby girl!  Since the details aren’t crystal clear, I cannot remember if she was African-American, Hispanic, Indian, Native American, etc. She had large black eyes with long lashes and short, wispy black baby hair.

Rewind: This was before we had started to think about adoption, much less discuss it. We were in the stage at the time where the doctors were saying I might be able to become pregnant again using donor eggs.  Generally in that process, you choose a donor who matches as many of your own characteristics as possible. So this dream came out of nowhere, no subliminal longing, no subconscious-beneath-the-surface-realizing-of-what-might-be, nothing but a completely random dream dropped into my peaceful slumber like ice into a glass.

I told the hubs about it, and he laughed, thinking it would be quite the trick to pull off giving birth to a dark-skinned baby with our genes.  He’s right about that. But I can’t help but wonder, much like my dream with E, if I was given the gift of a tiny glimpse of what the future holds. We may not have been thinking about adoption yet at that point, but it’s safe to say God was, and He was way ahead of us!

I am too cynical to say that since I had this dream, I am firmly committed to the belief that we will one day adopt a baby girl of color. I have no clue what will happen.  The hubs and I do believe that God already knows our children, and we don’t want to put boundaries around that. We communicated to our agency (such as it is) way back in the beginning that we had no gender or racial preference.  We didn’t say, “Girl only. Must be non-Caucasian.”  We left it all open.

We actually have been presented for two different adoption situations very recently, both baby girls, one Hispanic, one African-American. We weren’t chosen as the family for either of the babies, so maybe my dream was just that: a dream that was nothing more than a dream. It’s impossible to say.  We were a “second choice” for one of the girls, so that’s good, I guess. Right?  Okay, so I know that it most definitely is not, but I’m trying to keep things positive these days. Work with me here!

If we do end up adopting a dark-skinned baby girl someday, you can bet I will start paying a lot more attention to the significance of my dreams!  Maybe there is something to it. After all, I do have a friend with a proven track record of predicting future events through her dreams, or even just strong feelings that overtake her and don’t let go until she communicates the message to her friend or loved one. I was on the receiving end of this once, much to my delight.  And she was right! Absolutely true story…perhaps a future blog post?


 

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What Dreams May Come, part 1

Many years ago, probably when I was in my early 20s but before I met the hubs, I had a dream that I have never forgotten. I was in a backyard, playing with a little boy with blonde hair, pale skin, and eyes so dark they were almost black. That was the whole dream; we were just playing and laughing. I recognized in the dream this must be my son, but it didn’t feel prophetic or like a life-changing epiphany. Just an ordinary dream where I felt very happy and content. I don’t remember most of my dreams, but this one was vivid and has never faded from my mind.

I wrote about it in my journal “just in case” I had such a little boy one day. Also, I didn’t want to risk forgetting. I told the hubs about it years later, even after we were dealing with infertility, as I recall. The hubs is a very grounded, realistic sort of person so this revelation about my dream didn’t exactly full him with confidence that it was a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled. And neither did I, to be honest. It just sort of stuck with me, and I like remembering the way I felt during the dream.

Also of note: I could never find a a picture that really nailed the coloring or true depiction of the boy in my dream, so I couldn’t describe him to the hubs very well. The description sounds fairly ordinary, but the boy wasn’t ordinary at all. His coloring was so unique. Then one day, I was watching the movie Love Actually, when this kid shows up!

The “Love Actually” kid, the one I recognized as being eerily similar to the kid I dreamed of years before.

I was so excited!  Although he wasn’t the exact replica of my dream-kid, he was darn close. Even though I was watching the movie alone, (since the hubs would rather be boiled alive in hot oil than watch this film), I was so excited to find a good representation of the kid from my years-old-yet-vivid-dream, I made him come take a look. He scanned the screen, said something like, “It is noted,” and went back to what he was doing.

Several more years passed, and we eventually became pregnant through IVF and had a baby boy. I wish I could say the memory of my dream propelled me through the most challenging moments of infertility, but it didn’t. I thought of it all the time, but I didn’t think of it as my destiny.  In fact, I thought I was having a girl until we had the anatomy scan.

If I’m being honest, this story would be much cooler if I had dreamed about a boy with red hair and green eyes and freckles, and then actually birthed that baby. The hubs and I have none of those as dominant traits. How awesome would that be to see a menagerie of recessive traits come to life after dreaming of a boy who possessed them? Spooky!

My dream was/is very special to me. I absolutely believe I got a little glimpse of life with my son at least ten years before his birth. Of course, the fact that he was born with the genetic traits of the dream-kid is not exactly a head scratcher. 

After all, the odds of giving birth to a boy are 50/50. My eyes are very, very dark and my skin is about as light as skin comes. The hubs has gorgeous blue eyes and is Caucasian too, but with a lot more color to his skin tone. We both have brown wavy/curly hair, but we were both very blonde as children. Therefore it is fairly obvious that E inherited his very light skin and dark eyes from me, and his blonde/wavy/unruly hair from both of us. Mystery solved.

But still, the dream is awesome. And frankly, I thought of it a lot during our infertility journey. Not as my guiding light but just as a small reminder of how happy I was playing in the backyard with the little boy in my dream.

Has anyone else had a dream that came true, or a similar experience? I hope you will share in the comments below!

Yeah, I Lost My Password. That Happened.

I’m B-A-C-K!
I should make up something much cooler than why I haven’t been on here for a couple weeks, but the honest to goodness truth is I locked myself out. That is decidedly unglamorous and frankly, a little embarrassing, but it’s all part of being me. My trusty old cell phone up and died, and when it did, it took my passwords with it. Yes, I had the majority of my vital passwords stored on my phone, a falliable piece of technology at best. Consequently, I went and locked myself out of such applications as WordPress, Facebook, Amazon, and so on.  Take note: If you ever find yourself in this situation, simply hit the “forgot password” button and take it from there.  Do not guess three times at what you think your password might be, because that leads to the application thinking you are an imposter and it will immediately and callously punt you right off your own site and not think twice about it.  The process to get back in after that is much more difficult than if I had simply admitted to myself in the beginning that I had jack idea of what these passwords were, and reached out for help via the inviting button that reads “forgot password.” 

As I was helplessly logged out of my blog, I continued to write and store my thoughts in MS Word, so I actually have a number of posts to enter. I have some fun news, some hopeful news, and some awesome revelations that have made my path brighter.  I have a little “I am woman, hear me roar” thing going on right now, so prepare yourselves.  Mamas, the next one is for you.

Troll Be-Gone

Updating this blog is something that brings me joy.  It’s therapeutic, and it really makes me feel like my readers are on the journey with me, and that somehow I’m not shouldering the weight alone.  So believe me when I tell you that no one is more surprised that me that I allowed an anonymous troll meanie to scare me away from my own blog for three weeks because of the unkind words that he/she posted to my page (since deleted).  I won’t bore you with all the details, but someone from the blogosphere, who I have never met nor heard of, reached out to me to let me know that they felt that sharing the personal moments of my life was proof I was an “attention whore” and that they actually doubted that half of what I was saying was true.  This was especially painful because it was right after I published a piece from the heart, a blog post called “Where I Stood” that was deeply meaningful to me.

I mulled that over for a while, wondering why someone would go out of their way to reach out for the purpose of calling me names and doubting my authenticity.  I truly thought hard about it for a while, until I realized something: their motives matter not.  They hurt my feelers and knocked me off my path for a little while, but I eventually came back around to MY motives: the intentional decision to be very open and honest about my experiences growing our family, for the express purpose of ENCOURAGING others.  The Hubs and I keep a pretty upbeat outlook on life despite the fact that we have to try so much harder than the average bear to add children to our family.  Between our optimism, and all we have been through, I have developed the desire to encourage others to stay in the game and not give up on their dream of being a parent, no matter the method.  I can’t believe I let some faceless internet troll who probably lives in their parent’s basement deter me from my mission, even if it was just for three weeks.  That’s just embarrassing, and I should be better than that.

Have you ever let someone get to you over something they are completely unqualified to judge you for?  How long did it take for you to realize you were giving them way more power than they deserved? I’m glad it only took me three weeks to bounce back.  It’s so uncharacteristic of me to even give a single second to something like that, but the idea that my good intentions were being viewed as “attention whore-ness” was really a sucker punch.  So here’s to keeping the internet trolls where they belong, in the dark recesses of cyber space, powerless and alone as God intended.

Hang on for adoption updates, I’ve got a whole bunch of them!

www.borrowedgenes.com