Friday, June 27, 2014

Pregnant Lady Insanity

So I completely recognize that it has been almost an entire pregnancy since my last post, but this morning's crazy pregnant lady dream was too much of a gem to not archive in the ole' blog. I'm all about random, non-sequential, interrupting thoughts on the blog. I mean... isn't that pretty much every day with kids?

So... the dream. I think it is important to note that while Kelly swears he seldom has dreams (not possible), I am an incredibly avid dreamer at night. Yes,  I am known to occasionally dabble in Ambien but honestly... my weirdy dreams date waaaaaay back to the eternity of my existence. The only issue is that I'm never able to remember them because two seconds after waking, I am greeted for the day by very loud and persistent little people. This morning though, I jotted it down before even getting out of bed. You're welcome.

The dream (which occurred sometime between 6:45-7:53am this morning):

It was just an entire May family trip to the good ole' HEB. (For those non-central Texas folk... HEB = Mecca of grocery stores. I mean, Texas shaped cheese and beers on tap??? It just doesn't get more Texas than that.) Whilest cruising the aisles with Lucy--- Kelly and the rest of the crew were off on another aisle---I began to feel contractions. I stopped an employee and asked them if I could have a chair that I wasn't feeling so well. Instead, he led Lucy and me down the aisle and very Harry Potteresque, opened up this space in the shelf between aisle 3 and 4 for me to push the basket through. Who knew HEB had a makeshift hospital in the middle of the store? So. I parked the cart in the corner of the room, climbed on the bed and in walked my HEB gynecologist... no other than Stacey Tookey, contemporary choreographer on "So You Think You Can Dance". Let's not get carried away... she was in scrubs.

Good ole' Stacey took a look at my insides and informed me that she would just deliver the baby here in HEB. No need to call in EMS. "HEB is about family." She then spent the next several minutes convincing me that 35 weeks is not considered an early baby and there will be NO possible needs for NICU support, etc. Apparently, Stacey reached in for a cervical check, felt my daughter's hand and knew that she was a big enough to deliver. Um... okay. All the while...please keep in mind... that the cart is in room, Lucy is fidgeting with the door handle the entire time I am pushing (I think I'm scarred by all the public restroom experiences with Lucy in the stall) and Kelly and co. are just perusing the aisles looking for baked goods. Not. Normal.

Baby boy pops out looking just like the Gerber baby. (Clearly, Stacey knows nothing about gender prediction... and clearly this baby is not anything like the baby gorillas I normally birth.) So. Instead of finding my husband, HEB just announces overhead "Congrats to the newest May little boy born today in Aisle 3.5". My husband has another son... in which he found out just like he would a special on lunch-meat at the deli. So, I am attempting to nurse and in walks a parade of RANDOM PEOPLE from my entire life to congratulate me in my "birthing suite". To help draw attention away from the fact that I am nursing this random wife of a past friend, begins using her lactating self as a squirt gun and shooting her milk across the room at people all the while spewing prose about why nursing needs to be less taboo in society. It felt so incredibly normal in the moment. Kelly walked in and all forlornly sat in the corner of the room. I told him to come by me and he just sighed and said, he'd wait by the cart because after all... he had missed the whole dang thing.

Pretty immediately, we load up to go. I inquire about a Hep B vaccine for the baby and instead am informed that "we don't do that here but we have some delicious cheese samples from the deli, a jug of spring water and a pack of diapers for you to take home".


I think I will leave the grocery shopping to Kelly for the remainder of my pregnancy. This is clearly what the dream is advising me to do. Clearly.

No comments: