I used to have bad dreams all the time. I have no idea why - I certainly didn't feel like my life was in turmoil, but I'd dream of family members dying in the most bizarre ways. One time it was my mom and sister - they were both tied to the railway tracks on the side of a cliff and a train was coming. I only had time to untie one arm and one leg for each of them, and then the train came and cut off their other arms and legs. One time I dreamt that my stepmother had died in a car wreck...I woke up so worried that I called her at 7am...she was not impressed.
Last night I had a dream about an underground parking garage...it was very pertinent in the dream, but I cannot for the life of me think of why? Maybe because I am perpetually afraid of losing my car in a multilevel parking garage. Maybe because I have lost my car in a parking garage, walking round and round in circles all the way to the top and then all the way back down again. But that's another story.
Last night I dreamt that my sweet baby girl was a bouquet of orange roses. It turned into my Little Miss then turned back to roses several times. I have no idea what that says about the way my mind works, nor do I wish to think about it. At some point the roses/baby were wrapped in a ton of paper, and if the paper had orange marks, it meant the baby/roses couldn't talk, and if it turned purplish, it meant she (or the roses) couldn't breathe. When I awoke, the roses/baby had turned purple and I was very upset.
I looked at the clock and saw that it was 6:21am and I realized I hadn't heard her stirring all night. I try so hard not to worry, but after a purple rose dream I was worried. I tried telling myself that it means nothing, it was just a dream, but as I lay there becoming more and more awake, I knew I had to check on her. Up I got and quietly crept out of my room and down the hall keeping a close eye on the sleeping dogs who would use any opportunity to jump up and start shaking like mad (thus causing their dog tags to jingle and wake up the baby). I turned her doorknob with the gentlest, slowest motion possible, and slowly pushed open the door. Usually I will stand there and wait for movement, because she invariably moves her foot or hand or head, but not today. She was so still in fact that I slowly crept closer, looking to see if her colouring was good and if I could see her chest rise.
By now you are probably thinking I am a raving lunatic, and honestly I try not to be, but when I get a thought in my head (especially from a dream which makes no sense and yet seemed so real) I need to dispel it before I can relax.
I got closer and closer to her crib, ready to duck out of sight if she happened to open her eyes, and finally she moved. Just a bit but enough for me to relax. As I backed out of her room I tried not to giggle at the silliness that I put myself through just because she slept a little longer. My sweet little bouquet of roses!