44. You write a story which ends with the words, "...and then I woke up and it was only a dream." And then you wake up.
I wake up alert, and my pregnant belly gets out of bed first. This is my third pregnancy, and it feels the same as the first two. Physically it feels the same, mentally, not even close. My sister has been yearning for a child for a long time, and I feel it is my responsibility to help her.
***
Now I am in the hospital, the doctor hands me a newborn, and I immediately give it to my sister. I don't feel the same attachment to this child as I did my own. I suppose it is because I have been preparing myself for this moment. The moment when we part ways.
***
My eyes open, I'm in my bed. Instantly, my hands move to my stomach, no baby. I wake up Ron unintentionally with my movement. I keep telling him we need a new bed, he could wiggle his big toe and it would wake me up. He rolls over and says, 'Did you have the dream again?' while rubbing his tired eyes.
I answer, 'Yup, I'll never get back to sleep now.' As I lay there, trying to get back to sleep, I think about the day when my sister found out she won't be able to have children. Is this dream a glimpse of the future? Will I be as strong as the dream version of me? The only way to tell is time.
My 44 year-old daughter's in vitro moves along nicely; week 23, fingers crossed, many dangerous early potholes now in the rearview mirror!
ReplyDeleteI am not usually a fan of this prompt (I have a long boring response as to why I keep it if I don't like it) but every so often it does spin off a good piece, like this one--that feels real, feels less a fantasy than a peek into the mind and life of the dreamer.
The life of a surrogate must be insanely strange--you'd be both mother and aunt, closer than close, yet distant too, but it sounds like you have some sane ideas about all that it might mean.