WHAT IF I WERE PREGNANT?

WHAT IF I WERE PREGNANT

OMG! At my age?

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Exhaustion fuzzed my brain and took over my entire body. My husband noticed something was wrong and asked why I seemed so out of sorts.

“What’s the matter with you today? You look as though you’re ready to drop!”

“Another nightmare,” I replied.

“Want to talk about it?”

He looked worried. Can’t say that I blame him. I’d been having the same nightmare for weeks. It never changed. Absolutely, never!

“Can’t you change it?” he started. “You did that once before. Remember the nightmare about the train?”

How could I forget? I was on a fast-moving train that was speeding through a desert. Although I was the only passenger, there were no seats. I was forced to stand and hold tight to the center pole to keep me upright. There seemed to be no stations where we might stop. The train never slowed in its trek across the dry, dusty wilderness. I had no idea why was I on the train, nor where it was headed. There was no sign of it ever stopping. I saw no conductor, no ticket master. No One! Panic was beginning to overtake my emotions. I knew I had to get off, but there were no doors, only sealed windows. How do you exit a long, enclosed capsule that moved way too fast, going nowhere? Yet, I knew I had no choice. I had to find a way to get off that train.

“Yes, I remember,” I told him. “I concentrated on that dream while in bed waiting for sleep to come. I concentrated on a station just ahead where the train would be forced to stop, and I could find a way off. Suddenly, the train slowed. I inched my way to the rear of the car and found a very small door. I squeezed through it and jumped! After rolling in and eventually being covered with sand, I stood, brushed myself off and found I was standing in the city where I could walk on solid ground. I was free. I don’t know what that dream was supposed to mean, but I was free to change course and pursue another destination.”

“Well, hon, you did it once. Try again. Maybe this time, you won’t beat me up in your dream.”

I smiled a weak smile but knew he was right.

In the current dream, I was standing outside a room whose door was closed. You could see a trace of light between the door and the floor. Then I heard three loud poundings. It seemed as though whoever or whatever was in that room, was trying to pound his way out. Before I could run, the door opened, and I was pulled inside where I felt as though I was placed inside a thick, stiff tarp that wouldn’t let go. As hard as I tried to escape, whatever was holding me gripped me tighter. I felt as though I would eventually find no air to breathe. I tried to curl into a ball but that stiff substance was too strong, and I couldn’t bend my arms or legs. Suddenly, I felt cool water on my face and my body began to relax.

Another nightmare but I learned that my loud cries awoke my husband, and he wrapped his arms around me trying to soothe me and chase the dream away. Not having any luck, he went to the bathroom and held a face cloth under the cool water and then began wiping my face. At least, I knew what woke me.

I still have no idea what that dream was or who / what was entrapping me.

A few nights later, I tried to enter the dream and find a solution. It didn’t work.

I began to vomit. Sometimes, I’d awaken in the middle of the night and find the need to race to the bathroom. Other times, during the day, the urge to purge was expedient. If I didn’t vomit, the heartburn would be so excrutiating that I’d force myself to throw up.

I told my husband, “If the vomiting and heartburn don’t stop in the next week or two, I won’t have a choice but to see the doctor.”

He enthusiastically agreed.

The vomiting got worse. Eating was difficult. I’d begin my meal, but after two or three bites found it necessary to push the dish away. The sight and smell of the food was making me ill.

“Honey, how are you feeling?” my husband asked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look terrible. Your skin is so pale, your eyes looked all bugged out, and I can tell you lost too much weight. This nightmare and the effect it’s been having on you have gone on for much too long. What’s it been? Two months? Have you called the doctor?”

“Yeah, it’s actually ten weeks and I was just about to call him. I feel like all I want to do is lie down and sleep, but I wanted coffee first. Hopefully, this will stay in the stomach.”

After calling the doctor, we made the appointment for the following week.

Finally, the day arrived, and my husband insisted on driving to the doctor’s office with me. Trying to be funny, or at least hoping to lift my spirits, he said, “It would be a real nightmare you were pregnant again.”

“OMG!, That’s not even funny. First of all, I’m way too old. Secondly, I had surgery thirty years ago. And lastly, my menopause was so long ago, even the memory of it has disappeared from my memory bank. It’s totally impossible.”

He continued to grin. “Just a crazy thought, after all, you do have all the symptoms.”

“And just what would you do if I were?”

He laughed aloud now. “Call the Guiness Book people and see if we can get your name in the book, then see if, after thirty years, we can find the doctor who performed the surgery and sue!”

“I sincerely doubt we could. After all this time, he’s probably dead! But not to worry, I can’t be.”

Yet in the back of my mind, I wondered, Or can I be?