The date is overly meaningful

Item – H is feeling a lot better. Friday night was the worst, in terms of Horrible Minutes Trapped In Bathroom. Saturday, he draped his person across various beds and arm-chairs, sulking and occasionally, when he had the energy, complaining, feverish and stomach-achey. And today, he declared himself well enough to go out for lunch and dragged me to the nearby pub so he could eat roast beef. I pointed out he was pushing his luck, rather, but he merely smiled beatifically at me before grinding to a halt half-way through the yorkshire puddings. Ha. But, yes, indeed, he is feeling a lot better. Even his burnt hand is a lot better (though, you know, blisters, ick).

Item – Early this morning I dreamt I finally had a baby daughter, and she was lying in my arms, breastfeeding (even in the dream this gave me a strange, visceral thrill of bewildered happiness – my own daughter at my breast, my body finally doing something right and doing it well), and H and I were looking lovingly at this darling child and rejoicing in her existance, that after all we’d gone through she was finally here, in our arms. And then, with a sudden lurch of anxiety, I realised I couldn’t remember her name. We’d given her such a pretty one. What was it? Minx? No, that was my niece’s name. Willow? Rose? What was her name? Worried, I bent my head to look at her again, to see if that would jog my memory, and realised I was holding a plastic doll. There was no baby. I sat bolt upright in a sweat of fear and shame, that I’d mistaken a doll for a living child, and realised I was awake. April Fool. Damn it.

Item – Meanwhile H (banished to the spare bed in the study for snoring violations) had also had a bad dream. He was at a big family dinner-party, and then when he got up from the table to clear up, he saw one of the guests had hung herself, and all the while he’d been drinking and playing cards and having a good time, she’d been dangling there behind them all, ignored. And she had the face of H’s aunt, who really did kill herself a few years ago. Of course, today would have been her birthday. Oh, my poor beloved H.

Item – So, there we both are, after our week’s holiday, strung out, exhausted from lack of sleep, recovering from a trifecta of health attacks and/or from looking after a chap with a trifecta of health attacks, and now both nervous wrecks as well because our respective subconsciouses decided today was a good day to get a thorough kicking in. Pfft. Holidays. Who needs them.


7 responses to “The date is overly meaningful

  • a

    That is not a good end to the holiday. 😦

    Hope tomorrow is better…

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    What a mightily upsetting and unsettling pair of nightmares. You poor, ENTIRELY-undeserving, pair of sufferers. Nervous wrecks (which my battery-failing keyboard just cunningly abbreviated to Nercks…) is not how we like our May & H. The breast-feeding dream… gah. I’ve had that one, and it’s a horror, I know. Hard on all sorts of levels.

    Crisp light Yorkshire Puds are just the thing for a recovering stomach, I would think, but perhaps H attempted them a trifle early. As cow-owners, I can only hope that he finished the beef!

    I dream, DREAM, of successfully banishing J for snoring violations – but, in truth, I would sleep forever alone and cold. Quietly and better, yes, but cold.

    I prescibe a holiday to recover from the holiday. I think you deserve a re-do from start.

  • wombattwo

    Ugh, those dreams. Hateful unnerving upsetting nightmares. They are horrible.
    Glad H is feeling better. Have you managed to escape the germs?
    I agree with HFF – a holiday to recover from the holiday is definitely in order.
    Many hugs.

  • Katie

    Horrid indeed. You aren’t coming down with the stomach bug too?

  • twangy

    Ooh.. Horrible dreams, hanging around for hours to ruin the atmosphere. I have a similar one, in which the baby shrinks till I drop and lose her. So obvious, apart from anything. Brrr.
    Better dreams please, collective conciousness, without delay.

  • Womb For Improvement

    I hate those baby dreams. I remember one where for about the next two days I felt bereft, and had to keep telling myself that I’d never actually had one.

  • Anonymous

    I’m worried that to say ‘I hope things look up’ may sound dismissive, almost, in the face of all you had to face – both recently and over time.

    However, I mean it in the warmest, most earnest way, when I say that I really do hope things improve and that you have some very happy news soon.

    Best wishes to you and H.

%d bloggers like this: