Nighttime practice sessions
I've read the first aid section of What to Expect the Toddler Years. I took a first aid/CPR course, like, 4 years ago. Maybe I'm due for a refresher, but it's better than nothing. But evidently my brain thinks I need more practice for a potential Isaac life-and-death situation, and it decided that this practice should occur while I'm trying to sleep.
When I was pregnant with Isaac, I had weird dreams, more often than not bad dreams. U.B. is just giving me nightmares, organized neatly into nightly themes, with multiple dreams revolving around the same deadly-scenario genre. It seems that every third night brings a new scary session, all involving Isaac in deadly accidental situations.
Last week, Isaac was choking -- luckily I don't remember that all too well now. Two nights ago, Isaac was drowning. In the first dream, I had decided to use the "wet pail" storage method for my dirty cloth diapers, meaning they soak in a small vat of liquid to help them get clean before wash day. Though this vat had a lid that was sealed, Isaac managed to open it up and topple himself, headfirst, inside, such that he was drowning in cleaning fluid and baby poo -- all while I had turned to do something else for 5 minutes. In the second dream, we were along the Wilmington Riverfront we visited last weekend, and somehow Isaac's chunky frame managed to slip through a small gap in the fence along the sidewalk, and he dropped about 15 feet into the swift-moving waters of the Christina River.
In no dream does he actually die; rather, each scene has me rushing to action in one way or another. In the first, I pull him out and quickly put him on his side to see if he can drain some crap out of his lungs; when that doesn't work, I call 911 and start CPR. In the second, I throw my cell phone at a bystander and tell them to call 911 before I jump in the river after him, my shoddy swimming skillz be damned. As soon as I make my move, the dreams end, and I wake up, first horrified that my baby was drowning, then, realizing I am definitely not going back to sleep, wondering if that was really the right thing to do and trying to come up with a game plan, should such stupefyingly horrible things occur. In the wake of Katrina, I learned that our local Red Cross offers first aid and emergency training courses. Perhaps that should be written onto the family calendar, and soon.
When I was pregnant with Isaac, I had weird dreams, more often than not bad dreams. U.B. is just giving me nightmares, organized neatly into nightly themes, with multiple dreams revolving around the same deadly-scenario genre. It seems that every third night brings a new scary session, all involving Isaac in deadly accidental situations.
Last week, Isaac was choking -- luckily I don't remember that all too well now. Two nights ago, Isaac was drowning. In the first dream, I had decided to use the "wet pail" storage method for my dirty cloth diapers, meaning they soak in a small vat of liquid to help them get clean before wash day. Though this vat had a lid that was sealed, Isaac managed to open it up and topple himself, headfirst, inside, such that he was drowning in cleaning fluid and baby poo -- all while I had turned to do something else for 5 minutes. In the second dream, we were along the Wilmington Riverfront we visited last weekend, and somehow Isaac's chunky frame managed to slip through a small gap in the fence along the sidewalk, and he dropped about 15 feet into the swift-moving waters of the Christina River.
In no dream does he actually die; rather, each scene has me rushing to action in one way or another. In the first, I pull him out and quickly put him on his side to see if he can drain some crap out of his lungs; when that doesn't work, I call 911 and start CPR. In the second, I throw my cell phone at a bystander and tell them to call 911 before I jump in the river after him, my shoddy swimming skillz be damned. As soon as I make my move, the dreams end, and I wake up, first horrified that my baby was drowning, then, realizing I am definitely not going back to sleep, wondering if that was really the right thing to do and trying to come up with a game plan, should such stupefyingly horrible things occur. In the wake of Katrina, I learned that our local Red Cross offers first aid and emergency training courses. Perhaps that should be written onto the family calendar, and soon.
posted by Claire at 6:12 PM
2 Comments:
Um, that's disturbing. I can relate though. I've had really horrible dreams from time to time about Mo. And in mine, she has died. It scares the crap out of me every time.
Yikes. I had some doozy dreams when I was pregnant with Liam - most of them seemed to indicate I was just overwhelmed or scared. Probably just your subconscious wanting you to prove you'll always be there for Isaac when the little guy comes. :)
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