I had to wake Tom in the middle of the night because I really freaked myself out and began questioning my sanity.
I had a dream that our new baby had been born and was just minutes old, and there were two mangy hens running around in our kitchen which my mum had just rescued from a battery farm.
Tom, my mum and I were trying to catch them so that I could breastfeed them. We chased them round the table and then they ran outside into the mud and rain. I was despairing. I had never breastfed a hen before and not only am I scared of them at the best of times, I was terrified that during the breastfeed they would flap their wings in my face, make me muddy, peck me, or pass on some horrible germs to my precious baby.
Just before I woke up, thankfully it suddenly occurred to me, why do I need to breastfeed these pesky hens anyway? And with that I picked up my beautiful baby and shut the door on the hens. THE RELIEF.
4 comments:
Oh hell, those pregnancy hormones sure are kicking in!
At least you get to blame every mad thing you do on them for the next, ooo I don't know, 10 years?
I remember, whilst being pregnant first time round, having a dream about Boy #1 being born as a fully grown toddler and not doing a thing I asked him to... I really should try and make something of this ability as psychic, don't you think?
And Tara's right. You're not mad - just pregnant. Which is sometimes quite close to being mad, in my experience...
er... wasn't it you who blogged that you had dreamt that you had to breastfeed the entire royal family back when Betty was a baby? I'm sure it was you, it's one of my favourite blog posts of all time.
god i hate it when that happens, and take it from me, breastfeeding a hen is no mean feat.
Pigx
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