Monkey +
I had another dream about the baby. This time I’m freewriting straight into the post. The baby was blond haired and very like S. Nothing like me. It was a girl but like a boy or was it a boy like a girl? In any case the monkey has stuck with me. The elasticity. The strength and physicality. Someone asked me if I’d had strange dreams which was a symptom of pregnancy – and I said ‘no’ – then the very next night I had one, and then another consecutively. (Pregnancy has ‘symptoms’: interesting – is it partially in our consciousness as some kind of dis-ease?) Anyway: I need to keep that brute physicality in mind. It was frightening – or fascinating. The blond baby was also intriguing. I want green eyes so I want the baby to have green eyes. But you need green to get green apparently. Brown and blue won’t do it. S and the baby were alike. I felt a bit left out. The baby was older. Could sit up. It was however human! So I’m thankful for small mercies. It’s late now. Over and out.
Tags: baby, birth, dreams, free write, Karen McCarthy Woolf, monkey