I had a nightmare. One of my worst.
I dreamed someone gave me a baby to take care of. A boy, named Michael.
And I forgot about him... Every once in a while, I would remember that there was a baby upstairs that I needed to take care of. So I would go hunt and find him under the crib or the couch. But I would put him down and go off and do something else.
Then, at some point, it dawned on me that THERE WAS A BABY in the house!
I ran upstairs, freaking out that this poor baby had been so neglected under my care. I found him, picked him up, and realized that there was nothing in the house for him to eat except 1 jar of baby food, which of course he couldn't eat as a newborn. So I made up my mind to take him to the nearest superstore for some food and another set of clothes, when I realized I didn't have a way to take him with me. No baby carrier. I sat and cried in my dream because I couldn't decide which was worse: to continue to let him starve, or put him in more danger by driving to the store with him laying in the passenger seat.
Thankfully, I woke up. But I've been plagued with "What-if's" ever since.
What if the dream was a message?
What if IF has happened because I would actually be a terrible mother?
What if IF has happened because, despite my desire to have kids, I've never looked forward to pregnancy?
What if IF has happened because I joked too many times about another man with straight hair fathering my children?
What if IF has happened because deep in the back of my mind, I hoped my babies wouldn't inherit my husband's dark eye circles?
What if I am too shallow to be a mother, because of these thoughts?
What if I just don't deserve children?
What if I never have children?