I had a dream.
I was in labor at the birth center. All of a sudden, this tiny little baby just slipped out, and my midwife caught him and handed him to me. Instead of crying, he looked right at me and gave me this huge grin. He looked just like Charlie, blonde hair and all. It was such an amazing moment.
But he was tiny, only about two pounds or so, but perfectly healthy. We went to the hospital because the placenta wasn't coming out on its own. There were various friends and family there, and they'd brought Charlie along. Putting the two boys side by side was pretty much the happiest moment of my (dream) life. I was absolutely thrilled to reveal his name as well. For some reason we spent an inordinate amount of time at the hospital just trying to coordinate everything to remove the placenta. When I woke up, we still hadn't gotten the placenta out.
My mom told me yesterday that she dreamt about a tow-headed baby boy, so I wonder if this is her influence on me. Or maybe this is my body's way of telling me that there's another little boy on the way. (Squeeee!) I also have to wonder if the tiny baby was really Charlie, being as he looked just like him - perhaps teeny Charlie was meeting up with I-have-been-a-giant-since-the-beginning Charlie.
Whatever the case, I hope this doesn't mean that I'm going to have a preemie this time around. Or worse yet, a baby born too soon to make it. And I hope that if we do end up in the hospital (we are planning an out-of-hospital birth), it doesn't take that damn long to get the ball rolling. (But that part's pretty true to life, unfortunately.)
So that was my dream. I woke up smiling.
(Oh, and while this dream may seem pretty straightforward, I always welcome interpretations.)