High-Risk Pregnancy Anxiety Turns into Nightmares

I’ve always had very vivid dreams, ones that are clichés in how they reveal what I’m struggling with in my waking life.  Being a Catholic girl, my feeling-out-of-control dreams have been ones in which the devil taunts me, for no one can help me when I’m tormented by the devil, not the police nor my husband.  Now that I’m worried about my pregnancy, for I lost one of my twin sons a week and a half ago, my pregnancy anxieties have invaded my dreams.

Two nights ago, I dreamt that a female doctor was giving me an ultrasound, then inserted her hand into my uterus, into my son’s gestational sac, to touch him, to move his left knee, as I watched her manipulate him on the ultrasound screen.   

I knew that this was ridiculously dangerous, that she was assuring his loss by penetrating his home in my womb. 

I screamed and yelled and accused. 

I demanded the ultrasound results on tape so that I had proof of what she’d done to my baby.

Then, pointing to the image still on the screen, she showed me what she thought was his tail…

At this exact moment of horror, my 4-year-old son yelled for me, so I woke up.  And, I know that I likely only remember this dream because of the timing, because my son woke me out of it. 

But, it shows what it’s like to live with a high-risk pregnancy. 

How there is no peace. 

Neither day nor night.

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