Ever have an activity you perform repeatedly throughout the day that it reaches the point where your sub-conscious begins to reenact the same task?
The other night, or maybe it was the wee, newest hours of morning, I’m lying in bed and my son’s head is resting on my shoulder. I have woken up slightly upset, or maybe I had caught myself before nodding off, because I cannot fall asleep with a newborn on top of me–He must be in his crib beside the bed. I just finished feeding him and am fighting the fatigue of a long, at some points wailing, night. My husband should be in at any moment to take our son and swaddle him, lay him down for a couple hours sleep, hopefully a couple hours. I knew my husband would be in shortly because based on my biological clock it is near time to feed our son again. That’s right; I am expecting my husband to be bringing in a quieted newborn for me to begin feeding. About this point, I am nearing full awareness. Completely roused, I realize there is no weight on my shoulder, no warmth from an infantile head. It was a dream, and in the process of waking, my mind convinced me I had concluded another session of feeding.
And so, on cue, in steps my husband with our son cradled in his hands, holding him near his chest and I knew. Having just finished a mental round, it was time to perform the real thing. Climbing out of bed, I set to task. Once accomplished, following burping and soothing, swaddling and settling our son onto his mattress, I climbed back into bed.
Waking again around the two- to three- hour mark, my arms were propping my body out of bed as I swung my legs over the edge, groggily making my way out to prepare for another feed. Along the way, I thought, hadn’t I just finished feeding him?
In my dreams.
[After further reflection on the matter, I’ve pondered alternative explanations and reached one which could turn into a meaty plot line. :)]