While trying to decide on what to write about today, I thought it was time to go back to 1987 and continue my story of life in West Germany.  As I was reading, I started to notice a pattern of very strange dreams.  I love that I wrote them down, and some have lots of details.  At the time, though technically still married, my marriage was over.  Also, to protect the ‘innocent’ or at least not name names, I will use initials, and where people have the same initial, though not the same names, I will use letters and numbers.  I don’t know how else to do it without flat-out changing the names, and then I have to keep track of who is who, and that is just too much trouble.

12 November 1987

I had a horrible dream last night.  I dreamed that I was pregnant with D1’s baby.  D2 had a girlfriend, and he guessed that D1 was who I had been sleeping with.  I never did tell him that I was going to have a baby.  I’m not sure if D1 knew or not.  A lot more went on in the dream but I can’t explain it.  Anyway, I had a really tough time waking up from it this morning.  It was like I was trapped in theorem and couldn’t escape.  Kind of like my life right now.  Except that I am not pregnant.  I just remembered thinking while I was dreaming that even though it was awful timing to be pregnant, I knew that D1 would pay for the hospital and everything since it was his baby.

19 November 1987

I had the most horrible dream last night.  J died.  And I had to tell everyone.  It was awful.  I woke up dripping wet around my neck.  I had to change my nightgown, that’s how wet it was.  What a terrible dream.  Then I dreamed that she had cut all her hair off at D3’s last night.  She came home this morning with a haircut kind of like L’s and with her curls in her arms.  She is not home yet, so I hope neither of these dreams are true.  I’m so tempted to call her to make sure…Okay, I just called and she is fine, not dead, and she didn’t cut her hair.  What a relief!

25 November 1987

I had such a weird dream this morning.  In the beginning it was J and D3 and me and D1. I have no idea where we were.  I’m not sure what J and D3 were doing, but D1 and I were rolling around on the floor, kissing.  Then we were sitting, talking, with a glass partion between us.  It wasn’t solid though, and I kept sticking my feel under it and he was kissing them.  Then this woman came and told us we were too old to be there.  D1 tried to tell her that we were 12 and 14, but she didn’t believe him.  D1 went out the back side and disappeared.  I decided to go and find J and D3.  I went to the other side of the mall (it looked like Yorktown) to the restaurant I thought they were in.  K, D4, my mother, G, and B were there.  I asked K if she had seen J and D3.  No one knew where they were, though.  K was 5 months pregnant.  It was really weird though because the baby was on the outside.  K and D4 didn’t know if they really wanted this baby.  The baby had blonde hair and blue eyes and freckles.  It was so pretty.  It could also talk.  Anyway, K and D4 were crying because they didn’t know what to do.  I was crying because I wanted a baby.  Mother was crying because everyone else was.  I’m not sure why B was there or why he was crying.  Mother asked me what was wrong.  I told her that I wanted a baby really badly.  She told me that I didn’t have to cry because D2 and I could have one of our own.  I wanted to tell her that, no, we couldn’t because we were going to be having divorce soon, but I couldn’t say it.  Then I woke up because I was crying.

Okay, so back to the present.  The really ironic thing was while I kept dreaming about being pregnant, I actually was pregnant.  But I did not know it until I had a miscarriage.  I was on the Pill and I NEVER missed taking one.  I did tell D1 and he was bummed.  Over the years, when he would send me a postcard from some far-flung locale, he would always mention it, usually by saying something like, ‘I hope you’re taking good care of our son.’  Luckily, I had a mother who was very respectful of my privacy and would not even read a postcard if it wasn’t addressed to her.  Still, every time I’d read a comment like that, it would take me back to Hamburg and I’d wonder how things might have turned out differently had I not lost that baby.