I was standing in front of a room full of people, presenting my latest project at work. I was wearing tan pants and I looked down to see bright red blood soaking through them. I tried to turn my body, hoped that no one saw it and continued on. As quickly as I could, without being obvious, I finished up and sat down in the back of the room as the meeting adjourned. Sitting back on my tail bone, not wanting any more blood to soak through. I was supposed to meet with a small team next, so I wrote to the organizer who was sitting next to me.
I can’t meet. I have to go home.
She knew me pretty well – considering I’d only been at the company a couple of months. She whispered back to me, asking what was wrong. I tried to not respond, but she was insistent. Finally, I wrote again.
I am pregnant and I’m bleeding. A lot.
I could tell she instantly regretted asking. I sat in the meeting, watching the final minutes of the meeting. As soon as the meeting was out, I positioned my notebook in front of my waist and rushed to the bathroom. This was the third week in a row that I’d had bleeding. I was 7 weeks pregnant and had already had two ultrasounds. I knew something wasn’t right with this pregnancy. As I observed the amount of blood and saw how much worse it was than the previous weeks, I tried to keep myself pulled together. Untucking my shirt to cover my pants, and finding a pad to keep it from getting too much worse, I rushed to my desk and put on my coat. My boss already knew I was pregnant, because I had to explain my pasts absences the two weeks prior. I just simply said, “I need to go.” He asked if I needed a ride. I said no and was off.
I had already been to the doctor twice, so I knew the drill. If I was miscarrying, they wouldn’t be able to stop it, so there was no point in going to the ER. I went home and cried all night. Kyle came home and held me. I was positive there was no way I could still be pregnant with all the blood I was still losing. I finally fell into a deep sleep, fatigued from all the crying.
As I slept, I dreamed in techno color. In the dream, I was holding Kellen and we looked down at a baby. A boy. He was nearly bald, with fine golden hair, I couldn’t tell if it was red or blonde. He looked much like Kellen had, but different. His head shape was slightly different and there was something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it – the baby was so still. Something wasn’t right. I had always felt he would come early, with the dream I knew he would…earlier than Kellen.
More than anything, I knew I was still pregnant. I like to think I’m a rationale person and that a dream is just a dream, but I knew that dream meant something. I was giddy on my way to the ultrasound the next morning. I think Kyle thought I was crazy to be in such a good mood after being so certain I’d miscarried less than 8 hours before. I nearly sang the words, “I’m still pregnant. It’s a boy and I saw him!” and I proceeded to describe the future Owen to Kyle.
As happy as it made me in the moment, that dream haunted me for the next 17 weeks of my pregnancy. There was something wrong. What was wrong? I kept replaying the dream in my head, watching him to see if he was breathing. I knew he would be born, but I wasn’t really sure if he was alive.
Only a few months later, I stood over Owen’s NICU bed with Kellen in my arms and I realized I was living the moment my dream predicted. The dream left out the ventilator and myriad of cords, but there lay a very still baby Owen while I faked calm for Kellen – searching for signs to see if he’d live.
I’m not sure of the purpose of that dream; if it was a warning or a way for my brain to start working on the unimaginable events to come, or just an odd coincidence, but it seems I’m not alone. I’ve heard of so many others who had premonitions…did you? What did the premonition mean to you and how do you think doctors and patients should differentiate between normal pregnancy jitters and true intuition?