I began having dreams that I would be pregnant at 42. They were very clear dreams: I was telling people that it was amazing that I was pregnant because I was 42. I told Jake, the man that I was seeing, about the dreams, and he didn’t think it was a problem because we were going to be together “forever” and he had always wanted a child. I started to wonder what was going on when my period was late, but I made the suggestion that I was potentially approaching menopause so who knows. Shortly after, my eldest son’s friend spent the night, got up in the morning, and announced that he had had a dream that I was pregnant. Rose was 13 at the time and got very upset. ‘Go get a pregnancy test right now!” she screamed. I got one shortly after, and it was positive.
When I was five or six months pregnant, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw a pastel rainbow shaft of light in the middle of the room. I wondered how it had appeared there since there were no windows that would have let light that far into the room. I sensed that it was my father leaving and wondered if he was recycling into my unborn son. We are not, but we should all be aware that the soul does not enter the body until the fetus is viable. Uncertainty plagues the beginning of a pregnancy, but now my son was inhabited by a soul and ready to meet the world again in a few months.
A few years later, Rose went to India. When she came back, she couldn’t see Dr. James. “He’s gone,” she said. I told her that he had been gone for a few weeks and wondered if my brother and his wife would be told that a baby was theirs to adopt. About a week later they were notified that there was a baby girl on her way. They got a divorce a few years later, and his wife moved to another state. The funny thing is that I now live in the same house as my brother, the house that Dr. James built and we grew up in, and when his little girl visits, she is very proprietary about this house. “It’s MY house,” she loudly announces upon her arrival.
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