Recurring Baby Dreams

I hate when dreams show me somthing that I know mean the opposite of what I want them to mean. Tell me if you think this is true...

I have been having copious amounts of dreams about babies. In real life, all my friends are having babies, and althought logically I know I am not ready to have children, nor does my boyfriend even "want" children ever, I can't help but feel jelous. I love children and illogically want a baby desperately! Anyhow. My dreams have been as follows...

1>I give birth, it's painless and wonder full. But later I can't remember my little boys name and get really upset about it.

2>I am at a cookout type party and am holding my baby. A little girl, she is about a year. I am thinking she is already showing signs of being like her father.

3>I'm holding a friends baby.

4>I am in a church and my boyfriend is with our eldest daughter of 8. I am sitting in a pew with our son, around 6 and I have a newborn. I need to breastfeed but am embarassed to do so in a church. I look at my baby, she is sooo tiny and beautiful.

So...from what I've read baby's mean new beginnings. But since I have this waking life "issue" with babies, could it be just a manifestation of that?

Opinions? I know I know...only I know what it really means=P

I guess I'll reply to my own post. I think it just has to do with what I've been thinking about lately. Yup.

I'm sorry you haven't gotten any replies, I think it's just that the Interpretation section is still pretty new, so it has yet to get really big and replies are slow. I'm honestly no expert in the area, I've only Interpreted a few dreams of my own...but I think you're right, I think you probably just have these dreams because it's something you want and (most likely) daydream and think about alot. I wouldn't rely on what some dream dictionary says.

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Originally posted by suorkaterina
I hate when dreams show me somthing that I know mean the opposite of what I want them to mean. *Tell me if you think this is true...

I have been having copious amounts of dreams about babies. *In real life, all my friends are having babies, and althought logically I know I am not ready to have children, nor does my boyfriend even \"want\" children ever, I can't help but feel jelous. *I love children and illogically want a baby desperately! *Anyhow. *My dreams have been as follows...

1>I give birth, it's painless and wonder full. But later I can't remember my little boys name and get really upset about it.

2>I am at a cookout type party and am holding my baby. *A little girl, she is about a year. *I am thinking she is already showing signs of being like her father.

3>I'm holding a friends baby.

4>I am in a church and my boyfriend is with our eldest daughter of 8. *I am sitting in a pew with our son, around 6 and I have a newborn. *I need to breastfeed but am embarassed to do so in a church. *I look at my baby, she is sooo tiny and beautiful.

So...from what I've read baby's mean new beginnings. *But since I have this waking life \"issue\" with babies, could it be just a manifestation of that? *

Opinions? *I know I know...only I know what it really means=P

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Yes, to me, a dream of a Baby would be a New Beginning. But in your case these dream babies are satisfying your need to feel maternal -- to love and be loved by little babies.

It reminds me of an Athropology Professor I had almost 50 years ago... that was back when there had still been Primitive People's out in the World to study as though still in their natural and traditional elements. Anyway, he told us that they young pre-adulescent girls as well as the pubesant girls who had not yet married used to beg to 'baby-sit', to watch the babies of their older sisters -- anything to even touch the babies. And the girls too young for that, they would make 'dolls' out of leaves and sticks.

Our culture of Romanticism pretends that the object women seek most is a fulfilling sexual relationship with a man. It does sell a lot of books and nearly every movie from Hollywood to Bollywood covers the same theme. But from my personal experience with women, nothing compares to their urge to be mothers, and the love of a mother for her child eclipses any feeling she could have for her husband, no matter how strong. If a City Bus were about to run over her child and the only way she could save it would be to throw her beloved husband in the way to jam up the wheels, there would not be a moments hesitation. Indeed, fathers also come to find to their surprise that they can become so fond of their children. It is not uncommon that a man can be almost entirely self-centered his entire life just to find that upon becoming a father, to quiet an insistent wife, that he suddenly really cares for another life. The love of a Parent for a Child goes way beyond any love of a spouse for a spouse.

The Hindus had some insight into this. Where the silly Sufis and even the Jews of the Poems of Solomon constantly used the metaphor of sexuality to express the Mystics' love for God, the Hindus were able to supply the more persuasive metaphor of the Gopi's Love for the Infant Krishna. To them it was obvious that the most intense Love on earth was that of young women for babies. The Catholic Tradition would pick this up and during the Golden Age of Christendom we would not have one single instance of an Apparition of an Adult Christ, but again and again and again Christ would appear with His Mother Mary as the Beloved Infant.

Your dreams are bringing you the greatest love you will ever know.

It makes sence that the love of a mother for her child would be the strongest. After all, the survival of the human race depends on it's children growning up safely and that means constant supervision and love from it's parents.

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Originally posted by suorkaterina
It makes sence that the love of a mother for her child would be the strongest. *After all, the survival of the human race depends on it's children growning up safely and that means constant supervision and love from it's parents.

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It is surprising how powerful 'parental' love can be, even in a male. For instance, for more than a week now one of the outdoor feral cats that go to my feeding station has been unable to eat. Her snout was all dripping with discharge, and I did not think she would last long. She had not been a favorite cat... indeed, I almost hated her because she was very aggressive -- a Alpha, but not in a good leadership way, but only in the sense that she would dominate the other cats in order that she might eat first, even though she was a small thing, but she was able to demand respect out of pure and unmitigated meaness and nastiness. I frankly did not like her.

But watching her suffer was not pleasant for me. My first suspicion that something was wrong occurred when she was hopping over a utility trench, she inadvertantly fell in, which made me laugh. A clumsy cat! But then it occurred to me that Alpha Cats are never clumsy -- the other cats would not let them get away with their Dominance if they sensed even a hint of dysfunctionality or athletic inability. So my laugh was cut short by wondering what her problem might have been.

She couldn't eat. Every day she got thinner. And then she began following me around. She would walk away from the food and follow me with imploring little cries for help. But I could do nothing. One cannot simply pick up a feral and take them to the doctor -- they refuse to be caught... they are quite wild.

But yesterday, it finally occurred to me, when I was telling her she had not long to live and so I would sit with her and sing her songs and show her some human kindness before the darkness would descend upon her and close her eyes for ever more... it occurred to me that in growing so weak that she migyht die, the opportunity would arise of my finally being able to catch her and take her to the Doctors. So i found a small rope and made a small Cowboy lasso out of it and started throwing the loop at her head. Well, it is almost as though she wanted to be caught, because she came back after every time I missed.

You know what? It turned out that she had only caught a big bone in her teeth. No poisonous toads. No antifreeze poisoning. A simple bone.

It was hard to believe how happy that made me -- that a cat I hated would not die.

And what was the Dynamic of this Happiness? it was that the little thing had implored my help... that it had followed me around asking for my assistance. Indeed, it was able to acquire the benefits of the mobilization of my Love simply by asking for it -- persistently, to be sure. But what does this show but some great new level of Symbiotic Love that goes beyond parental love, or even the survival of the Species, to one in which we can approach the ideal of Loving all Living Things.