Waiting
Should I redownload Hinge or pay an internet witch to do a spell for me?
I am a single woman in Los Angeles and, while I am doing heart-opening rituals more often than anyone needs to, I don’t see that changing anytime soon, because I am comfortable. Maybe one more heart-opening spell will get me to choose to change, but because at present I have no serious suitors, and as I tell my doctor each time I see her for a Wellbutrin checkup, there is no way I could be pregnant right now.
I am house sitting this summer for my friend, and there is an internet router underneath the bed I’m sleeping in, so I’ve been laying my head directly over it every night and am having what I can only describe as wifi dreams. I dreamt that I was nine months pregnant with his child.
In my dream it was August 12th, my due date was August 14th, and I was at my OB GYN's office. She removed the entirety of my vulva from my body with a surgical blade (it didn’t hurt) and then immediately sewed it back on, to “prepare for the baby’s arrival.” When I asked why we did this two days before I was due, she said “I dunno!” and when I asked what happens when I have to pee, she said, “I don’t know, I didn’t think about that.”
I took my Frankenstein vulva home, to my friend who was my husband, and he was with my OB GYN, who had somehow beat me to my house. The two of them were too concentrated on coordinating the transport of the center of the Knicks to LA to deliver our child with Brad Pitt to notice me. I exploded in a rage at my partner’s frivolity and screamed that I had just had “my p***y ripped off!” but also I did find it charming because I love when men have interests. I stomped away and belly flopped into bed (it didn’t hurt) and decided to panic about my impending motherhood. I worried I was too young and that I didn’t have enough fun as an adult, and I wished I’d had more time to spend married to my friend/dream husband, and, above all else, I was not happy that my child was going to be a Leo.
In the physical world, my child-rearing plans involve birthing a Scorpio child under the Taurus full moon. If everything goes my way, the order of the first things she will see on earth are:
The moon
Me
Herself, with a mirror
Her father, whoever he may be1
I was not only upset that my child was going to be a Leo, but that my child’s birth wouldn’t have even been on the 13th, giving them a chance to have a Friday the 13th birthday. To me, in this dream, August 14th was the most boring birthday my child could have, and I was deeply frustrated by that permanence. Although this is not my worst-case scenario2, if my child is a Leo I worry that we will not understand each other. I love them from afar, but I do not understand Leos and I am deeply afraid of a reality where my child and I do not understand each other as my parents and I did not understand each other.
I started dating men at age 26, and the more I date them the closer I get to the understanding that I want a family, and the idea that that may include a child. The older I get the more I understand my friends who I had previously written off as neurotic for feeling like they’re running out of time to be in love. I do only have a certain amount of biological time left before my birthing plan becomes impossible. I know that so much of this is just trusting that I’ll get what I want, but also what if I paid an internet witch $222 to put a man in front of me who I can really love? That’s less than the cost of a year on Raya.
This is the second pregnancy dream I have had this summer. The first one happened about three weeks before this one, and I was four months pregnant in that dream. As I write this it’s past August 14th and I can’t help but wonder3 what it was that I gave birth to last week. I’m sending this out on the Aquarius full moon, and because full moons are about releasing, I’m sending with it my fear of motherhood, my fear of not being a mother, and of not having a Scorpio daughter, out into the ether.
Bless his heart.
A Libra.
incredible