Last night I dreamt that I was back home in Canada going to the church I used to attend when I was younger. I was planning to sing with the choir but twenty minutes before mass the choir director told me I needed to perform a flute solo because their flutist had come down with the flu and had called in last minute. I immediately began panicking because – while I did play flute for many years – I hadn’t picked it up in at least six years. I wasn’t even sure that I remembered all of the keys. I wasn’t really given a choice as to whether or not I wanted to play so I began reading over the music and practicing the best I could but I soon found out that not only did I not remember some of the keys, I couldn’t even recall how to read the music very well. I began to get visibly upset and about five minutes before I was to go on stage I ran up to the choir director with the intention of telling her that I would not be playing. Right as I was about to burst into tears I woke up.
I know what this dream was really representing.
Yesterday afternoon I admitted to my husband that I’m scared to death about giving birth, and that’s the truth. But I know that what is waiting for us on the other side of that is our baby, our family, and I try to focus on that. And even more so, I am trying to accept that it is perfectly normal for me to feel scared; “Bravery is the capacity to perform properly even when scared half to death.”