When I was pregnant with my first child, I had the same dream several times. I was walking up the stairs in my house, and I went into the baby’s bedroom. When I leaned over the crib to pick up my baby, I found my cat in the crib instead.
It sounds like a weird dream, but I adore my cat and I believe my brain was trying to simulate what it would be like to love something and feel motherly toward it, trying to flash forward to having a little person I was responsible for, and so it substituted the nearest thing that would fit the bill at the time: my cat, my favorite pet.
So last night I had a dream my husband died. And when I buried him, I buried my high-end coffeemaker with him. And then I was stuck with a second-rate coffeemaker in my kitchen, and I was standing there brewing with an inferior coffeemaker, smelling the inferior ground beans, and I was sobbing because I’d lost my beloved coffeemaker.
My brain, in trying to envision the loss and pain I’d feel if my husband died, decided to substitute the coffeemaker to simulate that sort of grief.
I … think it might be time to step away from the caffeine.