The Finish Line

My name is Melody and I am a frequent blog and Facebook stalker. I have noticed many of my friends/acquaintances posting about their dreams towards the end of the pregnancies: some talk dreaming they are holding their baby and drop it, others talk about giving birth to pigs or other animals, some even talk about swimming in pools of food. I haven't had any dreams about going into labor, or giving birth, or even having a baby in my home.

Am I a very vivid dreamer? Yes (even without the pregnancy hormones). Am I typically an emotional person? Yes, most of the Martins are but I prefer to use the word passionate.

Last night I had a pregnancy dream. It was so intense. So real. So perfect.

The weather was warm, the sun was shining, and I was 33 weeks pregnant and running a race. I don't know if I was the only person in the race, or if I was really slow, but I would look around and see nothing but landscape; no other runners around. Although I was 33 weeks pregnant, I wasn't winded or cramping, but I remember being really tired. SO. TIRED. At one point I wanted to sit down and out of no where Scott comes running up beside me. "You can't sit down. You are almost there". I started to cry and I saw this HUGE hill (more like a a mountain) in front of me. My pace slowed, "Scott, I can't do it. Its too big and I'm too tired. I'm too sick. My body can't take it. I have been running for four years and I'm exhausted" (Side note: The four years probably refers to the date of our first miscarriage, November 2007; and Boki is expected to arrive in November 2011). He looked at me and said "I know, but you are almost there. You can make it." So... Scott and I run up this mountain and my legs are killing me, my breathing is out of control, I'm dizzy, there is a glucose meter on belt flashing "TOO HIGH". I am almost at the top of the mountain and see a white banner, but it is what is past the banner that takes my breath away. Standing behind the finish line was EVERYONE: all my friends from high school, friends from college, our home group, past Bible Studies, our families (parents, siblings, aunts, uncles cousins), even family members that have gone on to be with the Lord (Frank, Goodie, Cooper). EVERYONE. I wanted to stop, I was in so much pain. I look at Scott and said "I've been running for four years, I can't do it anymore". He smiles and says "Finish strong. We are all waiting for you." I cross the finish line and everything is blur. I don't collapse, I actually feel great! There is a constant embrace of friends and family and I just start crying.... Not tears of sadness or exhaustion, but tears of completion. I sit down on the ground and just cry. As I am just surrounded by hugs and kisses, this shadowed person walks up to me. I'm not scared, but I can't make out of of this person's features, but they are holding a white blanket shaped like a box. "Well done" the person says and as I go to open the blanket....

... and my alarm clock goes off. Figures. No boy or girl prophecy here.

Here we are at 33 weeks. One last mountain to climb. Seven more weeks. So tired, so much seems stacked against us, but bring it. Finish strong.