Dreaming in Infertility

A few days ago I woke up in a panic. I dreamt that DH left me because he met someone else. We were living in an apartment that is not where we live. We didn't have a dog. It wasn't our furniture. In short, nothing about the dream was realistic--except that I was thinking, in the back of my dream-brain, so who gets the embryos? It's like when you learn another language and you start dreaming in that language--I'm dreaming in infertility.

Anyway, as much as I try not to, when I wake up from these dreams I can't help but feel a little pissed at DH. It's a dream. I mean, I'm awake. And yet I wake up thinking, You bastard, how could dream-you do this to me?

But it did get me thinking. In all the stuff I find myself caught up in, I don't often think, Wow, I am so lucky not to have a lying, cheating scumbag of a husband. (Actually, he's much more than that. He's a loving, supportive, funny, smart, wonderful partner, who I can wake up when I have these dreams to hug me and assure me that no, he is not going anywhere.) I am lucky to have an adorable Bolivian street mutt, a group of great friends, a really amazing family. In short, a good life.

It may not be enough, but it's something that deserves acknowledgement, and I fail to give it too often. Until the lying, cheating, scumbag of a dream-husband enters my world to remind me things could be a lot worse.