I've just woken up from dreaming the first several years of my unborn child's life (I'm 14+3 with my first) in glorious Technicolour.
Firstly, he (for the moment he's a he) pops out like a cork, and I barely notice. We then snuggle up on the sofa, where I promptly forget about him. A few hours later, I realise I should probably feed him or something, so I get my tits out. He suckles a bit, then DH and I notice he has a terrible rash, so we rush to A&E.
DH (Spanish IRL) decides the best hospital is in Wales, so we drive there. From Madrid. DS is rushed off by Drs. I am convinced the Drs will know I forgot to feed him. My family in law come too, but are somehow Indian, and are talking about their memories of Partition. My SIL pisses me off, so I smash a glass of water over her head.
Fast forward a few years. DH and DS, who is now DD, have moved to the Welsh countryside for a simpler life because I AM DEAD. DS bears an uncanny resemblance to a kid I saw last night on Masterchef. They are happy. I wake up, still pissed off.
Anyone want to share their whacko pregnancy dreams?