Let me start this post by saying that I am neither pregnant nor do I want more children.

I have been having recurring dreams of a son. Not wishes, but actual dreams. The first time I dreamt of him, I was so confused and upset. In the dream, I was in a college dorm room. There were two beds, with identical girls sitting on them. They were thin with short hair, kinda like Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby. They were nothing like my girls are now, which likely means my kids will rebel against their long wild hair someday. In the dream, I didn't realize that I was old. I thought, oh, this is college. These are my friends. And in walks the most fabulous young man I have ever ever seen.

He is so lovely, a little taller than me, stocky like a bulldog. He has blonde hair and a scruffy round face. He looks so much like Anya that I want to kiss his cheek. He walks in and owns the room and I appreciate this. I feel almost proud of this. This extreme confidence.

Then I notice that my mother is there. This is strange. He walks up to her first and hugs her. This confuses me more. How does this young man know my mother? My first reaction is that he must be my boyfriend. He knows my mother, who else could he be? That this dream is about me in college. But who are the girls?

He looks at me with twinkley eyes and he kisses my cheek. He smells like someone who plays tennis. I take his face in my hands and tell him he smells like a man. To this he laughs big. Then I notice that under his vintage newsboy cap, he has cut his hair. I take it off and comment on it. Not judging, but commenting. He is all laughing eyes, like my grandfather.

He points to the girls on the dorm beds, who are sitting as if in suspended animation and asks, "How are the exchange students?" We are wicked, this is our inside joke about these girls. We are a team against them and this makes him very happy.

In the dream, I love the round face boy more than anything in the world. The first time I woke from dreaming of him, I was really upset. It took me half a day to realize who he was. He wasn't my boyfriend, he was my son! This made so much sense once I figured it out. So much sense.

Now, I do not plan on more kids. I feel very strongly that another child would take resources from my girls. That I am already stretched thin. That I couldn't possibly financially or emotionally afford another child. And who is to say this boy would ever exist? Jeff and I say that our luck we would get the child who would ruin our old age if we had another. You know, the crack smoking, baby having girl who tries to kill you in your sleep. :) Or like on Jon and Kate Plus 8, we try for one more kid and get 6. I just couldn't chance this at all. I don't want more kids, but I think of the round faced boy often.

Why do dreams create fully formed people who seem so real that they could actually exist? Do they exist in some other universe? I would be happy just to know he exists somewhere. That he has a loving alternate me and Mia Farrow sisters. That he is confident and laughs big.