I had lots of dreams featuring fuzzy little baby diapers. That is no wonder. I've dreamed of massaging backs and collapsing in ecstasy onto someone's dark smooth skin. That doesn't confuse me in the least. Last night in my dreams, there were two other pregnant women, the three of us each carried two babies in our wombs, and it was up to me to find the right place for everyone to give birth. I drove a plane, getting out of an unsafe place at the last minute, but, it was too late for the births, I had to turn around and come back to a bedroom, that was mine, but borrowed, with a second hand mattress on the floor, old blankets, and although it seemed like the perfect place, a place where they would be comfortable, now we had to wait. To wait for that comfort to incorporate itself into their bodies so labor could begin.
No news is not good news in case of visa processing, and I wonder how long this thing is going to sit around someone's office. The Embassy is only accepting calls on the matter for two hours a day. Meaning I have to set my alarm for 4am if I want to try to get through. Sounds like the type of phone call that one spends long distance rates to wait on hold. I just want to know the estimated processing time. What can I begin to work on?
My doctor's office doesn't want to treat me because ( just found out) I have an outstanding bill for part of an office visit that wasn't covered by Peace Corps. The REST of the visit was covered, but Peace Corps claims that I wasn't covered at that time. My current insurance, under the Department of Labor states that the cover anything pregnancy related. But the hospital and doctor say they don't approve any services until they are billed. The doctors say they need approval in order to treat, and then they bill.
Kind of an insurance catch-22. One that leaves me, walking into my doctors office, to be treated like a trouble maker.
Just to make things easier.
So, maybe my dream was another prophetic one for the pregnancy.
I cry and I picture where I would really be happy. In Tino's arms, in his mountain house in Moshi, with his mother and sister-in-law (also due soon) there to support me.
I don't even look pregnant with this High School Sweatshirt of mine.
Reminds me of the girls who really had it tough, like the 15 year old honor student, who no one knew was pregnant until she gave birth in the school bathroom. She is being tried for manslaughter. Abortion wasn't allowed without parental consent, and she was afraid of her parents.
