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Issue One: Change
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In my dreams, I give birth without laboring.  This is the way it happens: I become aware of some movement in my belly, look down, and notice a slight bulge.  At this first clue of pregnancy, I reach between my thighs and pull a perfectly formed full term black haired baby out of my body.  I marvel at this girl, how she could come to grow to this size when I didn't know I was pregnant until the instant before. 

I didn't choose to be pregnant--this dreamchild has come to me on her own, after a gestation which was quiet until it became urgent. She moves inside me, asks to be born, affirms my fertility, and is absorbed into the world.  Then, a year or a day later, in another dream, another girl is born to me the same way. 

In these dreams, I'm not attached to my babies.  It's not my job to raise them, just to birth them.  They have lives of their own. These dark haired girls are more like eggs than babies. They form and are released to their potential, their lives a dark glamour.

I have long been aware of ovulating, the sudden stab could stop me halfway across a street, make me gasp, and then announce "I just ovulated."  I felt the power in this personal mystery and knew that there was no prescribed response to a woman who has just done something so creative merely by having been born female.  

When we are born, our ovaries are filled with all the children we could ever have, waiting in line to come through.  For almost forty years, my eggs have patiently taken turns presenting themselves, asking to come to life. All of these eggs have passed through me unfertilized.  Just one child would have redeemed the lost potential of all those eggs. 

I'm now in the phase of life where I may feel the sharp poke of ovulation and the slow rise of a hot flash in the same day, both reminders from my creative center, of my role as a creator. There will be no children, yet my ovaries still demand recognition.  I recently had a dream speak to me  about the health of my ovaries.   

The message was this: I owe each egg a voice.  There is a story attached to every one of the four hundred I have released.  It is not my job to know their future, it is just my job to birth them and release them to their potential, like my dreambabies.