Dream About Labor Pangs meanings

Dreaming with Labor Pangs may be related to...

Dream Examples

Example: I dreamed I was in labor!?

I dreamed last night that I was in labor but am not pregnant. The doctor told me as my pangs were coming that my body was making way for the baby's face to come through.

i am not pregnant, what is the significance? Could i be on the verge of something huge? spiritual rebirth? what is the meaning?

Pregnancy is an act of creation and so is a very old metaphor and symbol for the creative process in general. Labor is the process of giving birth to a creation and usually signifies the difficulty and work required to finally birth the fruits of our creative abilities. You must be working on something or having some creative or business ideas you'd like to pursue and are struggling to see it to fruition? Or you are needing a change in a more creative direction maybe.

Example: What is up with my baby Flynn Taylor dream?

So I had this dream last night that has kind of creeped me out. So this is how it goes

So the dream starts, I'm in my high school, like 8 months pregnant, but I'm barely showing because I'm chubby and I'm now looking pregnant a lil bit. It's night time and I'm at some event when I see my friends Christie , we start talking when all of a sudden my water breaks. And I'm like Christie my water just broke and she's like what, and I'm like yeah I'm 8 months pregnant and my water just broke, and now some people are like "omg a pregnant teen in labor". So for some reason I walk home which takes me like 5 minutes even though it would really take me 2hours, and I start contraction. Which I found weird because I truely felt my water breaking and the contractions as if it was real. So somehow I end up back in school during the day within seconds and people are finding out including teachers who a surprised and kind of happy which is strange because that's not a reaction I would expect. So I'm getting contractions, when my parents show up.so they explain to people how it's going to be a girl and they are naming it Flynn Taylor and how they will raise it while I go to college, which is bullshit because in real life they would kick me out of the house. So I leave school get in the car to go to the hospital when we go on this highway that I already know because I already had a dream about it. It's this really nice highway with a bright sun, no clouds palm trees, I had a really painful contraction then I woke up.

So I don't know if I had the pain in real life and they manifested as contractions in the dream. So this dream isnt like some completely random bs dream because somethings make sense. I've always wanted to be a mom and get pregnant. Flynn is the first part of the name of our schools clothing company. All the people and places, beside the highway, are real.

So what does this mean? Please tell me!

Example: How does my Poem Really sound?RATE IN PERCENTAGE.. It''s not an exact poem buT RATHER MY FEELINGS EXPRESSED?

I use 2 Dream

I use 2 Dream of a day u'd come and Tell me how it seemeD

I use 2 Dream of a day u'd come back to lift me up as i slowly hug bAck

The day u'd Be next to me through good n through bad

I use 2 Dream
yeh [I U 2 D]

I never stopped Dreaming

Cos i always Had Dreams of ThaT i'd never be forgettn

yeah I always kept u Handed as i walK aln wf my Heart unMENDED

I always waiteD n WaiteD for u 2 come back to me
Even with HatreD

I've Always DreameD

I've always DreameD u'd come back To me Later

But i never really Had Hate asthou my Faith came on late

I useD to Dream of the good not the bad

I was too blind To seE u Coming

I was too then blind to See u come up 2 cut me as i WaiteD for u partly

I never saw u cut through

I never saw it alL cos i Was blindeD by Somthng Tall

I never Saw it come no not at alL

i guess i was blind 2 Dream of such perfection

I used to Dream

I mean Maybe u were a sweet dream maybe a niGHTmare Either way

I useD 2 Dream

As i stilL am!

Example: Wouldn''t it all make sense only if Christianity was the Devil''s work?

Just let's recap what Christianity does for mankind. Mostly promoting lies:
-intelligent design.
-Creationism, Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden.
-Noah and the ark.
-Moses.
-Jesus.
-The Earth as the fixed center of the universe.
-The concept of sin attached to natural phenomena: homosexuality as a sin.
Also making people feel guilty, sad, for imaginary causes, or like Nietzsche puts it "under Christianity neither morality nor religion has any point of contact with actuality. It offers purely imaginary causes ("God" "soul," "ego," "spirit," "free will"−−or even "unfree"), and purely imaginary effects ("sin" "salvation" "grace," "punishment," "forgiveness of sins"). Intercourse between imaginary beings ("God," "spirits," "souls"); an imaginary natural history (anthropocentric; a total denial of the concept of natural causes); an imaginary psychology (misunderstandings of self, misinterpretations of agreeable or disagreeable general feelings−−for example, of the states of the nervous sympathicus with the help of the sign−language of religio−ethical balderdash−−, "repentance," "pangs of conscience," "temptation by the devil," "the presence of God"); an imaginary teleology (the "kingdom of God," "the last judgment," "eternal life").−−This purely fictitious world, greatly to its disadvantage, is to be differentiated from the world of dreams; the later at least reflects reality, whereas the former falsifies it, cheapens it and denies it. Once the concept of "nature" had been opposed to the concept of "God," the word "natural" necessarily took on the meaning of "abominable"−−the whole of that fictitious world has its
sources in hatred of the natural."-- F.Nietzsche.

Example: Please Please Please read this and tell me what you think!?

Honestly and no sparing my feelings. And sorry for the way it's set up. I don't know how else to do it. Here it is:


I just wanted someone to take me away. Somewhere far away. To a place where I was no longer Millie Quinn. To a place where I could be carefree and happy. To a place where broken hearts didn’t exist and smiles were the dress code. But of course, no one was going to rescue me from my personal Hell. This was my life and short of killing myself (which was out of the question), there was nothing I could do about it.
A month ago, I was a normal teenager. I was a junior in high school with oodles of friends. I had a great family including the best parents and a kid sister that was pretty terrific when she put her mind to it. I was even close to having my first boyfriend. This totally dreamy guy named Peter. I wasn’t brilliant but my grades were pretty good and I had a promising talent in writing. Stories, of course. I was born with a highly developed imagination and I was forever jotting down ideas and snippets of scenes that played out in my head. I wanted to be a writer so bad I could taste it. The next J.K. Rowling or C.S. Lewis. I wanted to create fantastic tales of far off places and magic and damsels who saved themselves from distress. But all that went away in an instant. All of it was gone so fast that it left me reeling. I was spending the night at home because I had a cold and my mom was paranoid about such things. Though to be honest, I didn’t really mind all that much. They were going to see a movie that my little sister Taylor had picked out. We often took turns picking out the movies we went to see. It was a family tradition and we did it once a month. Anyway, Taylor’s pick was something about a blind dog who saves a little girl from a burning building and becoming a hero or something like that. In any case, I didn’t really want to go so I was actually pretty grateful that the “sniffles” decided to grace me with their presence. It meant I could stay home, work on my stories and dream about my next encounter with Peter.
I remember it all exactly. I was sitting on the couch watching a movie when the doorbell rang. I contemplated not answering it since it was past 10 and I was home all alone and in my pajamas. But I changed my mind and got up to see who it was. I opened the door and there was a cop standing on my porch. He was a young guy, not bad looking at all, but the look on his face kept me from trying to flirt with him. It was a look of dead seriousness and ….pity in dark eyes that seemed far too old for him. That look confused me. I started to feel the first pangs of fear.
“Hi.” I said wanting to be as far away from those eyes that could only mean something was wrong. I think I knew what he was going to say. I did. I already knew what he was going to tell me. I just needed it confirmed.
“Are you Amelia Quinn,” he asked, his voice was cold and blunt.
“Yes.” Two could play that game and I kept my response just as cold as his.
“I’m sorry, miss, but there is no other way to say this. At 8:36 tonight, Benjamin and Shannon Quinn’s vehicle was hit head on by a drunk driver. There were no survivors. I’m sorry.” I could tell he was. The look on his handsome face told me he’d rather be anywhere but where he was at that moment. I wondered, briefly, how he got roped in to doing this. And then, because my brain had refused to accept what he’d just said to me, I fainted dead away.
When I woke a few moments later I was in the officer’s arms and he was putting me gently on the couch. I lay there dazed and more than a little dizzy while he spoke quietly into his….whatever they called it. A walkie talkie I guess.
“Miss, are you all right? Is there anything I can get you?”
“Millie.” I said, marveling at the fact that my voice still worked when everything else seemed to slow down. The beating of my heart, the pulse in my neck, even breathing was a labored effort. I tried to comprehend what the man told me. My parents were dead. Taylor was dead. So why was I still alive? Why was my heart still beating when the reasons for its drum like existence were gone? I pinched myself hard and it hurt. It gave me goose bumps which assured me I wasn’t dreaming.
“I’m sorry?” he frowned at me. My name wasn’t miss. It was Millie. I wanted him to be aware of the difference. I wasn’t going to let him make just another face in a line of so many. Why it bothered me, I wasn’t sure.
“My name is Millie, not miss,” I whispered, my bottom lip quivering quite without my permission. I tried to stop. Honestly, I did. Because I didn’t want to cry in front of this man who so clearly wanted to be elsewhere. If not for my sake then at least for his.
“Millie, is there someone I can call for you? Do you have any relatives?” He asked gently with just a little more feeling in his voice.
“I- I- ….” And suddenly I couldn’t speak. My throat was clogged and my vision blurred so that the officer was now just a mesh o