Legs of "Steel"

Before I went to bed last night I read out loud from a lengthy blog post from my midwife, Christy. She is currently in the Philippines on a mission trip. She's helping at a birthing center delivering babies and doing prenatals. She hasn't been there a week and already has a slew of interesting stories. If anyone is interested in reading of her adventure let me know and I'll send you a link to her blog.
That last posting was full to the brim with birth stories. She's a good writer, but I think I'll stick with a mug of warm milk before bed instead of all the stories. Leave it to me to turn it all into a dream.
I dreamt that we were at church and I guess Brad was training to be a doctor. He wanted to make his services free for those at church, so whenever a woman went into labor he would help deliver the baby. He came back from one particular experience exhausted and discouraged. I guess he was a mix between a vet and OB, because he was upset that right after washing his hands he had to go up to his elbow in the poor laboring woman to grab the baby. Then he had to tug and pull at the cord. That just wasn't sitting right with me (experienced as I am) and I was encouraging him to give it up if that's not what he felt comfortable doing.
I suddenly woke up with a start. Both of my legs were in the midst of huge, strong Charlie Horses. Oh, they were painful. I moaned, arghed, flapped around, and tried to remember if you were supposed to flex your feet or point your feet in times like these. Not once did disturb my sleeping husband.
My husband sleeps through everything! When we were newlyweds I once had a bad nightmare. I woke up in the middle of the night, and thought, "Oh, yes, I have a husband that can comfort me in my distress." I tapped his shoulder. Nothing happened. I shook his shoulder. He made a small noise to encourage me he wasn't dead. When I finally got him somewhat awake I told him that I had just had a nightmare. I was looking forward to his strong arms to hold me in the dark while I fell back asleep. Instead I got a muffled, "Sorry, Honey." Then he patted me on the shoulder, turned back around, and went to sleep again! The next morning he couldn't remember any of it!
When we were training Kaeley to sleep through the night Brad assured me it was no problem for him to go in and take care of her. Almost every night Kaeley would cry, I would wake up instantly, listen to her cry for several minutes, and then finally make the huge effort to wake the sleeping giant. He'd, "Hmm?" "Brad, the baby has been crying." He'd grunt again, and lie there for many more minutes before he's finally stumble out of bed. Most of the time he'd thump out of our room, half fall into the door frame, and fall asleep with Kaeley out in the living room. Same thing happened with Nathan. If Alynna has the same experience I should get the video camera and record it. And it never failed that the next morning Brad would wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, never remember me having to practically push him out of bed or the fact that he had gotten that goose-egg on his head from his gracefulness into the door. He'd cheerfully reply, "Well, I don't remember that. Just make sure I'm awake when she's crying and I don't mind going in there."
So, my husband who sleeps better than a baby slept through my pain last night as usual. Good thing he makes up for it during the civilized hours.