This morning, after the temp was taken, the cup peed in, monitor used and cat shooed away. I slept again, dreaming. So odd. It shifted and changed. At first he was girl, a daughter that was more like a plastic baby doll than alive. But I knew him. I was sad because I'd forgotten him and no one had fed him. And shift, and he was a boy I called Christopher, but I compared his face to his picture and it was him. And I knew. And he knew me. No longer a stiff doll-baby, he reached for me. I was ashamed for having thought he'd died, when he was just taken away to NICU. I dressed him again and again and laid him down for a nap and watched him sleep. I was angry I'd missed the first nine months of his life, but I pushed the anger away every time I held him. All I could think then was I'd wanted so badly to hold you again; I have to remember this, how it felt. He was squirmy sometimes, he patted my face, he reached up for me to lift him, settled his head in the crook of my neck and slept, sweetly, and just clung to him. I woke up when we were making plans to move back home so that we could spend all our time with him, jobs be hanged. I was listening to him babble baby-talk, holding him on my lap thinking, I have to remember this and how it felt. I have to remember this.
And then I was awake and remembering and it was Gabe and it wasn't, and I don't know whether to be grateful because I held him again or angry because he's gone again. So I'll just feel sad for a bit.
3 comments:
When my father passed away, almost 20 years ago now, it took a long time for me to dream about him. When I finally did, I felt like he was pushing through the ethereal border between death and life, his world and mine, to let me know that he loved and missed me. (And oddly, like you described your dream, sometimes he was different in appearance, but it was definitely him!) The dreams disturbed me a little at first, but then I started to welcome them because it gave me more time with him, time that I should have had as a child but didn't because death took him from me. Now when I am upset or distressed, he still visits my dreams now and again. His visits give me strength.
Sweet Gabriel, gone too soon, I hope your quiet dream visits someday bring some healing to your momma's heart and soul.
I'm sad that you dreamed of your sweet baby boy only because you had to wake up. I know what it is like to be with someone in a dream who is no longer here in real life... you are so excited that you are with them. In your dream you feel silly for thinking they were gone because the dream feels so real! And you don't want to wake up because you don't want to loose them again! I had the same feeling with someone who was a mom to me! And I prayed to dream about her again the next night so I could spend more precious time with her. I pray that after you are sad over your dream that you will be happy that you were able to 'hold' your baby again & maybe, eventually, welcome those dreams. Painful and yet wonderfully bittersweet at the same time.
I just want to give you a huge hug.
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