Dreams

Dreams are beginning to get quite difficult...and so vivid. I feel like day time me doesn't quite know how to handle everything going on inside of my heart, so it gets pushed down or grieved but only for a few minutes at a time before I have to make it stop. At nighttime though, it seems to leak out and fill my dreams.

The other night, I had a dream that Bill and I were on a getaway vacation. I met a young man that worked on the cruise line, he was about 20 years old. He had curly auburn hair, a pale German/Irish complexion, he was tall and had freckles on his cheeks, nose and arms. His name was Jamie (the name we originally picked out for our baby at first, before changing it to Jesse). Dream me instantly loved him. Dream me wanted to hug him tight and never let go. There was the biggest rush of maternal pride as soon as I saw him. He was the most helpful boy throughout our cruise, and I so adored him.

The fuzzy part is probably fuzzy for a reason, now. On the cruise, something bad happened. It was under attack of some sort, and Jamie stayed by our side, trying to get us to safety. I can't remember how, but Jamie died suddenly. I cradled him in my arms and rocked him as he passed. I sobbed over him and begged him to stay. I was forced to leave him behind, even though I felt like risking everything to stay just to hold him.

I woke up to Will crying, so I went and got him and cuddled him back to sleep, because I needed little baby cuddles after that dream. When I fell back to sleep, I dreamed that I was running a charity with my daughter's ballet teacher. It was a charity in the name of what had happened to Jamie, and I dedicated my everything to it. There was a little boy there with red hair, and I smiled sadly and told him how much I loved little redheads.

I woke up with a very heavy heart. It took me a little bit to be able to think over it and realize that it was about our baby. It wasn't the first dream of him I had. Just days after we lost the baby, I had a horrible dream that we were - yes, again! - on a cruise. We were holding and cuddling a newborn on the deck, and suddenly somehow the baby fell overboard. Bill tried to climb out to swim after the sinking baby, but the cruise had tall, unclimbable walls and a ceiling above, so even though the tiny baby somehow managed to fall out, we couldn't escape and get in the water in time.

The bursting in my heart was so great that it woke me in a panic. I woke up to being so overheated, it felt like I was in an oven under the blankets. Apparently my panic had made me create so much heat, something I never experienced before. But the dream was so real that it took me hours to fall back to sleep. It was so vivid, and the heartwrenching feeling of our baby being so suddenly torn from our arms and never to be seen again was so great.

I remember when we lost Elizabeth, there were such vivid dreams of her for months after. I still remember some of them like they were memories instead of dreams. A beautiful little toddler with curly brown hair and Bill's gorgeous light blue eyes, dressed in little boutique tea dresses or ballet tutus. I remember having dreams that consisted of nothing at all except holding a little newborn baby girl, just cradling her in my arms and rocking her to sleep.

No one understands the loss of a baby, how it effects your every day and night, until it happens. It's not about logic, it's not about being able to talk yourself out of grief. Your heart mourns, it cries, and whether you wish to allow it to or not, it'll show itself. Even if the only time it can is in your dreams. Vivid, realistic dreams that last in your mind for years.