Dreaming

I had a dream I was holding a tiny baby, with bow lips, pink cheeks, round belly, 10 fingers, 10 toes.  I had a dream that I held her to me.  Nestled in a white blanket with pink and blue stripes she opened her eyes to look at me. She didn’t see my bloated cheeks, my ugly hospital robe, or my poor complexion.  She only saw Mama.  She has already known me, more than most; she’s heard my heart beat from the inside.  I held her head so full of hair to me and she pursed her lips and finally comforted, fell back to sleep.  I got to take her home.  But it was only just a dream.  I had the dream when I was awake, I had the dream when I was sleeping. 

The dream has changed now.  Sometimes it starts out as before.  But the doctors had to take her away.  She never opened her eyes, never pursed her lips in sleep, never nestled in a blanket, and never had pink cheeks.  I got to hold her for a few hours, and then they had to take her.  I went home with a couple pictures, an impression of her hands, and feet, a pink blanket, but no baby.  I scream no… no please no… and I wake up…  lonely feeling and empty. 

The dream changes often, sometimes I am being chased by a darkness that I can’t shake.  I think its sadness… I cower in a corner… no please no.  I wake up crying. 

Sometimes I am running, running away, or to, I don't know but I'm scared, and breathing hard, and it gets scarier and I run and whimper.  Sometimes Derek has to pull me to him to get me to stop. I know I'm dreaming sometimes, it's so lucid but I can't awake from it.

 Sometimes tears roll down my cheeks and I wake and my pillow is soaked but I don't know why.

Sometimes I hear crying, and I wake up to listen to no one.  Sometimes I hear crying and my waking self thinks, oh please… maybe… but no, it’s Gracie.  So I go to her and comfort her, but can’t shake the sadness to send myself back to sleep.

Sometimes I dream of my girls, and know that somehow I am missing something but can’t think of what it is.  I wake up just as I remember what I’m missing…. But she’s gone. 

Sometimes I don’t dream at all.  I wake up tired and dragging, and just a step above functioning.  

Imagine what my day is like if this is during sleep.

I wonder if a dream of butterflies would be as sad.

I wish she were here.