You have been in my dreams almost every night this past week. I can't recall having dreamt of you up until now. Day dream, yes and all the time. At night... not so much. I think of how many times I wished I could dream of you. I imagined how lovely it would be to at least get to see you grow up in the moonlight and coziness of my bed, if nowhere else. My first dream, was not so lovely tho' it started off especially great!
It was of the day you were born, except this time you were alive, and everything was perfectly normal. I was in a hospital room with you, and we were lounging on a day bed together. There were other people in the room. I knew all of them but I can't recall who each individual was. I was, however, aware of two people in particular. Your daddy, and the fact that he was not there, and the ominous nurse standing in the corner of the room just watching. She was making me uncomfortable, and I knew something unpleasant was being anticipated, but I also supposed that she may just a precautionary tactic. She, and the mood that emanated from her, was easy to ignore as you and I spent the longest minutes together. I was playing with you, holding your hand, tickling your feet, and squeezing your chubby little cheeks; all while I watched the door anxiously for your daddy to return so I could show him all of these adorable things about you.
Suddenly, the room went dark, and my vision was tunneled. My peripheral was blurred and the people and things in it were immediately more insignificant than the moments before. I could see that you were slowly fading. Your breathing was slowing to a halt, and the life in your eyes was retreating from me. Your hands, then arms, were going limp, then they became heavier, as with the rest of your body. I was watching you die, and so was the nurse. I was calling for help but this nurse, she was only watching as if this is what she had been waiting for all along. She was verbally reassuring me everything was ok. You know, like how you whisper in a loved one's ear as they drift asleep when they are not feeling well. Her words were calm and kind, but I was frantic. I was shaking, and trying to get you to respond, but each second swept you further away until I was left with only the shell of what was you.
I posted a few months ago about wondering which would have been better; to have you born and living for just a short time, or to have let you go before you were born, like we did? Back then, I decided that it would have been better to have had some time with you before you died. To see your eyes looking into mine, to see your daddy rocking you to sleep, and to dress you in ridiculous pink dresses. Geez, just to get some pictures with you, dammit! After this dream though, I have a different opinion. Experiencing your death after meeting your spirit, even in just a dream, was so painful. Much more painful than the reality we've endured so far. It's better, for me, that you were gone before I knew you anymore that I already did.
This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for the small mercy's of God. Sometimes we don't even know just how much we've been spared, until the moment has long passed.
Love you and miss you!