Dreamer

I have this problem. See, I have really, really vivid dreams. The kind that actually has my subconscious arguing with my consciousness. "You're asleep." "No, you're awake." etc. etc. (This became a problem once when I was around 14 or so. I dreamed I was on the toilet. Can you see where this is going? Brings a whole new meaning to the term "wet dream." ooooh, sorry. That was naughty. LOL)

I am one of those people that can actually hold a grudge because of something you "did" in my dream. Just ask the hubs. One time I woke up and hit him because he had taken a plural wife in my dream. I was pissed the rest of the day.

Normally I have dreams that once the original shock wears off, I laugh about. I know that it isn't reality, and I let my husband tease me relentlessly. (I still get crap about dating that penguin)

But last night's dream was different. I went to bed really early and slept for nearly 11 hours. Unfortunately, my dream lasted the entire night. In it, we were at the hospital for the birth of another niece/nephew. While my SIL was in labor, I started to have flashbacks. I remembered being in the same hospital giving birth to triplets. 2 girls, and 1 boy. The only problem was that I only had LJ, and one more daughter. I was missing 2 children! As I began to remember, I started asking questions to the staff at the hospital. They all looked at me with a horrible sadness in their eyes and told me that I needed to talk to the head nurse. When I finally found her, she told me that she remembered me and asked me to sit down. She handed me a scrapbook and asked me to search the pages for my picture. When I found it, near the middle of the book, the picture made my heart sink. I was laying on the floor of my home with 2 babies in my arms. My little girl was laying slightly across my chest and my son was resting peacefully in the crook of my left arm. I was looking directly at the camera with such a sad, yet peaceful expression. I read it instantly. My babies were sick, but in the moment the picture was taken, they were alive, and I was just so grateful to have that time with them. When I finally looked up from the photo album, tears streaming down my face, the nurse gently asked me, "Would you like to see them?"

Then my dream cut back to my SIL, still in labor. I was outside on a bench, sitting on the deck that was connected to her room through a sliding glass door. I sat there weeping, holding my 2 dead children. Of course, because it was a dream, they were perfect. Beautiful in every way. They didn't look like anything was wrong. My husband stood there with me, softly trying to console me, but crying at the same time. The longer I sat there, the more I realized that the rest of our family was staring at us. They were angry. At one point, someone came out and asked us, "You really think this is an appropriate time to be doing this? while SIL is having her baby?" I didn't know what to say, so I just stood up with our babies and walked away. I wandered through the hospital, never daring to speak to anyone.

That was the rest of my dream. Walking aimlessly, desperately clutching my children into my chest, not knowing how or when they had died. I spoke to them, but I couldn't hear what I was saying. They felt like little dolls. I had them wrapped in a single blanket, their tummies up against my chest.

When I woke up, I felt like I couldn't breath. I must have been crying in my sleep, because my pillow was wet, and my eyes are puffy and red. All morning, I haven't been able to shake this immense feeling of loss. DH was kind enough to get up with LJ and feed her breakfast and get her ready for school. Even though I know it was just a dream, I can't help but miss my children. Although they weren't even alive in my dream, I am craving the feeling of holding them in my arms. I want to see their faces again, but I can't remember what they looked like.

I HATE dreams like this. Even when they aren't sad, I hate them. I hate saying "goodbye", simply because I have to wake up.

It just might be time to go back to therapy. My counselor would have a hay day with this one.