Dreamland
I often remember my dreams. I don't like telling people about them, because they sound stupid. As real, as funny, or as scary as feel to me, they never translate into a good story. I actually don't think I have ever heard anybody (myself, obviously included) say, "you won't believe my dream last night" and follow it with a riveting tale!
There are other times when I have a dream that is so good that it will actually aid in my falling asleep the next night. I can just crawl into bed, close my eyes and begin to think about the dream. I am almost instantly back to dreamland.
My dream felt very real last night. And although I don't like talking about dreams, it is all I can think about today.
Last night I had a dream that Calder was very sick. The doctors told Hugh and I that he had what Tripp had. The doctor told us Calder was going to die. I felt scared. I know what it feels like to lose a child. I felt guilt. I couldn't figure out how I could have been so caught up in my grief that I had forgotten to get Calder checked out.
I woke up. It took a long walk to the bathroom and a pile of self-talk to convince myself that even though we don't totally know what happened to Tripp, we do know it happened in my belly. Tripp's liver wasn't functioning properly as early as the first trimester. Calder's liver is fine. Calder isn't going to die. There is no reason for me to take him to the doctor to get his liver checked out. Calder is fine.
I don't think its a coincidence I had this dream on the eve of Tripp's 8 month birthday.
I haven't been dreading this week as much as I have others, but I have had it on my mind. I have been reliving moments the last couple of nights and subsequently have had trouble falling asleep. Tired = More Sad.
I have spent the last week avoiding thinking about what Tripp would have been doing at 8 months - Avoiding wondering about what kind of kid he would be. Sometimes I think the avoiding just makes me think about it more. Maybe even dream about it more.
It is nights like this I wish I could remember one of those wonderful dreams that help me fall asleep. They are silly and illogical, but for whatever reason they work.
Sometimes my dreams are so vivid that I have flashes of them during the day. I will actually feel a rush of joy/fear when the memory pop up.
There are other times when I have a dream that is so good that it will actually aid in my falling asleep the next night. I can just crawl into bed, close my eyes and begin to think about the dream. I am almost instantly back to dreamland.
My dream felt very real last night. And although I don't like talking about dreams, it is all I can think about today.
Last night I had a dream that Calder was very sick. The doctors told Hugh and I that he had what Tripp had. The doctor told us Calder was going to die. I felt scared. I know what it feels like to lose a child. I felt guilt. I couldn't figure out how I could have been so caught up in my grief that I had forgotten to get Calder checked out.
I woke up. It took a long walk to the bathroom and a pile of self-talk to convince myself that even though we don't totally know what happened to Tripp, we do know it happened in my belly. Tripp's liver wasn't functioning properly as early as the first trimester. Calder's liver is fine. Calder isn't going to die. There is no reason for me to take him to the doctor to get his liver checked out. Calder is fine.
I don't think its a coincidence I had this dream on the eve of Tripp's 8 month birthday.
I haven't been dreading this week as much as I have others, but I have had it on my mind. I have been reliving moments the last couple of nights and subsequently have had trouble falling asleep. Tired = More Sad.
I have spent the last week avoiding thinking about what Tripp would have been doing at 8 months - Avoiding wondering about what kind of kid he would be. Sometimes I think the avoiding just makes me think about it more. Maybe even dream about it more.
It is nights like this I wish I could remember one of those wonderful dreams that help me fall asleep. They are silly and illogical, but for whatever reason they work.
My dreams are also extremely vivid & I almost always remember them, or at least some part of them. I believe that dreaming is a way to work through our fears, and also a way to communicate with our loved ones who have passed on. This is from an excerpt of one of my blog postings:
ReplyDelete(p.s. I am sending you peaceful, happy dream vibes for tonight.)
Today's blog is dedicated to my Dad, who watches over me and my family daily. I can feel his presence, and I connect with him through dreams.
The first night after my Dad's passing, I had a dream with him in it. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs at the front door of our house, with two suitcases in hand. The sun was shining brilliantly behind him, and he looked so happy and free of pain; just like the Dad I always knew. He turned to me and smiled, and said, "It's time for me to go now." I remember crying in my dream, and replying, "I know. I love you, Dad," to which he replied, "I love you too. Take care of Mom and Jay, and tell *Jay 'Happy Birthday.'" He then turned around, walked down the driveway, and up the street into that brilliant sunshine.