Thursday, June 17, 2010

I tried...

He wraps his hand around my finger and smiles. He kicks his feet and wiggles his arms. I change his diaper he giggles and coos. He laughs as I tickle his belly. I button his sleeper and make funny faces and sounds as he smiles, and I try to pick him up, but I can't. I try again, and I realize it's a dream, I need to hold onto him, I need to keep him, I try desperately, desperately to bring him with me, but I can't, and I wake up. His image fades and a tear runs down my cheek as I wish I could dream forever.

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you realize you're dreaming just as you're about to wake up and you try to bring things with you, because in dream land you know what will not be there but you're dreaming, and maybe, just maybe, if you try hard enough, you might just be able to bring it with you when you awaken. I always try to bring things back with me... money, letters, flowers, pictures... and now my baby, it never works.

Last night I had a dream about my baby. I have never tried so hard to bring something back with me, I knew I was waking up and I knew he wouldn't be here, I knew that if I could just hold him tight enough, that he would be here when I woke up. But, as dreams go when you realize you're dreaming, I couldn't pick him up. I tried, and I tried, and I tried. As I tried, his face faded, his giggle was gone, and I woke up. I woke up and I cried.

My baby is dead, and these dreams are both the best, most amazing thing I could ever ask for, and at the same time, they haunt me. I LOVE dreaming about my baby - that is the best way I can spend time with him. I love holding him. I love playing with him. I love him. But they haunt me, when I wake up and he isn't there, the pain flows strong. It's like a hurricane blowing me down. It's like a cruel joke... here's your baby, play with him, love on him, be with him ~wake up~ haha just kidding, he's still dead. Then I see him all day, and I miss him all day, and the pain is so strong.

I don't cry very much, I've learned to stop the tears from flowing... it's easier that way, and besides - everyone thinks I should "be over it" by now. My baby died 12 weeks ago. And this morning I woke up and I cried. I cried for me, because I hurt so bad. I cried until my pillow was wet, then I flipped it over and cried some more. Then I decided I wanted to see my baby again, I went back to sleep and tried go back into my dream, so I could spend some more time with Landon... it didn't happen, but I tried.

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