Tuesday, March 31, 2009

I Dream In Color

As long as I can remember I've started each morning with vivid memories of things that never happened.

I dream in color. Dreams full of plot changes, themes, a cast of characters and emotion.

Some mornings, I wake up with tears in my eyes and I have to remind myself that I've been dreaming. When I was younger, I would awaken in the middle of the night screaming and crying.
One of my recurring dreams from my childhood had something to do with Rainbow Bright and my parents dying. I don't know what one had to do with the other, but it felt so real.

Since Owen died, I've had numerous dreams about being pregnant and losing the baby or a child dying.
The worst dream I had I've written about already. I won't go there again. It is so painful to remember...and it didn't even happen.

Last night, I had a dream that I was pregnant. I was 36 weeks. I am always 36 weeks pregnant in my dreams.
I was going into the hospital to be induced and there were women all around me doing the same, except their family members were laughing and rubbing their tummies. They were excited and full of joy.

I was alone.

I was telling the nurse about Owen and sharing my fears with her. All of a sudden, I couldn't remember the last time I had felt the baby move. I looked down and my stomach was flat.

I burst into tears and knew the baby was gone.

There have been many dreams that end this way. Always the same; I am always 36 weeks pregnant. I am alone. The baby is gone.

My dreams reflect the constant fear I feel about getting pregnant again. I've lost two babies since Owen, so the fear feels very justified and tangible.

I feel stuck.

I think my dreams reflect that too.

Always 36 weeks pregnant...
I can't see beyond that point. I can't visualize laboring for a baby who is alive or bringing a baby home from the hospital. I can't even dream about it.

I am unable to get the images out of my head today. I am stuck.


Amy said...

I understand being unable to see past being pregnant. I can, barely, see myself pregnant, maybe even hearing my baby cry, but leaving the hospital with a living child? That seems far beyond my vision.

I hope you have a peaceful dream soon.

Keisha Valentina said...

Ebe, praying for you right now. I see the father holding you here and Owen up there, wrapping you both up tightly,not smothered but in perfect peace.

Cling tightly to him today, remembering His precious promises. I know this is easier said than done. I am praying for strength.

Romans 8: 26-
"Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words."

Love you dear sister,

Tonya said...


I'm so sorry that you feel "stuck" today. Dreams can be wierd and disturbing and hard to understand. I'm the opposite of you. I don't dream much and if I do, I don't remember them. Sometimes I just wish I could dream about Grady being alive or about him being alive and happy in heaven.

Know that I'm thinking of you. Praying that better days are ahead. Don't give up hope....it's all we've got! :-)


Rachel said...

I know you have probably heard this before, but one couple in our church just shared their story. After 16 years of not being able to have a child, she finally got pregnant. Only to miscarry a few weeks later. Into the 17th year, she was pregnant again (against all doctor's recommendations). This time, she did carry the baby to term and delivered Isaac this January. I have hope for you in whatever God plans to bring your way. And I grieve with you now in the meantime.

Zil said...

Dreams do mirror our greatest fears and hopes. I wish you sweet dreams...new dreams that reflect the hope of the future.

Anna said...


I'm praying that one day you can dream of the 37th week and beyond. And not only dream, but I pray that one day you will be there, and able to welcome a happy, healthy, screaming baby into this world.

Lots of love