Dreams...

I don't often sleep through the night anymore. Max is up around 5 times in the night. And if I'm not stumbling down the hall to turn him over, or change a diaper, Steve is and I'm almost awake listening for a call for assistance.

But when I do get to sleep through the night, I have the most fantastic vivid dreams. I wake up and I can remember smells, and sights, and words and tastes. I've always been a day-dreamer, and love when my mind really takes over at night and I can see things I won't allow to be seen during the day.

Last night was one of those nights. I put Max on a continuous feed through the night because he hadn't gotten in all of his formula or water for the day, during the day. And in order for it to go into him while he's lying down, It has to go in very slowly, so it doesn't come back up. This little bit of food on his tummy caused him to sleep through the night. And it just might be something we try again tonight!!

So, back to the dream. I had a dream in the early morning, that I remember most vividly today. I was looking around at a castle, that was turned into a church. And when I went inside I was greeted by a lot of my friends. Friends from all over the world. And I had no idea where I was. What country, or city, or why we were in this magnificent building.

I looked around for Steve, but he wasn't there. And then I noticed Max wasn't with me. I asked one of my friends what we were doing there, and then like a ton of bricks hit me I knew. It was a memorial service. Not a funeral, but a memorial service. That Max had died, but I was in the hospital when the funeral had happened. I didn't know how he had died, or where Steve was, or why I was in the hospital when he died.

I heard whispers about me, "Oh my gosh, she doesn't remember., She doesn't know he's gone., Someone sit her down." All the while I was standing there weeping. I couldn't remember, I didn't know what had happened. And I started to loose my senses. I sat down and the only thing out of my mouth that could form was, "I'm moving back to England.".

Then one of my friends came up and put a hand on my shoulder and said,it's just a bad dream, wake up. And I did. I woke up and caught my breath. I laid in my bed upset, and wondering why I had dreamed such a dream. I am reading a book right now, set in London, where the mother's has lost a son, and has a nervous breakdown, waking days later not knowing what happened. While reading it, I didn't feel fazed one bit. It takes my mind off of the daily events and I relax reading it before bed.

I got up out of bed and went to check on Max. He was quietly playing with the early morning sunlight. I climbed into his bed with him and he rolled into me to go to sleep. Just a bad dream...just a bad dream.

I am glad it was just a dream, and I did get to wake up. But one day that may not be the case. It may be sooner than we expect, it could be 30 years from now. I have no idea of knowing that. But I do know that I will accept this dream as a reminder that he is a precious gift to me. Every single day I have with him is precious, and in the hardest of times in our life with him, I will remember this dream, and know that at least that time I could wake up and be with him.