Dreams

I have heard from a number of moms in the "I've lost a child club" that they sometimes dream about the child that they've lost. Until last night, I hadn't experienced that. I had dreams about the day I would deliver Isaac while I was still pregnant, but since October 7th, I hadn't dreamed about him... until last night.

You know how dreams are... sort of scattered. You're in one place, then suddenly you're in another. My dream started in the hospital delivering Isaac. Like it was predicted, he was born not breathing. But then, he did... almost like when someone has been under water for a while and they come up for a breath. In my dream, I just remember being so... shocked. And so, so thankful.

Then, we were suddenly at home. I remember waking up (in my dream) wondering, "Which is it? Is he here, or is he not?" And to my surprise, I could hear him crying across the hall in the nursery. I remember going in, picking him up, and rocking him as he fell back asleep.

Somehow, it was then about a year later in my dream because Isaac was walking... you know, that cute "I could topple over at any minute because I am unstable and haven't quite figured out how my legs work yet" walk. And he had the biggest grin on his face and was laughing. How appropriate. After all, "Isaac" does mean "he laughs."

The thing that's hard about having such a good dream is that you wake up... you wake up and find that your reality isn't what just unfolded during your good night's slumber. And sure, there are all kinds of studies about what dreams do, or don't, mean. All that aside, I think it just caught me off guard.

I suppose the bottom line is still just that I miss my son terribly. And although that dream may have been a glimpse of the joy that could be ahead should we be fortunate enough at some point to have a healthy child, it still won't be the joy that we'll ever be able to experience with Isaac on this side of Heaven. Thank goodness for the hope we can have in eternity... that the brokenness of this world isn't the end.