The other night John woke suddenly very early in the morning, swearing, hiding his head, and acting as though he had just got a speeding ticket. I knew it was either a bad dream or that he just remember he had to pay a speeding ticket. It turns out it was a bad dream, of a sudden volcanic eruption while we were on the beach in Hawii, and giant rocks raining from the sky had seriously deformed his little brother; when he finally found me, I was crying that Emma had died. He awoke totally freaked out and upset. I was trying to comfort him, to bring him back to reality and tell his that it was just a dream. But I know how hard it can be to let it go.

A few nights ago I had a dream where I was taking Emma for a walk (mind you, she was in her carseat attached to a leash in my parents front yard – go figure). I realized I forgot something inside, decided to make a dash inside without her, and when I came back outside, she was gone. It was like a horror movie. I was in first person mode (I usually dream in third person, so this was new to me) and as I came out the front door, suddenly my viewpoint switched from looking towards the road to me being on the road and looking back at the house. Then the camera switched to a close up of where the leash had been tied around the railing, following the path is should have taken to the carseat, and the gut-wrenching realization that the neither the leash or carseat, or my daughter, were in sight. Next shot, staring at the front door, dreading going inside to tell John. For some reason, there was a little tiger sitting next to the stairs too. But it never crossed my mind that the tiger might have eaten everything until now. In my mind, the only possibility was that she got stolen. I remember quickly glancing up and downt he street, calculating how far someone could have gotten, then running pelmel up the stairs into the kitchen, totally out of breath (it was only 20 feet) and trying to say to John (calmly slicing vegetables) She (pant) she’s (pant pant) she’s gone… I can barely get the words out and I’m panicking. Then I wake up, startled, and start to feel the bed next to me, looking for Emma. And there she is, fast asleep, tucked up against me in the crook of my arm. I kiss her over and over and thank God that it was a dream.

Before she was born, I had all sorts of weird dreams, like that I gave birth to an alien, a  puppy, a dead baby… I dreamed that someone gave my baby a pacifier that was like a full face mask, only it had spikes on the inside of it, and when I took it off, the baby’s face was full of holes. I guess the scariness of the new responsibility you’re taking on manifests itself in strange dreams. Praise God that they’re just dreams and that in real life, we don’t have to go it alone.


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