3 weeks ago today I had a strange dream. I dreamed that I woke up early in the morning and the first thing that I saw was Max, laying in bed next to me. He was so tiny, just the size of my daughters' baby dolls. I stared at him for a few minutes, watching him kick and move his little arms. Then I heard a voice say, "Mama, don't worry. I'm okay. I'm alright. Don't worry, Mama." I reached out for Max, but woke before I could hold him.
Having had two previous losses, including our loss in August, I was certain that this dream was to reassure me that my son was indeed okay. After all, every appointment lead to a healthy heart rate and every ultrasound showed a perfect, healthy, wiggling baby. Amazing how the brain somehow knows what the body tries to deny over and over.
This morning, I had the same dream. I woke up laying on my side with my arm stretched out...reaching for my darling, dearest boy.