Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Mirage


Tracing the tight belly of my pregnancy, while sitting outside, I was enjoying the spring sunshine peeking through the leaves of the tree above me.  Feeling movement, perhaps a foot or fist, I smiled and pressed gently against the movement. There was a thump in response.  I smiled bigger.  I felt so content and happy.

I was sweating, breathing hard, seeing several people above me and across from me-  nurses, Roni and my mom.  Roni signing to me "how do you feel now?" I snapped back, "When you try to get a basketball out, ask that again!"  The doctor urging me to push; I strained against the pain, yet flowing with the pain. The pain became my friend, and then it dissolved in a rush of movement, new skin, new life.  Watching the nurse picking the baby up, I almost called out wanting to hold the baby.  I watched anxiously as the nurse cleaned the baby; paying no attention to the doctor checking me afterwards.   I felt relief as the nurse put the warm baby on my stomach.    Kissing the wet head, noticing the dark mop of hair, I smiled and said "she's here, isn't she?"  Roni nodded, smiling, with tears in her eyes.  Mom even had a softened look on her face.

Walking across the room to the crib, I noticed the moon outside the window.  The moon was quite full, as if she was pregnant, full of new life.  I smiled at the whimsy thought.  I peered down at the sleeping baby.  Softly, pulling the blanket up to her chest, I touched my finger as in kissing it and then laying the finger to her silky forehead.  I shushed softly as the baby stirred slightly, as she returned to her sleep.

Carrying the girl in my arms, I walked up to the tree where I had used to sit under, while pregnant in the past.  I sat down, my legs cradling her, among the exposed roots of the oak tree.  As she looked up at the spots of sunlight through the fall leaves, grey eyes distracted by falling leaves among us, I smiled, cherishing the moment.  I was bending down to kiss her nose.....


RRriiiinnnng!  Riiinnng!  



Abruptly sitting up in bed, I found myself in pajamas, the light going off and off, in waking me up.

Oddly, I could recall the hard pregnant belly, the movements.     The pain of labor.  The baby's soft skin.  The sounds she made, vibrating through my chest as I held her.  It all felt real.   But no child at all. 

What annoys me- waking up to the nightmare of reality, or was the dream itself a nightmare?

I resent the reality right now.  

7 comments:

  1. I hate those dreams... In my case, it is easier when I don't think at all about what I am missing. Being reminded of it brings all the pain back. Sending you a big hug.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh my GOODNESS...it was SO vivid...I can understand why you didn't want to wake up. Ugh...it was too beautiful a dream to wake up from.

    (((HUGS))) A part of me wishes that you forgot about the dream...sigh...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Another one here that has had those kind of dreams. I hate them so very much since the waking up to reality is so much more painful because of the tiny details that made it seem more real than dream.

    More hugs, and more sympathy.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I have had them too....I do indeed feel that waking up is the nightmare.
    I try to remember all those details and carry them for as long as possible in hopes it would soothe me in reality...but they fade so fast once my eyes open.

    Hugs more hugs and then some more

    ReplyDelete
  5. Yes I know these dreams! So vivid, so real. I'm thinking of you.

    ReplyDelete
  6. oh man. really vivid dreams are SO difficult. i had one recently that i was having twins by surrogacy and Ross and I were picking out baby names. I woke up and nearly threw up. It was too much.

    So I feel you on this and yes, waking up and realizing that's not reality is the nightmare.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Thank you, all dear readers, it sure helps me realize that this is a part of grief process, wishing for something- subconscious bringing up the desire, causing pain- sometimes I wonder what's the purpose of this kind of dreams- but one thing I'll tell you, if I see Sandman about to sprinkle his dream sand on me, I'm going to wallop him one.

    ReplyDelete