I had a dream last night, as I do every night. My dreams have always been wild and vivid. That hasn't changed. Lately my dreams have been more of nightmares of reliving most of our 2 weeks in the hospital. Its exhausting trying not to think about it when you're awake and then dreaming of it when you finally get to sleep.
People keep asking when we think we'll try again. My therapists, some family, its a questions we ask ourselves. It's something we think about. And it's something that terrifies me. I don't know how you make the decision to jump off a cliff when you've done it once and crashed and burned. What makes you think the 2nd time taking a leap of faith will produce any different results?
I've been missing my boys so much here lately. Like missing them so much I can't stand it. I loved them both, they were growing inside me together. We were all in it together. It was me carrying our boys. We talked to them, Jason sang to them. We just really loved them. When we held Tucker I don't know that my heart has ever been so full and so broken at the same time. I was holding my precious baby boy. Jason's baby. Our baby. And while our hearts broke, over and over again, for Tucker, we had so much hope for Fletcher. So for a baby that was wanted more than anything, anyway, to be the son we had still fighting, he consumed me. My heart. My thoughts. He was my little fighter and I couldn't wait to bring him home with us.
My heart broke on Dec 13 when Tucker passed. My heart crumbled into a thousand pieces when Fletcher died 11 days later.
I miss my boys. I miss the hope I had of being such a good mommy to them. I miss my boys. I miss being pregnant. I miss the hope I had. I still have trouble believing that this really happened. That the boys we prayed so hard for are just gone.
I want my babies back.
Ridiculous, I know.
So last night when I had a dream that I was pregnant it was ok. Because I had something that I didn't have with my last pregnancy. I had a good pregnancy. I felt great. Was able to work. Was able to eat and not throw up. I was glowing with the glow that only moms carrying their babies can have. I was happy. I was healthy. I was more in love with that baby than I thought possible.
Then I started bleeding. I lost our baby. Again. I don't know how much you are supposed to read into your dreams but I can tell you that did nothing but send me into a heartbroken tailspin. I know what it means to be pregnant then lose your son. Then still be pregnant and lose your other son 11 days later. Is my dream telling me I can't carry a baby? Is it Satan trying to discourage me? I don't know.
All I have ever wanted to be is a mom to a bunch of kids. I just kind of always assumed all the kids would be with me, here, on earth. So I could love on them. Hold them. Pray over them. Cry with them. Laugh with them. I don't want a life full of babies that are in heaven. This mom wants to be able to hold her babies on earth.
I'm not in a great place right now. I'm just really sad. I really miss my boys. There is so much I wish I could have told them. I wish I'd never let them go. I would still be holding them if I could. I don't feel like a mom. I feel like a broken woman who can't really find her way back.
My body is doing it's own thing. My mind runs 1000 miles a min and never takes a break. My emotions are all over the place. My feelings aren't hurt, they are broken. I'm just kind of lost in this pain and grief.
I'm a fixer. But I can't fix this. I'm a mom. Who doesn't have her boys. I'm a Christian, who is crying out to my God for peace, for understanding, for help through this pain.
I just want my babies back. I want to hold them, I want to sing to them, I want to love on them.
I just want my babies....