Nightmares

Early in my pregnancy with Elena, I dreamed that she was born too soon and the doctor told me it was too soon to do anything about it. Obviously not a pleasant dream, but I just attributed it to worry since my first child was premature. I don't think I really believed that nightmare would become my reality. My husband would later tell me (after Elena's birth and death) that he had similar bad dreams of Elena arriving too early and not surviving (though his occurred during the time I was hospitalized, after we were told that it would be a miracle if I made it to term). I don't really know what to make of those dreams. I don't believe that I possess psychic abilities; in fact, I am quite suspect of anyone claiming to have them. I simply don't put much stock in things such as those most of the time. It bothers me, though, that we both dreamed what later happened.

After Elena died, I was discharged from the hospital that same day. It was a Monday. For the first time in over a week, I slept in my own bed (if you can call that first night sleep, I think at some point I simply passed out from exhaustion for a few hours). That night, I dreamed that my husband died...twice in the same nightmare. The first time he was shot while outside. I was terrified. Later he walked back into the house, and I was momentarily so relieved. He did not look well, however, and said something to that effect. Then he collapsed and was dead (again). I awoke, glad to realize it was just a nightmare. Except that it wasn't - I mean the part about my husband was, but Elena was still dead. That was the nightmare from which I would never awake. And I had to face going to the funeral home that day.

The second night back home, nightmares haunted me once more. This time I dreamed that my son, who was not quite two at the time, ran into the street in front of a car...again and again and again. It was as if it was a recurring dream, all rolled into one hellish nightmare. I awoke the next morning and to my relief found my son and my husband both alive, but to my horror, my daughter was still dead. It was not just a nightmare. I so desperately wanted to wake up from that nightmare too (I still wish I would just wake up). That day I would have to finalize the decisions about our final plans for her.

I don't remember specifically if the nightmares continued to haunt me during sleep (they bugged the hell out of me during the day, though - they were so vivid and so disturbing and left me with such a feeling of dread). I know they eventually stopped...for a while.

Five months later the nightmares started again. Again vivid and frightening. I would awake and spend the entire day in a sort of fog, overwhelmed with dread, even panic at times. They would shake me to the bones. Thankfully they seemed to stop as suddenly as they had returned.

Then a few weeks ago I had another terrifying and vivid nightmare about my son (now three). I dreamed he was outside with his dad, who was working on (or maybe washing) the car. Apparently he had gotten bored with "helping" dad and had wandered into the yard. We found him floating face down in the pool. I was horrified that he had drowned while I sitting inside the house in the room closest to him, and his dad was just on the other side of the fence. Both of us just steps away, and yet he died anyway. I awoke, and of course he was fine, and Elena was still dead. I wanted to fill in the pool with dirt, or maybe move. I still do (despite the alarm on the doors and the locked fence around the pool).

Later the same week, while eating lunch, my son said the oddest thing. He looked at me across the table and said, "My clock is going to stop." Then he patted his chest, over his heart. I tried to ask him, as casually as possible, to explain more (while inwardly freaking out - what was THAT about and where did it come from???). But as three year old boys are prone to do, he quickly bounced to a new topic and was not interested in talking about clocks any longer. I was tempted to make him skip his nap that afternoon (and bedtime too, and every nap and every bedtime from now on). Then a couple of  weekends ago, we had an actual scare with him. The gravity of the situation, and being REAL this time, knowing things could have ended tragically, left me hysterical. I cannot remember the last time I sobbed as violently as I did for as long as I did - I suspect it was shortly after Elena died. I still feel sick to my stomach to think of it. Thankfully, blessedly, my son is still alive and well, but again, tragically, my daughter is still dead. I still have not woken up.

Perhaps that is what heaven will be like...waking up from this nightmare. This earthly life may pass away like a fleeting dream, and I might realize that this life was just a restless night full of crazy ups and downs. And I will have eternity in the brilliance of the sparkling daylight of my Lord with Elena and all those I love, forever, and the darkness and nightmares will cease to exist. 

"There will be no more night.  They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.  And they will reign for ever and ever."  Revelation 22:5.