Dreams

Sometimes I fear I have made this all up.  It doesn't seem as though it is real.  How could it be - how could something this horrific be real.  I fear I dreamed Xavier. Or that this is still a dream nightmare and maybe someday I will wake up and find my baby sleeping in his bassinet and everything will go back to normal.  The pain will be gone, my arms won't ache, my family won't be broken.

I know this isn't the case.  This can't happen. My Xavier flies high with the angels now. He was real. I remember his skin, his smell, his birth.  His pictures validate my thoughts, he did exist.

How horrible a mother I am to even think for a moment he wasn't real. The cycle of guilt starts all over again. My brain struggles to wrap around everything.  The morning of his death, his funeral, my husband and children's pain.

I realize now, humans - mother's - were not designed for this, we were not meant to feel this pain.  Our bodies and minds can handle pregnancy and childbirth and all the discomforts associated, but we were not designed to handle the deaths of our children.  You whole body and mind revolts against you.  The grief saddles you and you drag it around all day like a huge weighted bag.  It never seems to lighten, only grow heavier and becomes more noticeable as the day wears on to the point your mind begs for sleep just to get away from the burden. You wake up from your dreams only to find yourself doubting reality and longing for the day the grief lets up just a little so everything, something, isn't a struggle.  When your smiles aren't fake. When your happiness isn't forced.  When you can enjoy something again without feeling guilty.  When your thoughts aren't all consumed by your child that isn't there anymore.

My Xavier wasn't a dream.  He is a beautiful memory.  And I will hold him in my heart forever and dream of him until we meet again.