That dream I had...

I've been quiet here lately.
That doesn't mean I haven't been thinking, writing, composing thoughts swirling in my mind.

I have gone on walks where I felt an 8 year old was walking by my side. I felt my head go up, thankful for him there.
I have stopped at their garden, not to shed tears, but to lift up thanks.  Just because I was glad that they were there~
In my life.

Recently I wrote of how one of my very dear friends lost her baby. How it set ME back. How I felt that  all those I love should be immune to my sadness.  I hear from people who have lost their children and my heart breaks, but this one ripped into my soul and I found myself in that raw place, sobbing, unable to make it stop because I knew what she was going through and I knew that nothing I could say or do could take away that horrible pain.

I wanted to give an update of sorts on my friend.  It hasn't gotten easier really... as those who have gone this road know, there is a moment where that fog settles and you find yourself standing there.  Alone. Not knowing how it is that your knees are managing to hold you up.  She's there now.  She wants nothing more than to have a baby in her arms.  I remember that pain.  That urgency.  That desperation.

But.

Something good has happened... or at least, I think it is good.

A while back I wrote about a dream I had.  How odd it was.  There was a dead baby in it.  The baby was alive but somehow, I knew that that particular baby had died. It wasn't Andrew and I knew that. I was a bit angry at first for I had prayed to see Andrew in my dreams for years and have yet to have seen him (or at least remember my dream if he has visited).  I did turn and see a girl.  A beautiful little blond girl who looked to be about three and I knew in an instant it was my daughter.

I couldn't keep my eyes off her. It filled me up and like that peace I had while on my walk, and visiting the garden I felt full.  I didn't want her to leave but she had to.  I watched her go.  She was happy as she turned and smiled at me one last time. And it was good.

Still, I wondered about the baby.

Soon after I learned my friend had lost her baby.
I thought perhaps that baby was someone that I wanted to know, longed to hold, dreamed of calling me "Auntie Laura"

I told her about my dream.

I haven't written in a while.
But I wanted you to know.

Her baby...
Was a boy.

He's there.
Watching her and praying that his mom would know he's OK and that there is someone else she's meant to hold (first).

One day you'll walk like me and feel them at your side and smile.
One day you'll see their name and kiss your lips to their stone~ not because it makes you sad, but because it fills you up.

You are their mother.
You won't forget.
And neither will they.