I had a horrible dream last night. I don't remember all of it, but there are certain images that are still in my head.
In my dream I became pregnant. It was very early in our pregnancy, like we had JUST found out we were pregnant after ovulating on my own and not needing any fertility treatments other than IUI, and we began sharing the news that we were expecting our second rainbow. Over the course of a few days, I had not only lost the pregnancy, but passed our twin boys in an egg that very much resembled a ping pong ball. I had thrown the egg away in the kitchen garbage can, and then realized that those were my sons and snatched the egg back out. I can still visualize taking the egg with both boys and trying to extract them so that Jon could see them and we could cremate them like we had done with Oscar and Bella. In my dream, they were fully formed, just REALLY tiny. I can still see them, with their little heads, brown hair and tiny bodies.
As if all that had happened in the dream up to this point wasn't bad enough, the true horror came next. I wanted to extract the bodies of my sons from the egg they were in, except during the extraction, which was a lot like removing scotch-tape from a wrapped present, I decapitated the son on the right. That's correct, I was ever so slowly removing the "tape" when my little boy's body remained attached to the "tape" while his head remained affixed to the egg. In my dream, and in real-life as I rethink this, I'm horrified. Here I was, celebrating that my body did what it was supposed to do in ovulating by itself and conceiving a child. Instead, I was mourning the deaths of two children, despite not using any fertility treatments to ensure only one child, as well as living with the horror of harming one of my sons further by tearing his little body apart.
I'm not sure why I had this dream. I'm not sure what it means. I can still put myself in that moment of the bodily harm and it tears come to my eyes. I know that it's just a dream, but I can't help thinking that maybe this dream is trying to prepare me for something as we approach our next appointment at our fertility clinic.
Oh Brianna, I am so sorry. What an awful dream. I've had several very disturbing dreams since my son died, often with the kind of imagery you describe. For me, I think it was a way of dealing with the guilt and the sheer horror of what I'd lived through, a kind of PTSD response. While they troubled me for a long time afterwards, I think eventually these thoughts are better out than in, and can be part of the healing process.
ReplyDeleteSending you so much love Mama.