Next night, it was a little cool in the house, but I kept it that way so LM wouldn't get too warm and cause a coughing attack((still sick)). It was the night of the time change, so I expected her to wake up between 12:30 and 1:30am for a bottle. I woke up at 3:30 and realized she hadn't made a sound. I turn on the hallway light and walk in. She is lying as still as can be, and because her jammies are a little loose, I can't see her chest moving. I stick my finger in her hand and she doesn't squeeze. I touch her face and it was cool, she didn't open her eyes or move her face at all.. No, no, no, no, no, no is all I can remember thinking. I pick her up fast and she just melts into me, not making a sound, I pull her out a little and shake her (just once and not hard) she looked up at me as though I were insane. I sat in the rocker and started to cry..I kept thinking and wandering if I was going to be this way forever.. I was doubting my sanity, should I even be allowed to care for a baby? I changed her, fed her and rocked her back to sleep, holding her for well over an hour. I laid her back down, turned up the heat, and went to my bed and laid there, I think I fell asleep right before the alarm went off.
I realize she is 7 months old, and will eventually sleep through the night, sometimes not making a sound..its what most parents beg for right? So why does it make me turn into some sort of neurotic and paranoid freak of a person? Ella was sick. She fought for almost 5 months. It was not sudden..I will never forget what it was like holding her when she was gone..It is my worst fear to have that happen again..to hold a child I love when they are cold.. I do not walk around worrying she will pick up germs while crawling, I don't worry about this sort of thing all of the time, but when it does happen, it certainly makes me question whether I will ever be normal again..will I ever NOT be paranoid that something bad is right around the corner?
8 comments:
Oh, Jen. What horrible, horrible dreams. The trauma that you've been through is just so much-you've seen and experienced things that are just too much for a human. You love LM so much and you worry about her.
When Avery was first born, I had horrible nightmares like this. Now, even when I'm awake, I do the same thing-run to check-can't see breathing-the other day I flopped her over and she started crying because I scared her so bad. I felt awful but I had to know that she was ok.
I'm so sorry.
Thinking of you, my friend.
Love!
I am so sorry about the dreams. That's horrible. I have the same fears and I haven't been through what you have...so I can't imagine! Hugs.
I haven't lost a child and still have the paranoia that you have. Probably not to the same extent as you but I do have it. I haven't found out how to live with the fact that things can be normal even though I haven't had any losses. Weird, I know, but that is my feelings.
The same thing happens to me. Paranoia. Every night before bed I have to check Sarah, more than once. I've carried it one step further though and I check Josie too. I have to see that both are safe, covered up properly, and breathing well before I can go to sleep. And if I get up in the night I have to go through the whole checking process again... I too am terrified of something happening, especially because Marie was called Home in the night...
Your fears are totally normal. Before Teagyn passed the death of a child only happened to other people. Not my family. The unthinkable happened. You now know your not untouchable, and it sucks.
When you start waking up checking to make sure your hubby is still breathing (like I do) that's when you need to seek help!!
I check to see if Lainey is breathing often. I even do it to Kyndra too.
Even though I have months to go on this pregnancy, I imagine I will be the same way.
I dreamt that my eight-year-old daughter Naomi died. Her little body lay in a box in my living room. She was on her side, ankles crossed, wearing a white dress. She looked as though she were asleep. We had ordered three cakes (presumably for my three children's birthdays - they are very close together). The cakes for my other children were colorful and fun, but Naomi's was white with white roses. My husband, who had to leave town the day before the viewing, had requested that the cake read "Remember to say goodbye". I didn't think this was appropriate and asked that the words be left off the cake. When my husband returned, he was very upset to see that the inscription had been "forgotten". I said that I was sorry with the air of someone who would make a better choice next time. I then realized that this was it, there would be no next time.
When I awoke, I had to remind myself that it was just a dream. I tried to shake the feeling of dread that dwelt within my chest. Grabbing my crutches (I have a sprained ankle), I made my way to the living room (where my children were sleeping) and made sure my children were all breathing. I decided to do some laundry. As I was gathering laundry from the children's room, my eyes fell upon the mess of Polly Pocket dolls; Barbie dolls; books; and guitars that Naomi had left there the night before. Normally this sight would have brought anger to my heart, and I would have yelled at Naomi when she awoke; but today I stopped the anger. I thought "How would I feel if Naomi really had died?" I crawled into the room and touched the perfectly aligned dresses for the Polly Pocket dolls; I saw her little dolls that she had "put to bed" before I put her to bed the night before; I saw the magical creature figurines from the game that she has been asking me to play with her all month (how would I feel if I no longer had the chance?); I saw one of the books that she reads to her younger brother; I saw her favorite science book open to a page on water transport; I saw her scribbled, pretend writing from "Naomi land"; I saw her pink guitars and her travel kit that we got her for her birthday last month; and I began to cry.
Lord, please never let me forget how lucky I am that my children will wake up and play with their toys today. Please never let me forget how lucky I am that I can still play that game with Naomi. I'm greatful that I still have time to continue teaching her to read and write. Never let me forget how lucky I am that I still have time to hug and kiss her and tell her how sorry I am for all the mean words and unnecessary anger. Lord, please never let me forget how much I love my children; and Lord, please comfort and bless all those who have run out of tomorrows with the ones they love.
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