I had a horrible dream the other night. I didn't realize how horrible it was until I woke up...really until a few hours into my day when I had a mini-meltdown at my desk.
I dreamt that I was wandering around a hospital (not any hospital I recognized) looking for the NICU but I kept getting lost. Up and down elevators, through swinging doors and down the the same corridors over and over again. In the dream I was clueless...no panic, no worry, no stress, just resignation. I remember thinking "Well this is annoying" and getting back in the elevator to try again.
It was only after I was at work and sitting at my desk that I realized why it was so horrible. Jack was there. He was right there. I was searching and not even realizing what I was searching for. Why didn't I try harder!?! I could have seen him, touched him, held him....if only for that moment. For that one intangible moment that would vanish when I awoke.
I hear people who have lost loved ones complain that they dream of them for months, even years after. I haven't, not even once. This was the closest I have come and I couldn't even get a vision of him to comfort me.
I feel like this was my attitude for the short 66 days that we had him. No sense of urgency, no gut-wrenching worry or panic, just resignation. Not necessarily in a bad way, just understanding that this was how it was. That this was the path God had laid out for us and we just had to trust him and he would lead us through it. I get mad at myself aometimes for not making more of those precious moments with Jack. If only I had realized how finite those moments were I would have stretched them out, lived more in the moment. Or, would I have spent them in a panic without truly being able to enjoy them.
I wonder if I had known what was to come if I would have been so trusting with my heart. I sat next to a mother of 2 preemies at the March of Dimes awards ceremony. After sharing Jack's story she commented that she had often thought about losing her babies and felt that she held back from bonding with them in the hospital. I realized that the thought of losing Jack rarely, if ever, crossed my mind. That may sound naive of me, but I don't look at it that way. It's not in my nature to hold back my emotions. I could not have looked at him and not have been instantly in love, permanently bonded to my little man.
I look at it as God's blessing to me admist of this horribly imperfect situation. Although I had so little time with Jack, I enjoyed every moment. Very little of it was spent worrying or second guessing. I was confident that God would take care of Jack...and I continue to be confident that he is.
Saturday night in Chiang Mai
3 weeks ago