I haven't been able to write for the last week. I thought things might get better after writing about it but its worse. This morning I woke up at 4 after dreaming that I had not just one but two dead babies inside me. It makes no sense at all but somehow I had a baby who died a while ago still in there and then got pregnant again without giving birth to the first one. I was in huge panic because the new baby was getting bigger and was running out of room so I had to get the first baby out of there. Then I was in my parents' basement and both babies just were out and of course dead. (and somehow cleaned up so there was no blood.) I wasn't really interested in the bigger baby but have a really clear memory of holding the tiny little new baby in my hand. It was the size of a walnut but was perfectly formed and proportioned like a full term baby and of course it was a boy. Then I remember some really weird thoughts about putting the babies in the freezer so I could keep them with me but being worried about freezer burn. Creepy, I know, but I have no control over what my brain spews out while I'm asleep.
It doesn't take a shrink to figure out that I am worried about losing another baby. Of course I'd have to get pregnant to be able to lose another baby first. Too bad I saw the counselor yesterday, so he can't analyze it for me.
Tomorrow is 10 months since Reid died. This past weekend I was lying in bed with a headache and kept thinking of the sound fat little hands make on the hardwood floor as a 10 month old crawls down the hallway to find mommy when she tries to sneak away for some "me" time. I wasn't trying to torture myself but I just couldn't stop thinking about whether Reid would be crawling or using the walls to walk by now. I swear I could see his happy little face smiling at me from the doorway of my bedroom. I followed that up by having a huge argument with D.G. on Sunday. (You guys aren't the only ones I'm not communicating with these days.)