I have GOT to stop taking Tylenol PM's to help me sleep at night. Last night was one of worst dreaming nights of my life... it was terrible.
I dreamed that Paige (10 months) died. No one would tell me how she died - only that she was gone. The entire dream was about her funeral, with a teeny, tiny casket, and me trying to make it through the days that followed.
I was fighting with family who were trying to take down all the photos of her - in an attempt to help me forget her. I was begging everyone to answer why I wasn't allowed to hold her after she died.
My heart was breaking in the need to cuddle her; to protect her. I was crying because I couldn't imagine her going into heaven and being alone - she is so little - she would be lost without us to care for her and I was powerless to do anything... death is so final.
It was terrible - even now, my chest hurts from the anguish of knowing she was gone and trying to put the pieces back together.
What an awful night.
At 4am, Wade (3y) came in asking for a cup of milk. Ususally, I scold him for coming in my room in the dark. He knows better. But, last night, I was glad he woke me up. I happily gave him some milk and put him back to bed.... grateful for being done with that dream.
But, you know what happened? I fell back asleep and there it was still. Continued on until I got up again at 6am.
This must be on my brain because I know someone who just lost her 14 month old daughter in January. The child climbed out of the crib and fell between the crib and a dresser. Her head was wedged in an upward position and she couldn't breathe. She died.
Saddest part was that the parents were not home. They were up the street at a church picnic and had left their kids with a sitter who was supposed to dress the children and meet them at the party. Their 3 year old son found the baby.
I can only imagine the heartbreak that this couple has, but after my dream, I have kind of an idea.
Only mine was a dream... awful.
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