Dreams #NaBloPoMo

Before I start this post, I want to clarify that my miscarriages were early on and I didn't "know" what gender they were but I just had that gut feeling and the dreams that helped me to "determine" what they were. If that makes any sense.

Sammy posted recently how after she had a dream about little Bram's death, she started praying for God to show her the future.
To let Bram come to her in her dreams.

When I read this post it sparked a not-so-distant memory of mine.

I had suffered through two miscarriages.

My first miscarriage was in 2003. I was only 17 years old but as soon as I found out I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to keep the baby.. My baby.. There were a lot of issues to begin with.
I never kept track of my cycles, obviously, but the baby never developed.
I had blood drawn every two days. It was miserable.
I remember my heart just dropping when they called with the hormone levels in my blood stream. At first when they said it had risen I was so happy, but they said it was not rising as fast as it should. I knew then that my baby was not going to make it.

I got to see the heartbeat once. It was amazing.

After having the miscarriage I had a dream nightmare of him being taken away from me. It was awful and I hated it.

I was so distraught over so many things, not getting to change diapers, hear his laugh and see him grow up, but the biggest and hardest thing for me was that I wouldn't know what he looked like or how he would have felt in my arms.

Quite a while later after a lot of tears, pain and praying I got the dream. It was a very short dream but it was just enough for me.
It was this:

One day I doing laundry. The back door was wide open and I was carrying a heavy basket of cleaned laundry from the drier to my room. As I passed the back door I heard my sister say something about Tayte being in the dirt in the backyard. She was saying it was a miracle and he was alive. I dropped my basket of laundry which went all over the floor (which I felt was significant as I have a huge aversion to germs to the point that I wear shoes in my house). I ran out to find my son laying in the dirt under a swing set.
He was alive. He was well. He was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.
As I scooped him up into my arms we gazed into each others eyes. He had the most beautiful green eyes. A thin little nose and tiny mouth.
I held him. Hugged him. Kissed him. Repeatedly told him how much I loved him.

In an instant I was awake again. I was crying. Praying. Closing my eyes and remembering that little face. It was a face of peace. He was good. He was happy. He was beautiful.

I remember the feeling of him in my arms. The love. The tenderness. The softness. Him.

I have that little face memorized. I have the feeling of him in my arms memorized.
I love him and now, 9 whole years after losing him, I find myself weeping over my loss. I love him.


My second miscarriage happened a little over a year later, in 2004.
The pregnancy was going well compared to how my previous pregnancy was going.
I went in when I found out I was pregnant. I was about 4 weeks along. Not a lot to see, but I was reassured that it was simply because it was in the beginning of the pregnancy.

I worried for 4 agonizing weeks. I just wanted to see my baby. I wanted my baby to be healthy. The 8 week ultrasound was great. We saw her little heart beating. It was amazing to see. The baby had grown perfectly for those 4 weeks and I felt such relief!

I couldn't WAIT for my 12 week appointment! I was so excited to see my baby.
I was beside myself with knowing that was going to be the day I HEARD my baby's heartbeat.

I went in. I was made to lay on the table. They squirted the warm blue jelly on my tummy and placed the doppler to my belly. From one side to the other and back. Up high and down low. Pressing harder and lightening up. Then I heart a "whish whish". I smiled so big and the nurse looked down at me and gave me a look of sympathy as she explained that what I had just heard was too slow for a baby and that it was my heart beat.

I cried because I knew right then I had lost my baby. She called the doctor in to do an ultrasound just to be sure.

I looked at the black screen with this tiny little person inside of my womb. There was no heartbeat. I cried more. I couldn't even talk. I couldn't think.

I felt like my world was crumbling around me and that there was no reason to even be living. What had I done wrong? I took my vitamins. I followed the "rules" for pregnant women. I did EVERYTHING you are supposed to do and I lost her anyway even when I knew of others who were smoking and drinking while pregnant and their babies were just fine.

I was so upset, but I put it into Gods hands.
I apologized for my sins. I was sorry for purposely turning my back on Him for "taking my first baby".

I had a nightmare that my little girl was ripped away from me by some demons. It was quite silly when you think of it in real life, but the nightmare seemed SO real. My baby girl was taken from me and I never got to see her.

Again I prayed. I cried. Just like with Tayte, I was so distraught over so many things, not getting to change diapers, hear her laugh and see her grow up, but the biggest and hardest thing for me was that I wouldn't know what she looked like or how she would have felt in my arms.

Some time later I had a dream on my little Angel.

I was in the hospital. My Angel was born early. I assume she didn't live long from the time I got with her in the drem, but it was long enough to see her. Feel her. Touch her. She was this beautiful baby with a cure button nose. A head full of dark curly hair like her dad. Hazel eyes. Her dad was there (even though in real life I hadn't talked to him in several weeks as he just stopped talking to me). We were holding our little girl dressed in this beautiful bright pink outfit with lace trimmings. I held her and hugged her and kissed her. I told her that I would love her forever. That I would see her again in Heaven.

And with that I was wide awake again.
I was crying and memorizing her little face and the feel of her in my arms.
It has been 8 years since losing Angel. I miss her like crazy. I weep for her.

But I know. I know in my heart I will see them when I leave this world. I will ger to hold them and kiss them.



I truly believe God sent me these dreams because he knew how badly I wanted to know what they would look like. How they would feel in my arms and how I got to say goodbye in a different way. It was like closure that I needed.

My babies. Tayte Lee and Angel Moral.
I will see you soon!