I had a dream last night. I was pregnant and in labor, in a hospital bed, feeling my baby kick and roll inside of me. They told me I had lost my mucus plug and should start to feel serious contractions soon. Then the male nurse asked me if I would mind if my baby was used in some study after birth...Something about eyesight and playdough (can you tell what living nightmare I had at my house yesterday?). I told him I would have to think about it and he sent a bunch of people in to see me to "explain the necessity" to me.
While I was waiting, I walked to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in a full-length mirror and saw I was wearing my sexy red nightgown. Hugely pregnant and wearing my red nightgown. Now, this isn't humanly possible, given the style of said nightgown and the enormity of my belly when pregnant. Stunned, I turned right around and went back to my room.
Then the people came in and I stood on my hospital bed throughout the meeting, rubbing my belly. When it was over, I told the whole room (which had at some point changed into a conference room with my bed at the head of the table, "no...I won't consent." I was, at this point, wearing the hospital gown again...Though it wasn't open in the back like most hospital gowns.
The people started to disperse, I climbed down from the bed, and the doctor who wanted to perform the study came up to me and said, "I thought perhaps if I could explain things a little more to you and answer your questions that you might consent." In that moment I had a realization and I told her, all while still rubbing my moving belly, "You don't understand. My last baby was stillborn. I won't share this baby with anyone...Not even for a moment. It's very important to me and you'll just have to forgive me."
Steve woke me and I almost didn't want to get out of bed because I could still feel the movement. It wasn't like I was dreaming it was Alex, I openly acknowledged that Alex was gone and this was a different baby. I wanted to savor that feeling. But at the same time, I wanted to shake it off and remove it entirely from my thoughts. I showered and felt sad when I ran my hand over my sagging belly...What is left of the last time I was pregnant.
The thing I remember is the movement in my belly. I kept my hand on the right side of my belly the whole time. And he kicked and wiggled so that I knew he was ok. The kicking let me know this baby was fine...I knew he was fine and we were all going to be fine...As long as I didn't listen to those people. But that feeling. I miss that feeling. I have, from the first day, felt a sort of emptiness that I can't describe to anyone. I simply don't have the words for it. It's obviously emotional. But it is physical too. I remember having a somewhat similar feeling after giving birth to Sam. But it seemed to correct itself and I felt better after the postpartum hormones wore off. I was feeling like "myself" again physically. Now I feel weak and empty. It's similar...But very different. Like I said, I really can't explain it adequately.
Luckily, I remembered to bake the biscuits for this morning's welcome reception for three new staff members at our office and I was able to forget the dream...For a little bit.