It has been two years and four months since the birth and death of Penelope and James. In that time I have not once had a dream about them. I have longed to see them in my dreams, since that is the only place that they still exist. Last night it finally happened. It was weird, nonsensical and disjointed as dreams often are. But they were there. I held them in my arms, kissed them, took pictures of them and told them how much I loved them. They got to be held by their big sister, something they never experienced in real life. They looked nothing like what they actually looked like, but it didn't matter, it was still them.
I woke up feeling happy this morning. I got to see my babies again, even if it was only a dream. Then as I started trying to explain my dream to my husband I started feeling a lump in my throat. The realization began to hit that it was just a dream and I will never again be able to hold my precious daughter and son in my arms. The harsh reality hit me all over again and it was heartbreaking.
Even over two years later it sometimes hits me just as hard as it did
that first day. It literally takes my breath away and uncontrollable
tears well up in my eyes.
I know these intense moments of grief will pass as they always do. I
will soon be distracted by life. Caring for my four year old and
newborn daughter, laughing with my husband, Doctor appointments, folding
laundry and wrapping Christmas presents. James and Penelope will once
again fade in the dull aching in my heart. But for now, this morning I grieve. I cry all the tears I need to cry. I sit in the
anger and bitterness and unfairness that they are gone.