Really, really bad dreams....

One of the things I've thanked God for since Matthew has died is the lack of dreams. I know, many want to have wonderful dreams of their precious little ones and of course, so do I.

I just don't want to risk the horrible dreams in order to have the precious ones yet.

I'm a chicken. My heart hurts and honestly, I walk a very fine line in trying to make sure I *face* the pain but avoid anything I can at the same time. I love pictures of Matthew but haven't been able to put many up in our house yet because they hurt. His room is precious to me, but it breaks my heart. His lock of hair and little baby things--hat, blanket, handprints, etc...I'm SO thankful I have them, but even typing about them makes me sob and I get really, really overwhelmed when I force myself to go through his boxes and things.

I have enough pain just in day-to-day life. I try not to add any more in if I don't have to.

So, I have been really, really thankful that I have not had many dreams since Matthew died. Good or bad--just dreamless. One I do remember was about a week or two after he died; I was walking around with this 10 pounder plus baby boy (but who wasn't mine) and I put him down somewhere and I lost him. Couldn't find him. Felt horrible for his mother because I had lost her baby. Didn't know what to do for her...but he wasn't mine. That baby that was lost wasn't mine.

I guess that was what made it a dream.

Last night, I had a horrible nightmare. Woke up in the middle of the night crying, "God, please help me...someone help me..." and I even woke John up. It was gruesome and I won't go into details but the highlights were of several dead babies buried under a porch--mine was one of them, and there were a few others--all in plastic bags.

One baby rallied. And was dressed in a very weird, grey sweat jacket--head covered and coming for me. I almost swung a bat at it because I was scared of it and felt it wasn't right, but then thought, "Dear Lord...this is someone's baby," and even though the head was covered, I got the impression that the baby was scared. So...I didn't swing.

And then he came for me. And got me. And pinned me to a wall. And was about to do God only knows what to me.

And that's where I woke up, screaming.

This is why I'd rather not dream at all.

Of course, I couldn't go back to sleep and all of a sudden, I got this overwhelming fear that we are going to go to our appointment next week and they are going to tell us that the baby is no longer there. When I say overwhelming, I mean panic-attack overwhelming. All my chanting--"This one, she will keep," and "Lord, take this from me right now," and deep breathing was doing nothing.

I honestly don't know how I fell back asleep, other than by chanting those things in my head and begging God to take those thoughts.

And I'm still begging Him to take them because they are still here. I'm so glad that it's less than a week until our next ultrasound. I think I will feel much, much better going in then and having a better idea of growth and heartrate.

I know I didn't put it too much out there originally because the last thing I really wanted to hear was the obvious, "You need to stop worrying."

Duh. I'll also push the "Grow two inches," "Change eye color to green" and "Brown hair to blonde" buttons while I am at it.

I know that I need to stop worrying. I've already said it...I try very hard not to but it's just easier said than done.

I so desperately want this sweet little baby boy or girl to be ok. At our 6 week u/s, the heart rate was 88. The average range is 90-110. Dr. K said that was perfect, but to me, perfect is 90-110. Matthew's at that point in time (and I know babies are different; please don't feel like you need to tell me that) was 101.

The crown-rump length also dated the baby at 6w1d. I was 6w2d that day. So, in addition to a tad slower heart-rate, little Miney was also a day behind in growth. Someone told me, "Well, that's why the heart rate was a little slower...it's fine for that day's growth."

Which might hold water with me if my baby was not IVF. Not conceived at 1:30 pm on April 26. Not transferred back to my womb at nearly 72 hours later on April 29. There's NO confusion as to where my baby is on dating.

So...it's been a somewhat stressful week. I've been trying with all my might not to worry until our next ultrasound--baby will be bigger, heart rate and crown-rump length will be easier to measure...and I pray that it was just early with the last ultrasound.

Wednesday can't come fast enough. I just hope I don't have any more dreams in the meantime.