Hope…

Last night I had a dream.  This dreams stands out to me because ever since starting Lunesta more than a month ago, I haven’t been able to recall any of my dreams the following morning.  I sleep and I sleep deeply.  But last night was different.  As I slept deeply, my mind wandered and delved into my imagination.  I dreamt and when I woke up, I remembered everything.

Last night I had a dream.  This dream’s name, I call Hope.  Hope was a baby, a newborn, that was mine.  She joined Jimmy, Sophia and I.  There was no birth in my dream, it just started with me holding her.  A smile on my face, fear in my head.  I chose in the dream to name her Hope, not because of all the hopes and dreams I had for her but purely on the fact that I “hoped” I would not suffer from Postpartum Depression and Anxiety again. 

Baby Hope.  I looked at her and saw the same blue eyes Sophia has, dark blue like the depths of the ocean with lighter flecks.  Unlike Sophia whose hair was dark brown at birth, Baby Hope was born with dirty blonde hair with red highlights.  So precious, so innocent.  I cradled her until my dream fast-forwarded a bit.

In the next flash, I was in a huge house, more like an English Manor than a Mansion with room after room.  Some had doors closed.  Other rooms were huge and felt like they were dominating me.  I was running through these rooms, my breath short, head filled with a thousand thoughts.  I could not, for the life of me, find my children!

Room after room I was shouting for Sophia and Baby Hope.  I ran into a few familiar faces from my life, but they didn’t know where they were.  When I finally reached Sophia, as I embraced her, I kept asking her, “Where is Hope?” Her response, “Mommy, check the crib over there.  She should be sleeping.”  When I went over to the crib, sure enough Baby Hope was in there sleeping. 

At this point, I had more of an OOBE (Out Of Body Experience) in my dream where I was now looking down on myself.  How could I as a mother not know where my children were?!  Now I was watching myself as I become overly flustered trying to find Baby Hope again because it was time to feed her.  Again, I was running, room after room, searching for her, telling everyone it was time for her to get fed.  Only I can feed her, breast is best.  The me that was watching all this like a movie noticed it right away… once again I was falling down the rabbit hole of Postpartum Anxiety.  She started to shout at me, “You need to calm down, you know what will happen next!” But like anyone shouting at a TV screen, I, like the actors, couldn’t hear her.  Postpartum Depression would surely be joining me.

Last night I had a dream.  I had a beautiful newborn baby girl with oceanic blue eyes like her older sister and strawberry blonde hair.  Last night, I lost her in a house full of rooms.  Last night I lost myself to a disease I had before

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