My Dream

I had a dream last night that our baby was a boy.

For many reasons I have always believed that. For the last few months (even before we conceived our baby), I felt that God gave me that recurring thought and wanted me to believe it. So I always had. Who wouldn’t want to cling to that… to know their child?

But lately — just barely, and almost subconsciously — I have been wondering if that was really true.

Well, God put my wonder to rest.

It’s almost like He really wanted to give me this. It is almost like it is His gift to me. It IS.

I can go on saying that I’ll never know for sure (at least not until I meet my child one sweet day)… but I believe God doesn’t want me to do that. I think He wants me to know this. And know it 100%.

My heart is soaring as I write this. Yes, I believe 100% that our first child was a boy. I will never be able to prove that with any tangible, earthly proof. But knowing God is sweetly, divinely communicating that to me — that’s enough for me.

Our first baby was a boy.

And thinking about him right now is making my heart just well up. I have overflowing joy.

I never knew how much I loved him until he was gone! But I know I loved him. LOVE him.

I had a crappy day yesterday. I’ve had a lot of good days recently, but yesterday was just one of those days where I didn’t feel good, I had all kinds of work crap being thrown at me, and I could feel my body just kind of clinching from the physical run-down and stress. Not the worst day, by any means. (If this is a “bad” day please give me more of them — this was nothing compared to what I’ve been through this year!) But not a good day compared to how well I’ve been doing recently.

Anyway…my point being… I am just overjoyed this morning. That’s the only word I keep thinking of, because it’s the only word that describes how I feel. My heart is just about to burst with love and joy for my child — the child I lost. Thank you God, thank you! You gave me something that has made my whole week. You gave me my child back, if only for a few minutes, and if only in a dream.

There I will give her back 
her vineyards,
and will make
the valley of trouble
a door of hope.

–Hosea 2:15


In the dream…

I must have made it to around 30 weeks or something — not yet full term, but definitely not still in the second trimester. I saw my sweet baby boy, and he was so tiny and perfect. We saw his little “wee-wee” and knew instantly that we were right — he was a boy! He was probably about 4 lbs. Just small enough to see everything, but not big enough to not have to struggle to live. But he wasn’t struggling. I somehow knew he wouldn’t live, but he wasn’t in any pain or struggling in the least. In the dream, I understood that this was the baby I had lost, and that I would not get to keep him. It wasn’t sad, it was more bittersweet. In fact, I was overjoyed in the dream because I got to be with my baby — I got to see him, spend time with him, know him. And I knew that I wouldn’t be able to for long.

God is so good.


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