A Bad Dream

So last night I had a dream about MJ. Its only the third time I have dreamt about him. The other two were good dreams, this one was not. I dreamt we were at my parents house for the holidays and I suddenly realized that MJ was missing and that he was still in the hospital at Children's Mercy and I hadn't gone and seen him in months, and never called to check on him and see how he was doing. I started crying and I thought I was this horrible mother that left her baby in the NICU and never looked back. I wanted to pick up and go and just leave (my parents house is in Chicago, and Children's Mercy is in Kansas City), but it just wasn't a feasible thing to do. I was crying and crying because I had left MJ for months. I wondered how big he was getting, and how much better he was doing. I remember thinking that when I was able to finally see him, I could probably old him, and he would be so big by now.

And then I woke up, and I realized that the reason I was missing MJ was because he isn't here, he isn't at Children's Mercy, and he never will be again. His ashes rest on my mantle, and thats the closest thing I will ever have to holding him again.

It was a bad dream, and while I think all the time how I love having dreams about my son, I really hope that I never have one like this again.