Last night Brian had a nightmare. It's the first nightmare he's had about Mason. He dreamt that Mason was doing an art project. They were tracing Mason's hands and then all the sudden Mason started choking. In his dream Brian remembers trying to save him, but it was too late and he was gone. He remembers holding the hand tracings and sobbing. He woke to the sound of Mason and I talking over the baby monitor. It wasn't long after that he was Mason's shadow. When it was time for me to go, I had to take Mason from Brian's arms.
It's a short drive to daycare, but I already had too much time to think. I held him much tighter on the walk from the car. Kissing him the whole way and telling him how much I loved him. I thought seriously about calling in sick for a PTSD mommy mental health day, but I had a project I needed to finish at work AND I was doing my best to keep the crazy down. I was fighting tears as I told our wonderful sitter how worried I was and all about Brian's dream. She promised to watch him extra close and send text and picture updates throughout the day. I left feeling sick, but also knowing he was in good hands.
The drive away was pretty awful. I was playing out how the day would go if I got "the call" that something had happened and feeling more and more like I should just turn around and go get my boy.
Aside from the fact that Brian's dream was unsettling, there were even more factors at play. The biggest was that he had a nightmare the night Addison died.
I last felt Addison move in the very early hours of December 4, 2010. That morning Brian was getting ready for work as I was getting ready for my scheduled NST test. He kissed me goodbye and said nothing about his nightmare. I went to that appointment where I was told the worst news of my life that my daughter had no heartbeat and later Brian told me about that nightmare. He said all he remembered was seeing the word miscarriage in bright neon flashing letters. He was really worried, but knew better than to say something like that to his pregnant wife. Plus he knew we were well beyond the stage of being a miscarriage. Looking back I think his brain just didn't know the word stillbirth.
On top of those things, today is the 4th. The effing 4th. Same day, different month and year, but still one that makes me cringe.
I was so distracted at work today, but did my best to focus and finish my project. I'm sure it took me twice as long. I was inundating our sitter Julie with texts checking on Mason and she was reassuring and sending pictures.
I've never been so glad for the end of the day! I couldn't get to Mason fast enough. The second our eyes met he greeted me with a giant smile and a loud enthusiastic "MAMA"!
It was all Mason all the time when we got home. Wanna play with your train? Done! Wanna watch D.Tiger while you eat dinner? Sure! Wanna eat only bread and no spaghetti for dinner? Just this once. Oreo for dessert? Here ya go! More train play followed by extra books and longer time spent rocking in the chair together never felt so good.
The thing is that you can't live every day as if it were your last. Or at least I can't. I still have to work and Mason does need to eat complete meals minus dessert and go to bed on time, but every once in a while nights like this just need to happen after the day we had.
Fear, grief, PTSD just never really goes away. Most days I can force it down, but today it won. Logical me loses when it comes to realistic me because loss is just way too real.