Awhile back Ambrose's "up all night" schedule was just killing me. Then I had a dream that we had to give him back. Upon waking from the dream I found myself sitting in the rocking chair in the very, very early morning hours holding a blissfully sleeping baby in my arms. His placid face, heavy breaths and warm weight healed my heart. I've been much calmer about waking up all night since then as the dream really brought it home that I would much rather be waking up all night to a warm, wonderful baby than be sleeping through the night and have no baby.
Being the somewhat religious (if liberally so) person that I am, I figured God was giving me a little reminder as to my priorities, and telling me to be grateful for what I did have (a healthy, happy baby boy) as opposed to sorrowful over what I didn't have (a good night's sleep).
I guess he must read my blog as he saw fit to send me yet another dream after my little rant and whine session this morning...
After posting I handed off the baby, whined to my husband about being up since 4 am and OMG P's been bouncing off the walls since 5:15 when the baby finally went back to sleep and it's quarter of 7 and OMG I'm tired and I shouldn't have to deal with this crap blablabla, etc etc.
I then went to the bedroom, took my pills, stacked up 4 blankets and squeezed in under them because dangit I was cold and I wanted to be nice and warm and sleeping!!!
Before I knew it I was in dreamland. I do have most of my dreams one it's light out, meaning that if I don't get to go back to sleep in the mornings for that hour or so I often don't dream, and after a few days of that I get quite crabby. I need my REM sleep! And oh, I got it...
In my dream we were... us. We were Nik and Megan. We looked a little different, and there was a bit of a film grain as I slid from first to third person and back repeatedly. I had a baby on my hip most of the time. And there was Paxton. Wild, crazy Paxton doing wild, crazy things. And then... There was the creepy woman.
Maybe it was the SPD fairy.
In my dream I called her my mother in law, though she clearly wasn't (and I don't find my MIL creepy!). She was an old, thin, grand motherly woman who just... showed up.
I know there was supposed to be family at our house in the dream and we were entertaining, so I guess that's where she came from...
Anyway at one point Nik and I were looking out the window, watching all the toys in our backyard slide down back through a hole in the gate until they were outside our yard. And suddenly the swingset was in the woods. And suddenly P was happily going down the slide. And next thing I know... she was there. The creepy old woman. She was just plucking weeds and standing between me and a smiley boy, who should have been in bed according to the dream.
My heart stopped. I knew something wasn't right. Paxton took off running and I threw the baby at Nik and took off myself. He was scared of the old lady. I caught up with him. We ran together...
I forget what happened next in the dream, but it progressed for a bit. I know there was some stuff about the old woman and other relatives being in our house. They fit into our house well, unobtrusive and polite, rarely coming out of their rooms. The old lady didn't. Friends in the dream asked her relationship to us, questioned us about her. I was scared of her. I was angry at her. I just wanted her to go away.
It was like she was haunting my son...
There was one bone chilling scene in the dream toward the end. I was in the car late at night driving through the neighborhood. It was our old car, my mini van that we sold at CarMax a few weeks ago. Both boys were in their carseats asleep and peaceful. I looked into the rearview mirror a couple times but something struck me as being off. I turned on the light on the roof of the car and... there she was.... leering at me in the rearview mirror... just... staring.... in her own carseat in the third row back. Sitting absolutely quietly.
I was flipping petrified.
My in dream mind scrambled for a reason. Why was she there (I was watching her as no one else would)? Why was she in a car seat herself (old and frail)? Why was she looking at me like that (she hates me and she's pure evil)?
Again, to reiterate, in my dream I called her my mother in law, but even in dream I knew that wasn't the case. See, IRL, I like my mother in law, she's not creepy (or old!) and she doesn't scare me. Dream lady looks and acts nothing like her and scared the bejeesus out of me!!!
So, in dream, I realize... this isn't going to end... she's haunting Paxton. She's LOOKING at Paxton. Her bony hand was touching my son. She was going after him and wasn't going to leave him alone.
So... dream me made the awful choice.
Dream me dropped the old woman off at a neighborhood church (none exists in our neighborhood that I know of). Dream me gave her some coins to put in the basket, had a little snit fight, and drove off knowing she'd find a way to follow not long after. Dream me drove around to lose her. Dream me called friends, tried to see if someone, anyone, could take Paxton for awhile, just until we lost her. Dream me found no one...
So dream me drove to KidMax. I'm not kidding. It was a small parking lot full of used cars at the back of an apartment complex in our neighborhood (that also doesn't really exist). There were families waiting in lawn chairs around campfires. I drove in, parked my car as far from the street as possible, and approached an employee with my paperwork. I was in third person then, observing me pulling out a payment quote and exiting my minivan, assuming that like in real life I was returning to CarMax, showing them my paperwork, handing them my keys and picking up a check.
That wasn't the case.
I carefully picked up the sleeping Paxton, who never woke. I carried his suddenly light body over to a lawn chair and placed him down gently. I was immediately approached by another woman who had a daughter and wanted a son. In fact she was more interested in Ambrose. Dream me was in tears, heart breaking, trying to explain that Ambrose is still nursing and can't be moved, but unable to explain that the whole point was to save him because this was the only way to get the evil old lady to stop haunting him. If someone could just take him, far far away, she might not find him. Ever. She wasn't haunting Ambrose, she was haunting Paxton and since we couldn't lose her, since she was a part of our family, we had to place him someplace safe. And it was absolutely killing me...
Then, suddenly, I woke up. My bedroom door had burst open and there was a small Ethiopian boy with a huge smile screaming "Wake Up Mommmmmyyyyy!" He turned off my sound machine for me, as he does every morning, then rushed back downstairs so he didn't miss any of his TV show.
I have never been so happy to have him wake me up.... Never.
And I think it will be a long time before I forget that sensation, that relief that this was all a dream, only a dream!!! Creepy old lady isn't real, just a figment that likely symbolizes his SPD. And no he's not going anywhere, he's staying forever and ever as he's our son and hyperactive though he may be we still adore him eternally.
I gleefully got ready this morning, rushed downstairs with my yogurt and coffee then cuddled with P on the couch for a few minutes. Knowing that I could use it as a good example of how he can act and speak with us, I was honest with him. I told him I had a very scary dream and in the dream he went far away. I told him I don't want him to go away, I want to stay with him, and the thought of him not living with us made me very sad. He just smiled and gave me a tight hug and told me that I was being silly. Of course he was going to stay with me! Silly mommy!
So, yeah... definite reminder of priorities!
I would much, much, MUCH rather deal with SPD and PTSD and anxious attachment and normal 4 year old boyisms than not have my son at all. In fact, a couple days ago I was mentioning how much rougher P used to be, how I had to hold him down while he shrieked and fought me for an hour or so every day for both nap and bedtime. "And you never thought of sending him back with a note?" she asked, in reference to the recent Russian adoption Snafu. And it occurred to me... there have been a few awful days when I wondered why I chose this. And a few times where I acknowledged that we likely not have willingly adopted a child who had all his issues on paper. And yet, I do not regret making him our son, I do not regret all the time spent with him, and as much as I wish things were easier I'm extremely grateful that we've been blessed with this bubbly, compassionate, funny little boy who calls us mom and dad. And no, I've never considered sending him back. Even the thought of him leaving our house for anything other than adulthood makes my heart tear a little....
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