The only thing that makes some of the dreams ok is the fact that I know, I know, they’re just dreams. They aren’t real, they (usually) don’t come true. They won’t happen in real life.

I dreamed druring the night that I was carrying my beautiful friend’s baby. K has just this week found out that she is facing a future of a limited window of being able to naturally concieve and carry a baby to term. In this same week, my other friend, also K, found out that her precious baby had died and was going to miscarry.

Its been a long week, a trying week, a sad week. It is no surprise that my dreams have been littered with pregnancy, babies and loss.

I dreamed that I was carrying a baby for K. I clearly remember stating to a family member that the reason I was doing it was because I knew this baby was not mine, I was merely carrying it for my wonderful friend. I crowed with joy when I was able to tell DF I was 6 weeks pregnant with their baby. I was excited to be forced to have to reveal it to my work colleagues that I was in fact pregnant and needed to tell them because of the morning sickness I was suffering. I told my classes that the baby I was carrying was a wonderful blessing for a very close friend of mine.

I dreamed of staring at myself in my bathroom mirror, realising with a jolt that I was carrying a healthy prgnancy, this conclusion only reached as I stared at my perfect little belly under the patterened, fitted top I wore to work that day.

I dreamed of the gift I was able to give to K and her DF, a healthy baby for them to love forever.

I then sensed something was wrong, and madly spent an afternoon trying to get myself into an OB, just to check, because something wasn’t right.

Blood, followed by an ultrasound, followed by a shake of the head, followed by hysterical sobbing.

I woke up in a sweat, my pillow damn from tears.

The problem with vivid dreams is that because of the fact they are so realistic, they stick with me. For days.

For the love of life, I truly hope this is a dream that stays a dream….