I don’t ever dream of Rowan.  I didn’t when I was pregnant either – and during those months, I felt a little alarmed at the seeming lack of subconscious connection to my baby.

Now, I know better.  I mean, I actually wish I would  dream about him – kind of like being a teenager and believing the idea that if your last conscious thought was of your unsuspecting crush, that you would have magical dreams about them all night long.  I do that.  When I say I know better now, I mean that I understand that dreaming of something or not says nothing about where it fits in your soul.

I’ve wondered if maybe it’s a kindness – maybe dreaming of him with us would cause the waking hours to feel even more empty.  And by empty, I don’t mean meaningless – I find lots of meaning in my life.  I mean empty – full of holes and cracks that Rowan was supposed to fill.  I still want to dream of him.

Today is 3 months since our sweet boy died.  It feels like it’s been 3 years…. partly because the days really crawl by and time is magnified…. but also because I can’t believe we’re doing so well.  In the beginning, it felt like a black hole.  It felt like there would be no way to feel joy again, to feel normal again.  Now, just 3 months later, I feel like I’ve made years of progress.  From the beginning, I knew that I needed to find my way back to finding joy in the little things, especially in my life as a mom.  Because of the nature of losing a baby, it’s easy to have that taken from you.  But I didn’t want Aiden to be the sacrifice… he needs me more now than ever.

Now, 3 months later, I usually brush my teeth.  I also shower frequently, and get dinner on the table most of the time.   I go for walks and play with Aiden, I meet up for coffee with friends, I’m getting back to work.  Chase and I hold each other, we cry, we eat too much ice cream.  We still haven’t taken the crib down.

And last night, I dreamt of Rowan.