More about dreams

I'm laying on my bed. A woman comes in and calls herself a doctor. She is dressed all in white. I ask her if I were to get pregnant again, would I carry to term? No, she tells me. Absolutely not. If you carry to term, the baby will be dead. Will I have more children? No. She asks why I'm so sad. I tell her that I blame myself. It's my fault my boys died. It's my fault Lily spent so long hooked up to oxygen and monitors. I did that to my children. She tells me I didn't. I believe her.


I awoke in tears. I went to the bathroom, crawled back in bed, and woke up this morning without remembering. Until it all came flooding back a few hours later. Even as I write this, more and more come back to me.

Why can't I have both? Why did I believe her so easily when she said it wasn't my fault? For years I've held that blame to myself. Everything that I've done or not done in my life since then has been a direct result of that blame.

I've really been having a hard time lately. Crying more and lots on my mind. 'Tis the season I guess.

Holy shit...it's really been 4 years.