Last Friday, Noah turned eight years old. I know, I’m a bit late here. We celebrated by going to a baseball game. He was a little disappointed that it wasn’t the Cubs but, overall, he had a good time.
He even got to see my tweet with his picture up on the screen.
So I had a couple of crazy dreams. Or maybe it was all one, not sure. In any case I gave birth to two babies, I’m not sure if we’re talking twins or two singletons though it seemed two different times. They were two and three pounds, respectively. Which, in this dream, was apparently totally normal. Yes, this from a woman who has birthed a child that was over 11 pounds!
The oddest thing was that one of them was born with their heart and lungs outside of their body. I’m talking not even touching. The midwife who I went to see somehow managed to get the lungs and heart back inside and baby was good as new. Yeah, I don’t know either.
I woke up shortly after.
Have fun interpreting that one. 😉
Today we should have been celebrating your ninth birthday. Instead we celebrated your birthday as we have for the past six of them, at your gravesite. It’s still so much not fair.
We all love and miss you, Bow.