I can't really remember the details, there are a lot of images going through my mind, but basically what happened was I had the baby. He was little and beautiful and perfect, and then I passed him into the arms of another. They were adopting him, and I felt calm and peaceful about it at first, like it was what should happen. Then I was sitting around the next day, talking with a friend of mine who had also placed their baby for adoption, and it hit me. HARD. I started panicking, I needed to find my baby NOW, and what on earth had I been thinking? My friend was sympathetic, she knew that the reality of it would hit after-the-fact, and she knew what I was going through, but I was just losing it. In the dream the baby's father wasn't Matt, but I was married to him still, and that had been part of the reason I was placing the baby, but then I realized, "But I'm married! We've been trying, and I just had a baby! Why is he gone? I don't get it..." I knew I needed him back with me, but I was confused, because I knew I'd be taking him from someone else, and I didn't want to hurt them. I just needed my baby. I didn't know what to do or where to find Matthew.
I started wandering around my hometown, looking for Matt everywhere so that I could talk with him, and by that point the dream had changed so that Matt WAS the father, and I needed to talk with him before the 30-day wait was up and we couldn't change our minds any more. I kept looking and looking and was starting to grow desperate and depressed, when finally I found Matt and I started frantically talking to him about it, but he didn't seem to to be listening, he just kept talking about business stuff and people waiting to get their residency cards or something stupid like that.
And then I woke up.
It's funny because I'm awake, the dream wasn't real, and the baby is fine, and yet I can't shake it. I was sitting in bed, hugging my pillow and crying to Matt (more like sobbing, really) and I just didn't have motivation to go anywhere or do anything. I didn't want to get up and have breakfast because after that I knew Matt would be leaving to go to work and I'd be left sitting around alone. Staying wrapped up in blankets just seemed like a better idea. I had (and still have) no idea what I was going to do today, because I cleaned the house all day Saturday and felt absolutely no motivation to go take pictures, work on photoshop, read my books, or do anything at all. 2 months is feeling like an eternity.
I did get up and eat, but I've just been walking around like a zombie all morning. I took a nap for an hour so I don't feel as tired, but I still feel directionless. All I really feel like doing is baby-related stuff, like getting my rocking chair and putting it together (manual labour sounds great and distracting right now) but it's expensive and I've registered for it. I can't think of any baby stuff I could possibly do right now, so I'm going a little crazy. I feel like I either need to do everything baby, or nothing at all, and blow this popsicle stand for a few days just to get my mind off of things. But that's not really an option either because we have classes, a midwife appointment, my 3D ultrasound (how I wish it was today...) and then stake conference this coming weekend. I'm almost at the point where they wouldn't let me on a plane, so anywhere we'd go would have to be in driving distance, and I can't think of anywhere to go.
Sorry, I know I'm complaining a lot, I'm just having a lot of trouble bucking up and smiling today.
So, you might be wondering how on earth the title of this post could be called "A bad dream, a GOOD day", but there IS a reason for it. Today, as in November 16th, 2009, hasn't been a good day, but today is 7 years since I was introduced to the church, and THAT was a good day. A great day. One of the best, I'd say.
I'll explain a little (or a lot, depending on how much my fingers and thoughts run away with me...) I was 18. A few months previously I had been sitting around with a couple friends talking about religion, and I had decided that it wasn't for me. The scriptures talked about how God was jealous and was always doing all these things to punish people, and I just couldn't love a God like that. I was happier without all the guilt, and the struggles to feel the spirit and never succeeding. I felt like God couldn't love me. A week previously I had ended a completely crummy and depressing relationship after I lost it, drank too much, and told the guy I cared about that I hated that he was going to join the army, and wasn't I enough to make him want to stay. I swore I'd never drink again (true story, and I never did). In short, I was feeling worthless, unloved, and unimportant.
Then I went to a highschool debate for the weekend (nerdy, I know. Don't get me started.) I had made a friend at these debates a couple years previously, but we never managed to keep in touch afterwards. Well, at this debate, I was surprised to find that he was in the same council as me (200 kids there, numerous councils, and he is in the same small, 10-person council as me.) Not only that, but we were going to be sitting next to eachother, as the councils were arranged alphabetically, and he was Russia, I was Syria. We talked a lot, and decided to blow off the dance and hang out the Saturday evening because I didn't know anyone else at the dance or debate who was older than 14, and the idea of dancing with a bunch of 9th graders was kind of ridiculous to me.
We wound up in an empty McDonalds, and I vented to him about how stupid religion was. He didn't agree. He said he was Mormon, and he told me about some of his beliefs. Now, I have a tendency to make conclusions based on little to no knowledge about a subject (foolish, I know) but I'm willing to listen to someone who knows something more about it than I do, and learn from them. So I had closed myself off to religion, but here was someone who knew better, and I listened to what he had to say. I don't remember everything we talked about, but I do remember telling him about how messed up and hazy the definitions of Heaven and Hell were, and how it didn't make sense. Surely there are people in between, who don't fit in either place? He agreed with what I said, and told me about the 3 degrees of glory and outer darkness. It was all so new to me, but I felt something so strongly as we talked. Something I had only felt once before and that had been snuffed out as quickly as it came. I felt the spirit. I knew what he was saying was true, because I could feel it with every part of me. I was excited and wanted to learn more.
He had to go home that night because, instead of staying for the end of the debate the next day, he was going to church. While I was driving home that Sunday afternoon, I kept my eyes closed and listened to the other people in the van say I was asleep. I was happier about that because then I could just think. I thought about how my life was going, and how unhappy I had been, without completely realizing it before. I knew I wanted to make it better, and I resolved to start then and there. This might sound silly, but my first resolve was to stop swearing. I just didn't think it was something my friend would do, or that I should do either, but it was a big concession to make for me, because I listened to a lot of punk music and actually really enjoyed the parts where the singer put especial emphasis on a swear word. So there, that was my first step.
That night I talked on the phone with my friend, and he told me about the Book of Mormon. I wanted one, so that I could start reading it and learning more, and, once again, I felt the spirit. I don't think I had really stopped feeling it since the night before, and I felt so much peace. I had been going to church since I was in grade 5, always with friends, and always different churches (I counted once, I think I had been to at least 4 different ones regularly, and probably another 4 sporadically.) Until I was introduced I had been going to church with some good friends for more than 2 years. I liked going because it was fun, but I struggled to feel anything when I was there. I remember going to a camp one time and crying my eyes out because everybody was happy and saying how they felt the spirit and all I felt was emptiness. I didn't know it at the time, but I was looking for the church where I would be able to feel like I had come home, and that Heavenly Father really did know and love me like I had been told.
2 weeks after I had talked with my friend, I went to his church for the first time. It wasn't what I had pictured, but the difference between how I felt there and how I had felt anywhere else was like night and day. Where before I had been frustrated, felt isolated, and uncomfortable, there, and for the first time, I felt happy, hopeful and excited. The words spoken felt right, and I knew I had found the truth. I decided just 3 weeks after talking with my friend that I wanted to be baptized. I faced some opposition when it came to this decision, but I felt that after waiting, searching so long, and being so unhappy, that I didn't want to wait any more, and that I needed and was ready to make that step. In January of 2003 I was baptized as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
It hasn't always been easy since that point; goodness knows I'm so far from perfect that it's laughable. But I am amazed at how different my life is right now from how it could have been. I had no motivation to improve myself and be a kinder person than I was. The thought of doing so had never even crossed my mind. I was a complete snob at times, and not the greatest of friends (not saying I am NOW either, but if you only knew...ha) I used to get depressed at times, and while getting out of a funk is still something I struggle with, I shudder to think of how I would cope with life challenges without the eternal perspective of the gospel, the absolute knowledge of a loving Heavenly Father, and the gift of the Holy Ghost to strengthen me when I am weak and weary.
So in conclusion, yes, November 16th, 2002 was a great day for me. One of the best, as I said before. And you know what? Remembering all these things has helped, even if only marginally, to make November 16th, 2009 be a better day too. It might even turn out to be a good day afterall.
Photo by Mark Mabry
Photo by Mark Mabry
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