I dreamed that Jimmy died. He died and in the dream and it happened after I had dealt with the death of a prior boyfriend. So two significant others in my life had died. I was crying a lot in my dream. I was screaming, "why does this keep happening to me?" People were trying to console me. I was hysterical. I had lost it.
I wonder if it had something to do with the fact that I went to bed sad and a little teary. Nighttime has always been hard for me post-injury. And, although it was excruciatingly difficult in the beginning, it's gotten easier. But the p.m. loneliness can still creep in.
A few nights ago (on the night of my frightful dream), I went in to tell Jimmy goodnight. He had already fallen asleep.
I got very sad. That was it. No more Jimmy for the night. I needed to go to my room and get myself ready for bed. It's these moments I miss sharing my bed with my husband.
Most nights, I remove my throw pillows and put them on the bench at the end of my bed. This night, I left all of them in the bed, on the other side of the bed. I hugged the pillows so hard they probably have a little less "oomph" to them now.
I cried myself to sleep. And then, the wretched dream. I wonder if my real body moved around a lot. I wonder if I said anything in my sleep. I wonder if I was crying in my sleep. I really have no clue.
But here's what I do know... I woke up scared shitless.
I put an ear to the air and it stayed there until I heard the sound of Jimmy's ventilator. The sound of the ventilator was comforting to me. I never thought I would type that sentence. Life is so cray.
Was this (another) cruel little lesson to get me to realize how precious life is? To slap me in the face and say: keep living, yo?
Just keep going.
My dream. My scary-ass dream. My dream made me thankful for life and our new journey. It made me thankful to share this new journey with Jimmy. And, it made me excited to share our new journey with you.
We're going to do this.
Jimmy and I have started taking the steps to begin IVF, or In vitro fertilization. After several consults and discussions, we decided it's going to the best route for us.
It's very exciting and very scary. Lots of emotions but I know it's the right thing to do. I know that because when Jimmy talks about it there's no regret, there's no hesitance in making this decision. There's no, "are we sure we're doing the right thing?"
That stuff comes from others, believe it or not. Not us.
We feel ready. This feels right. I truly believe we can be successful. Naive? Maybe. But I don't give a crap. I have no reason to believe we can't be a part of the majority who brings home a screaming, chaos-inducing, life-changing baby.
Because if we have proven anything, it's that we can do "life-changing."
I would love to share some of the experiences and emotions along the way, if you care to read them. This is going to be an amazing, horribly terrifying journey and I want to document it.
There's hope floating in the air around the Moore home.
The hope... it's-a-floatin'...