Crash and Burn
When Drew was born I had this very powerful dream. I dreamt that I was standing with Drew in an elevator, holding him in my arms. And Brynn was coming in the elevator, and the doors closed while she was trying to get in. In slow motion I was reaching out to Brynn with one hand as the doors squeezed together. She was crying and I was crying. And because I didn’t have 2 hands I couldn’t get to her fast enough. That was a fear and anxiety dream of being unable to get to Brynn because of Drew. I think it is a fear every mother has when they have a second child. How will this new being interfere with my relationship with my first? Will Brynn feel left out? Will I be able to parent her as well as I did before?
Last night I dreamed that I was at a Christmas pageant on, of all places, an airplane. Drew was in the pageant and I was in the seats. He wanted to come off the stage and sit in my lap but the teachers wouldn’t let him. And another little boy pushed him off the stage. I wanted to go down and comfort him but there were too many people and I couldn’t reach him. He was looking at me and crying. And I was reaching and trying and I just couldn’t get there. And then, all at once, the plane I didn’t actually know I was on until that moment, shimmied and flipped upside down. Then it flipped upright and the engine turned off. And I thought well this is it. And I couldn’t get to my son. And all the passengers started saying The Lords Prayer. I have had this type of dream many many times before.
It is not as if yesterday was particularly stressful in any way. The stress of my dream is a latent stress—one I always carry with me. And it is no coincidence that this dream takes place after the birth of Leah. In my heart I am afraid that Drew doesn’t get the time he deserves or needs. I feel so guilty. Even if I promised myself I wouldn’t.
My dream obviously signifies my own fear of powerlessness and of failure—of just being on a ride I can’t control. But of course, I am not. So I am reassuring myself this morning, as I promised myself I would. My kids are fine. I am fine. They are busily playing (oddly enough) with Drew’s roller suitcase. Brynn is a passenger with a British accent. (She’s very good at it.) They are enjoying each other and their morning. Every thing is OK. I am good enough, I am strong enough, and yes. I can do this.
