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Jenna spoke recently of dreams and mentioned that many birth moms dream of the children they placed for adoption. Five years before my son found me, cracks appeared in my denial armor. Nightmares plagued me and yet, I made no connection to the loss of my son.
Many nights I woke up sobbing and my husband wondered what was troubling me to wake up so distraught. The nightmare was always the same. To probe its meaning would have meant dropping the denial mode. I was not quite ready. To attach meanings to dreams or nightmares is not something I am likely to do. However, the nightmare that kept recurring often during the five years before my son found me seemed too obviously relevant to overlook. The nightmare was the beginning of my awakening after many decades of denial.
After my son found me, the nightmares ceased, and have not reoccurred. The nightmare that plagued me was a simple one, and yet, I thought little about it. It took no complex and intricate interpretations to make sense of my nightmare. However, until the nightmares ended, I did not connect the dots and make the connection.
In my nightmare, the scene was always exactly the same. I was holding an unidentified baby in my arms. No details of the baby were clear, not the sex of the baby or anything else. One minute I would be holding the baby, and then the baby vanished. Bammm-no more baby. Although I desperately searched for it, I could never find it. I was highly upset and distressed, and hence woke up crying.
After reunion when the nightmares stopped, I discussed this dream/nightmare with others. My husband told me he thought that maybe the dream was my subconscious telling me that I need some resolution, that it was a way of preparing me for being found. My husband is a very wise man.
I like to think that the dream was a way of slowly nudging me to face the pain surrounding the loss of my son. If he had not found me when he did, I like to believe that perhaps I would have searched for him.
In that safe, yet unhealthy birth mother denial mode, I was unaware of how much I wanted and needed to know my son. Yet the instant I was offered a chance to know him, my protective shell exploded into smithereens. The safe denial was gone and I was left feeling vulnerable, exposed and raw. It was finally time to stop denying and start facing and dealing with the truth. Something in me was ready though and I am thankful that I was able to meet the challenge!
