Dreaming of Babies

Last night I dreamed of many babies.
None of them were Ezra.
A baby nursing at my breast.
Not Ezra.
I think it was a girl,
I always seem to assume our next child will be a daughter.
In my dream I carried a baby, played with a baby, sat with a friend holding my baby.
Not Ezra.
In fact, it was not even the same baby throughout the dream,
The babies' features kept changing,
And none of them were Ezra.

It's like my mind is trying to tell to my body,
What is to come.
That the story of Ezra is not the end of the story.
That my body had better prepare itself,
For the new life that my mind so desparately wishes would enter my womb.
My body may find this information confusing,
My body, so forever changed by Ezra's presence...
Although in my grief I have lost more weight than I ever gained while pregnant,
Nothing is the same...
Breasts now permanently their pregnancy size
Hips spread wider
Ezra marks like a map of rivers and streams across them.

I've tried to communicate with the soul of my daughter,
That it's safe now to enter my womb.
I've asked Ezra to help her find the way.
And yet I worry that Ezra is skeptical...
Sure that womb is a lovely warm place to hang out...
Until it's not.
It doesn't all turn out ok.
And with my own faith so shattered that I can birth a live healthy baby into this world,
I'm hardly one to persuade otherwise.

Before losing Ezra I never remembered my dreams,
And even when I did,
Not in the full details I now can recall.
My dreams are sometimes good, envisioning better times than now.
But sometimes they are frightening, almost prophetic,
And I wish I could banish them from my mind.
My spirit baby Ezra has opened a window into my soul,
that I could not have known before.

One of the strange things about losing Ezra,
Is this disconnect I now feel between mind and body.
Like two very separate (yet still interconnected) entities.
My mind who so completely loves Ezra and wants him physically here,
And my body that killed him.
My mind doesn't trust my body anymore,
Can't believe that it would take away something so precious.
It doesn't seem to matter what my mind wanted,
Since my body had other ideas.

And yet I can't help but think that this disconnect is part of the problem,
Why our next baby hasn't yet joined us.

Because if I don't have faith that I can bring her screaming into this world,

How can she?