Last night, I dreamt that we had two newly adopted children in addition to our own two children. One was a little girl about three or four and and the other was a little boy around one. I remember asking the little girl if she liked having a new mommy and she nodded her head and said yes. She was so cute. I remember holding the boy for hours, he seemed to be happy to be held and just rocked. Our kids were only a few years older than these two and so we had a handful to deal with but I looked forward to it. The dream seemed to last the whole first night they were at our home and into the next morning. I remember promising to myself to raise them as if they were my own kids.
Then I woke and and for a long few seconds I was really concerned “where are my adopted children?”. Slowly, I realized that I don’t have any adopted children. It was only a dream, but the little ones seemed so real to me. They had personality. Surely they were real? Oh, the heartbreak I felt with the realization that they weren’t real and I’ll never see them again. A whole day has passed and the emotion of loss still hits me like a brick.