I dreamed of a long, white front porch. Everything was white and the sunshine came in the big windows onto a set of broad shelves. On the bottom shelf was a box, a lot like the little coffin Josie was buried in. It was white too. Inside the box lay Josie. he lid of the box was halfway off and I took it off, in the dream, to see her.
She was covered in very light pastel blankets and she was clearly dead. I dreamt we had put her there and had her embalmed because we didn't want to let her go and wanted to hold her every day. Harry was behind me. Everything was so white it was almost hard to see, like on a snowy day when you're driving and your eyes are smarting from the light.
I took her out of the box and held her, feeling her weight. I cried and cried. Then I put her back into the box and covered her up and looked at her. She was still my beautiful baby, but her features were just...corroding away. I opened her left eye to look in it and it was so, so dark, just like in the hospital. Her skin was changing color - it looked bruised, like an old bruise that turned yellow, with red around her eye.
I started crying harder and communicated with Harry, though not in speech - more like a melding of minds, and said that I felt guilty because I wanted to bury her, but that I also wanted to keep her here to keep holding her. I didn't know what to do, because if I buried her I wouldn't be able to come and look at her any more. But I also knew she needed to go into the ground and rest and in some ways, I didn't want to look at her any more. That thought made me feel even more sorrow and I cried more. Harry communicated with me without words and said that we should bury her with Annie Jo (Harry's favorite Aunt, who Josie was named after and who passed away about a year ago - January 4th I think) so that they could have each other for company.
Just about then I woke up. I felt very sensitive - this dream was nothing like the beautiful birth dream I'd had a few months previously. It wasn't horrible either - just came with a message I haven't really been able to completely figure out yet, because while some of it might be obvious, there's something else in it - not just about moving on. I don't cry every day, or feel depressed, or bitter, or as though I haven't let my baby go, so while subliminally I may still have letting go to do, this dream has to mean something more than that. I wonder when I'll figure it out.
I love my Josie. We are trying for another child and this hasn't been our month (most likely) but I didn't figure that one out until I woke up. I do long for another child though, it's true - a rainbow baby I can love and hug and nurture, more thereafter too, probably. The feeling of Josie's soft, warm baby skin will never leave me, nor will anything else about her, and for that I am grateful. That's what I have of my little beauty. Goodness me, life and death and dreams are all so intertwined.
Here she is, in my arms.