frailty of life. . .

I dreamt in technicolor this weekend of a tragedy so heart wrenching I can hardly speak of it without feeling breathless. The details were vivid and stirred such deep emotion that a sense of loss lingered after I woke (and in a sense lingers still). I won’t delve into the details of the dream, primarily because I don’t want to relive it or remember it years from now, but in short Jonah was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness prior to birth and though he appeared healthy and beautiful in the days subsequent to his delivery, I was filled with the overwhelming knowledge that his life was slipping away before my eyes. . . While feeding him (with the warmth of his body against mine), I would cry, “Live, Jonah, live. . . I need you to live. . .” I felt so helpless. . . so desperate for him to remain with me. My heart aches as I write, though I know this dream is no indication of our current reality or what’s to come. It seems I’ve been ushered closer to the frailty of life and even now, as he squirms in my belly, I am reminded of the monstrosity of blessing embodied in the gift of a healthy child.