Dreams a Mother Shouldn't Have

I have had quite a few dreams in my life that have stuck with me and probably always will. I had a dream in 5th grade that I was much older (probably as old as I am now) and in a kitchen, which appeared to be mine, I was baking Christmas sugar cookies. I looked out of the kitchen to a living room where I saw a Christmas tree in the corner and two little girls, close in age. As they bent beneath the tree they grabbed identical packages and ran to a man with dark hair sitting with his back to me in a recliner. The girls echoed one another, "Daddy can you open help us open these, please." At the time I thought this dream gave me some magical insight into who I would marry in the future.

There are a thousand books out there that explain dreams. Why we have them, what they mean, what can trigger dreams. There are even books that claim to help you dream about things you want to dream about. Though I have not studied these books I feel that I simply have an over active imagination and that sometimes creates very vivid, recognizable dreams.

Last week my older daughter was sick with some sort of a summer virus that she caught from her older brother. She had very high fevers and vomiting. The following dream ensued:

I was in my parents' house, in my childhood bedroom. I was looking out the window of the two story house and saw my husband standing below in his dark blue, pinstripe suit. I was banging on the window with both fists, tears erupting from my face. I was sad, hurt, angry and completely devastated. I knew that out daughter had died. My body heaved against the window as I slammed my fists, fighting. My husband sent my mom to talk to me about the loss of our daughter. My mom came in the room and sat on the dark green comforter that draped over the bed. She tried to calm me, to force me to look at the future, to acknowledge what I already knew. Then her words came, "You know where she is now. You know that she has time to prepare." I didn't want to acknowledge all that I feel to be true about the atonement and our life after this world. I simply wanted my baby back. I began yelling, "I don't care, I don't care..."

At that point I awoke from my dream. I ran up to my daughter's room to check on her. Sure enough she was burning from a fever but sleeping. I know that my deep concern is what evoked this dream. I went back down to my room. I sat in my bed and cried myself back to sleep.

Mother's should not have dreams like these. Unfortunately I have had three dreams like this. The first time I dreamed my son had died - a chilling dream that will never leave my memory and twice I have had a dream that my oldest daughter had died. Each time I have awoken from these dreams I have a new resolve to love and cherish the children I have for as long as I shall have them.