September 5, 2011
Last night I had a dream...so vivid, detailed, real.
It started out hazy, but with each scene became more clear.
I was watching a baby in a huge yard, just learning to crawl. She looked like any normal baby ~ beautiful, innocent, voiceless. But it was like I could get inside this baby, and inside, she was lost with no way to express herself. She crawled aimlessly, reluctantly, in circles, like in search, but could not find. She kept going from one stranger to the next, looking up, and realizing it wasn't right. All the while, the adults in this hazy picture were unaware, talking and laughing, and thinking the baby was just so cute. I finally picked her up and held her in my arms and comforted her. She smiled at me with a knowing smile.
The next scene in the dream was in a courthouse. With the baby still on my shoulder, I peered through a window, like we weren't supposed to be part of the happenings. It wasn't our business. I could see three young women sitting on the front row. They were all beautiful ~ the middle one had short curly red hair, the other two had black shiny hair. But all stared with blankness in their eyes. As if sitting in a line-up.
All of a sudden I KNEW I had to give this baby to her mother, but I didn't know which one. I felt they needed to be together, if even for a moment. Nothing could stop what I did next. I opened the courtroom door and walked through. Me and the baby.
My eyes were riveted on these three women. I wished I could hand the baby to all three, but couldn't. So I handed her to the one closest to me, on the end of the bench. She acted as if she couldn't take her from me, but let the baby fall gently onto her shoulder, unspeakably grateful. Immediately the baby curled into her like a glove and the women began to weep.
Then all three women cried uncontrollably, like a dam had been released in their souls, and they couldn't help it. Like someone had finally seen them.
I sat next to the woman and the baby on the bench as we watched the proceedings go on; like clueless foreigners, not able to understand the language being spoken. We just knew it was about us.
At one point I leaned over and whispered in the woman's ear, "You know you can change your mind, don't you?. You don't have to do anything today." She looked at me with surprise on her face, not able to believe it, and then answered back, "but wouldn't I just have to do it tomorrow?"
Scene 3 ~ I was in the backseat of a car being driven from the courthouse. It was packed full of people, driven by a sullen adoption worker. The mother was holding her baby in the front seat. We all sat quietly, but you could cut the air with a knife. The baby lifted her head off her mother's shoulder long enough to look back at me briefly, kind of like she was doing a double-take, and realized I was the one who had taken her to her mother. She sighed, like she had not breathed deeply in a long time, and smiled. Then snuggled her head back into the crook of her mothers neck. The mother seemed relieved too, as if it was dawning on her that she was a mother, and this was her child, whom she felt deeply.
The only conversation going on in the car was taking place between the driver and another woman who was leaning over the backseat as they whispered in concerned tones, snarls on their faces, carefully watching the mother with child.
This seemed to make the woman nervous, but she was relishing these moments snuggling close to her baby.
I tried to break the ice by casually talking to the mother and pointing out the amazing likeness she and her baby shared, even down to their beautiful hair. She was amazed too, how they just seemed to fit together. Like she never realized how her daughter would take after her so much.
After awhile, she glanced warily at the authority figure beside her, and finally burst out, "Why is everyone trying to pressure me?" She knew things were going too fast for her mind or emotions to keep up with, and was completely overwhelmed.
It was at this moment in the dream that I realized I had to do something. I could no longer just sit quietly and hope for the best, no matter how hard it was to open my mouth and speak. In the next few minutes I found myself telling my story with great urgency and emotion.
"I was adopted as a baby, and although I loved my adoptive family very much, I have always been searching and longing for what I lost so long ago and could never find. The connection to Myself, through my Mother."
I so wanted the baby in my dream to have that chance. So I kept speaking, through shaking voice and tears. Then, not knowing the outcome, I thought silently, "Please hear me", as the car pulled over and I stepped out onto a busy downtown street.
Strangely, I watched myself walk away, carrying a book bag at my side. And then I woke up.