The dream

Last night I had a dream.

I dreamed about my baby in a fish tank, wearing a mask fit for a super villain with wires poking out of your chest.

But first, I dreamed of your beginning. I dreamed of alarms ringing, of people running, of constant noise, but no cries.

I dreamed of APGARs and ventilators, of a blue little leg hanging out of a blanket and the words “is he okay?”

I dreamed of lying on a table, not able to move, of a sheet closing my eyes to what I needed to see.

I dreamed of doctors and midwives and seeing their faces, but not having seen the face of my baby and not knowing if I ever would again.

I dreamed of my fear, my fear of not knowing what tomorrow held or whether you would be be with me.

I dreamed of leaving you there, of a midwife holding you out for me to see before you were put into your tank. Of me not being able to take in your face still.

I dreamed about a ward. A ward full of mums and their new babies, of cries, of smells, but my arms being empty and no one cries for me.

I dreamed about being alone with my thoughts. Of hours ticking by and still not knowing what your face was like, of how you smelt and whether you fit in my arms like you should.

I dreamed of the noises, the sounds and sights of a neonatal ward. Of finally holding you and the love we felt. Of seeing both my babies together for the first time. Of six little syringes filled with liquid gold. Of wanting to feed you but the wires and masks and monitors stopping me.

I dreamed of your neighbours, some of them as small as a hand. Some with masks like you and some with wires and tubes and lights for their own. I dreamed that some were surrounded by family whilst others were alone.

I dreamed of admitting defeat when the paramedics came to take me back without you. Of sleeping alone for the first time and not knowing whether it would be the last.

I dreamed of all these fears, of the memories and the time we spent apart. I dreamed of being told that there was no support for my fears, for my sleepless nights, my moments of panic and fear that somehow you could end up back in that place.

But most of all I dreamed of you. The final piece of my heart I never knew I was missing. The baby boy who made my daughter a sister and us a family of four.

Robin Thomas Fogarty

18/09/2019