The Bad Dream

I had to wake my son up this morning for him to go to school. I started with a gentle calling of his name and rubbing his back.

Immediately he started yelling, “The baby!!” “Mommy get the baby!” I didn’t know what to tell him. “What baby, sweetie?”

“The baby! Get him OUT!!!” Then he started hitting me and crying huge tears. I must have had a shocked or horrified look on my face and I didn’t know what to do. I held my arms out to him and tried to hold him. He hit me while I held him and he cried, but I was finally able to start calming him down.

I held my two-year old son in my arms and rocked him back and forth, back and forth while he calmed his tears. After a minute, I asked him, “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Yes,” he whimpered.

“About a baby?”

“Yes,” he whimpered again.

“Was the baby stuck?” He nodded his head.

“Where was he stuck?”

“I don’t know,” he said and erupted in another stream of tears.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Everything’s ok,” I said as I rocked him back and forth back and forth. “The baby’s ok. It’s ok sweet boy.”

I continued to rock him back and forth and hold my sweet little boy as he recovered from his bad dream.

I was terrified to see him so distressed. I was terrified to have him hit me because he never acts that way. I was terrified for what that dream meant. Does he remember being born? Was he the baby that was stuck and I had to get him out? It scared me to see him so scared about a baby stuck in a dream.

I still have so much angst from his birth and I am terrified that he is somehow also traumatized by the way he came into this world.

I just want to make his world safe and comforting. I hated that he woke up so distraught but I am so glad I was able to hold my big baby boy and rock him back and forth back and forth and take all of his fears away. At least for this morning.


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