I am exhausted. It’s driving me nuts. I can’t sleep. I seem to be plagued with the “typical” pregnancy dreams that come so vivid and so real in the middle of the night and are nearly NEVER happy ones. Every. Single. Night.
I’m trying to pray the St. Michael prayer, I’m trying to implore my guardian angel, trying to storm heaven with pleas to make it stop so I can rest, to no avail. I despise these dreams. It’s the same one, or some version of it every time and it always seems to involve someone who is not familiar with our situation (special needs kid etc) who takes it upon themselves to call the “authorities” on us. As is usually the case when something like that happens, my children are ripped from my arms, all of us pleading and screaming. I can’t even articulate the rest of it. My feelings. As I sit here and type it my heart feels like it’s being ripped from my chest, and I’m awake.
Someone make it stop!!!
I know all of my little ones (and the big ones too) are asleep soundly in their beds, all looking forward to tomorrow when we get to take a peak at little baby number seven nestled safely in my womb. I wish I could hold the rest of them as safe. Maybe that’s the problem. My children are growing up and I just can’t keep them in the folds of my skirt any longer. I don’t know. I just want them (the dreams) to stop. So, I’m up early, waiting for daylight to come and children to wake and have muffins for breakfast and school lessons to learn and baby’s to see. My day will start and we’ll have fun (despite the rain) and life will be good, except for that little exhausted tugging in my heart that keeps coming back.
I need to let my heart rest in Christ.
Pray for me.