I've had this blog post ready in my head for a couple of days now, but I just couldn't start it for some reason. It was if I didn't have the words to start, but I wasn't sure why. I was beginning to get frustrated. I sat down tonight and decided, I can't sleep anyway, I'll write that post. As I began to look up my background information, everything fell into place.
I would like to give you a peek into my journal. This is an excerpt of what I wrote on November 27th, 2006, three years ago to the day.
I had a dream last night. For the first time since I got pregnant with Hannah I dreamed about holding a sweet precious baby in my arms. And it was a peaceful dream. I held a child. And I was at peace. I nursed that child in my dream. And I woke up in peace. And I knew that everything will work out for the good of all that serve the Lord. Peace.
In that dream everything was white, sunny, and peaceful. This was a stark contrast to my mental state at the time of the dream. Everything seemed dark and cold, grey, and in chaos. It had only been three months since we had lost Colin. Over the years I've thought of that dream many times and I've hoped.
I can still vividly remember that dream. I can tell you exactly what the baby looked like. Without telling anyone, I've been looking for the dress the child was wearing in that dream. I wanted to buy it, as a sign of hope for myself. It was a rather common, simple style, but I've never seen it to buy.
A few days ago, I was literally having a panic attack about Abby. My boys were at nap and Patrick was at the grocery store. I had been falling into a depression for a couple of days. I don't have any logical reason to be concerned about this precious life inside of me. However, doubts were beginning to pop up and engulf my mind. It's completely Satan. There is no other explanation for it. So, I called my Mom to talk. Just to chat. While I was on the phone with her a box arrived from a friend. I spoke a little about it in my previous post. I was excited to see what was inside, so I hung up with my Mom and opened the package. This is what I found.
This is the dress from my dream. God spoke hope to me! A friend I have had for five years, from Canada, whom I have never met, sent me a dress from my dream. She had no idea! There were a ton of adorable outfits in that box. I saw them thirty or so minutes later when I stopped crying over this little dress.
I am anxious to meet Abby, to see if she is that child I can vividly picture. She may be, because God gives us the desires of our heart. However, she may not, because I'm pretty sure she's going to be beyond my wildest dreams!