For 13 nights in a row, I’ve had a dream that some mystical force enters our home and steals the spirit of our baby, forcing me to miscarry. As soon as I start to bleed, I wake up from the dream. My blood pressure has been elevated every night since that first dream.
Usually, I just lie awake in the bed but tonight, I decided to get some work done.
I slip out of the bed and walk into the living room. Stretching out on the sofa, I grab my laptop and start working.
“I’m making a doctor’s appointment. You’ve been up for the past three days in a row,” she whispers in my ear.
Scared, I start flailing my arms and legs. I knock over my glass of water and accidentally hit Ashley in the face.
“Do you have to sneak up on me Silent Ninja? I’m already jumpy as it is.”
Ashley giggles while rubbing her cheek.
“I’m sorry love. I rolled over and realized that you weren’t in the bed…again. Is heartburn keeping you up at night?”
I wish it was heartburn. Guess this would be the time to tell her.
“I’m having this reoccurring dream that some mystical force steals the spirit of our baby and I miscarry.”
Ashley just stands there, blinking her eyes in disbelief.
“I don’t know how to respond. Have you spoken to your parents about it?”
I sigh. Under no circumstances do I want to tell my Buddhism-practicing parents about this dream.
“No I haven’t and I don’t intend on telling them,” I respond without looking up from the screen.
“Fine, don’t tell them. I’m making a doctor’s appointment later,” she says walking back to bed.
After working for two hours, I start to doze off. I wake up to what feels like the warmth of the sun on my face. I open my eyes and see Yelena, eyes red with rage. I wake up screaming.
Heart is racing, body is drenched in sweat. I feel something warm trickling down my leg. Upset that I peed on myself, I look back at the sofa. The spot isn’t yellow. It’s red.