I had one of those hypervivid, juuuuuust-before-you-wake-up dreams this morning.
I’d just given birth to a son. J was there. We were really happy.
It was indescribably awesome.
I didn’t want to wake up.
Not just because it was 5 in the morning, and not just because the dream was wonderful beyond words, but because the feel of it would follow me like a cloud all day, a memory that’s not even really mine.
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When I found out Emmi was deaf I used to dream about her talking to me. I would have these elaborate dreams about the conversations we would have, and I never wanted to wake up. I knew I would have to go through the day remembering talking to her when in reality I couldn't.
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