I had a dream before I knew I was pregnant. I dreamt that I had just given birth to a 10lb baby. D and I commented how the baby looked just like Camille but with less hair. Somehow the dream fast forwarded to a month later and I was at my Mom's nursing the baby and next commented how great it was to have given birth without any complications this time.
Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I was nervous and scared and anxious that I would loose this pregnancy, this wonderful surprising pregnancy but I clung to that dream and believed with all my heart that God has sent it to me to give me peace of mind. To tell me that this was His plan. That this baby was going to be just fine.
I have clung to that dream for the past 20 weeks.
But yesterday I needed that baby to be the gender it was in my dream. I needed it to keep a hold of the hope that was alive inside of me.
I don't remember being so nervous with Camille's big ultrasound. I do remember being excited and full of anticipation. But yesterday I was nervous. No matter what this baby was, I would love it beyond description but I wanted this dream to have been prophetic. You might not be able to understand that, but my Mom does, and sometimes that's all you need. I could see my heartbeats on the ultrasound screen and I knew I had to calm down, but I just needed to know, now.
As the technician was taking my measurements, just moments after telling me she couldn't confirm the baby's gender just yet, she slipped. She said her and my heart almost jumped out of my body. I knew that she knew that I heard, the look on her face confirmed that. But that was okay with me because just a few minutes later, after the baby's bladder became full, she finally made it official:
My Rosemary, there she was and there was my dream, alive and well.