Tuesday, April 29, 2014

The Babies

I dream about babies.  A lot.  Not in the "Ooh I want a baby so bad" sort of way.  These are different.  I started dreaming about babies about a year ago.  The "dreams" always start the way all of my other meaningful dreams start.  They look and feel a specific way that lets me know I'm no longer dreaming but experiencing something important.  I assume it's when I'm doing astral travel.  Anyway, my first baby dream had me arriving on a giant ship.  My spirit guide, Adam, introduced me to this very wealthy and powerful woman and referred to me as the new nanny.  She was so relieved and immediately handed me her baby.  No questions asked.  She just dropped her in my arms and practically ran away.  I spent the entire night holding that baby.  She never cried, never demanded anything from me.  I held her and followed her mother around the whole time waiting for her to decide she loved her child.  That never happened.  By early morning Adam came back and gently touched my shoulder.  He had a sad look on his face and told me quietly that it was time to give the baby back and go home.  It was at that moment that my heart broke.  I didn't want to give the baby back.  Not to that awful woman who couldn't even be bothered to look at her little girl.  I was so sad and so so angry that this baby was destined to live a life like this.  I cried and gave the baby back and regretfully walked away.  After waking up I mourned the loss of that child for two straight weeks.    

Unfortunately that wasn't a rare occurrence.  Month after month I was taken to new babies.  All of them weren't given the love and attention they so desperately needed and deserved.  I'd hold each one all night and did my best to pour enough healing love into their small bodies to hopefully last them a lifetime.  It was so unfair.  It never failed that at the end of each night Adam would come to retrieve me and take the babies from me to deliver them back to their disgusting parents.  Each time it felt like I was giving away a child of my own.  It hurt me so deeply that I would be sick for days, and sometimes weeks, after.

I've come to realize that these moments aren't about me.  I'm brought there to help them.  They need to feel the comfort of real love.  Maybe they need the love and healing energy I give (sometimes inadvertently).  I like to think that through my love and suffering I'm giving them hope for a happy life despite the awful parents they were given.  Regardless of the reason I both regret and am thankful for these moments.  They may leave me raw and wounded but I'm given the chance to give so fully to complete strangers in hopes of helping in some tiny way.

Thank you for reading my blog.

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