What's in a dream?

I posted a dream I had last year a while back. Here is my interpretation of my dream (what I thought last year):

I think the digital camera represents the baby since we bought the camera to take pictures of the baby. Then the genderless kid also represents our child, how the child is lost and I have to help it get home. Just the fact that I didn't know if it was a boy or a girl says a lot to me. And mostly, my husband left me. I'm afraid of what this will do to us. Not that he will leave per se. But that it will forever change us.

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After posting it and rereading it I had more time to think about the dream and really break it down to think about what all the parts meant. The interpretation above was just what I wrote in my journal after I finished writing down the dream that morning when I woke up from it.

I should also say in case it's unclear, that I had already found out that thing were going completely wrong with Isabella. We got all the bad news on May 1, 2007, I woke up from this dream the morning of May 4th.

So, I still think the camera represents Isabella, I don't know why the woman was there or why she was angry, but that the camera was broken is fitting since there was so much wrong with Isabella. The anger and then me punching the woman just tells me what I already knew, I was very angry with everyone and anyone for this happening to my baby. Bringing the woman to the camera repair place seemed like a way of blaming someone for what was happening. I wished there was someone to blame. My husband being absent or leaving me in the dream is how he was and still is to some extend. He isn't as engaged as I wish he would be, so I feel very alone in both losses.

Then there is the child in the bathroom, if I remember correctly I would put the child at about 4-5 years old. I don't think the age is important, but that I didn't know the gender of the child was the same as not yet knowing that Isabella was a girl, we wouldn't get the amnio results for a couple weeks. The only thing I can think of for the hot chocolate (and why I ended up drinking "a bunch" of it) was it was a form of comfort for me in this difficult time.

I think it's pretty self explanatory that the child was lost. I was feeling very lost. Or since I had to help the child find its family, that might represent me letting Isabella go, resolving myself to eventually losing her since I knew that likelihood was very high.

I don't know what the museum worker represented or why he took all the credit for finding the family, maybe it was like a guardian angel helping me find my way. It's hard to say. Nearly falling down the stairs and being laden with stuff is straightforward too. It's hard not to stumble with this burden of grief forever on my shoulders. I knew it would be a balancing act, how would people treat me, what would I say. Would I be able to face all the questions. I still feel like it's a balancing act, how I've put up a wall around me to protect me while I'm out in the world, how I put on a brave face and manage to "go through the motions" and carry on with the activities I've been participating in when I would rather just crawl in a hole.

The museum was a maze, we couldn't get to where we wanted to go. I remember feeling like it was a cruel joke or trick. But it wasn't. I didn't get to where I wanted to go. Isabella wouldn't be born in September like I planned, like I expected.

The family is a mystery to me, but baby shoes as a reward seemed like saying to me, this is all you'll get, just a souvenir, no baby for you. At the time I didn't want to know the gender of the baby, I was still in denial or whatever. Later I decided to find out, that maybe it would make it more real for my husband since he was so removed from it. I was the one who was pregnant, I was the only one who it affected.

Then I wandered alone, crying. I woke up crying, nearly sobbing. Crying became the norm for me in the days, weeks, months to come. I feel like I've cried more in my life so far than 100 "normal" people ever will.

If I had living children I can imagine things would be so different. I would have to take care of them, they would be a source of joy in my life to cancel out or at least reduce the amount of sorrow. But I don't have any living children. I don't even feel like Isabella or Sean were ever mine. It doesn't make sense to me that they were only here so briefly. Will it ever?