Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Soul Scream

i've always been prone to nightmares every now and then. they're usually about someone breaking into the house or me forgetting to do something really important like take a test or memorize lines for my role as belle in beauty and the beast.

once i had a nightmare where my husband was trapped in a hole or something and i couldn't help him. i woke up sweating and panicked. it would take a few seconds, but i could always calm down from even the worst nightmare - especially when i heard my husband patiently saying, "it's okay. it's just a dream."

a few nights ago i had a dream my baby died. i don't remember the specifics of the dream, but i know i let out the most gut-wrenching scream, like every bit of my being needed to escape from my body in that one scream. then i woke up. i had the same feelings i always do when i wake up from a nightmare - i was panicked and frightened - but as my husband held me saying, "it's okay. it's just a dream." i could not shake the 'nightmare' feeling. then it hit me like a semi truck. i can't shake it because i'm living it....

i'm living my worst nightmare.

i laid there and cried. it's not just a dream. my baby died. my sweet noah. i can't just wake up with relief that the nightmare is over.

when the morning finally came, i had to go on with 'business as usual.' unfortunately we weren't in the comfort of home, so i couldn't just lay in bed all day. i had to go on. i had to pretend. i had to put on the mask that everything is okay.

but it's not okay. my soul is screaming.

i realized that the gut-wrenching scream in my nightmare is the scream i feel in my soul every minute, i just don't let it out. while others are laughing, talking about the weather, getting breakfast ready, i literally want to scream, "MY BABY DIED!!!!" and stifling that scream feels like trying to keep an enormous flotation device under water. it's exhausting. it's maddening.

i want joy again. i want to be normal. i want this dark cloud lifted from my soul so i don't feel like a zombie 21 hours of the day.

i want to cook a decent meal for my husband and me. i want to giggle with children. i want to chit chat about how the mariner's are doing. but i can't.

i'm not the mccayla i once was because i have a new reality now. my baby died.


  1. No words my friend. Just prayers.

  2. Oh McCayla , my heart just hurts for you. I wish there was something to make it better , but there isn't , and it will just take time . Take the time you need to grieve, and keep sharing because it is what you need to do. I'm sending prayers for you both continually. Know that you are loved .

    1. thank you so much, yevonne. we covet your prayers and are so grateful for all your continued love and support.

  3. That's right - you are not the girl you once were. You are bolder, stronger, better. You may not feel like it now, but you are. And you will be. And you will get to the place you know it is true. Would you trade it all in a heartbeat? Absolutely. If only we could make that choice. But you *can* watch as more lives are blessed, most of all yours, because of Noah. Slowly but surely.

    You are not almost-screaming alone. I had a very similar reaction just after Noah went home. My coworkers were talking and laughing about their kids, taking them for granted, and I very nearly screamed at them. And I was mad. For you, for Noah. Because this is not the way it is supposed to be.

    You are loved beyond measure, my dear. And the sun will shine in your soul again. Sooner than you know.

    1. you're amazing. thank you. that blessed my soul big time.