Last night I had a dream. A dream that I have fairly often.
It always begins the same, with my boy and I dancing around our kitchen. Hand in hand, giggling and shouting, skipping, happiness filling the room.

Very commonly our reality.

It moves to Beckett handing me his tablet and silently asking to watch “The Many Adventures Of Winnie The Pooh”.

Also frequently our reality. The usual.

Then something happens, that is simply out of character.
Beckett speaks.
He whispers carefully, “Winnie… Pooh”.

Now I’m watching myself react…
“What?… What did you say baby?… Say that again!… Winnie The Pooh! …You can do it sweet boy!”
I call for his Daddy. He needs to hear this miracle unfolding. He needs to feel this joy that’s rushing through my body. Head to toe.

Dad rushes into the room, hearing the excitement in my voice. And we both begin repeating “Winnie The Pooh”, over and over. With bursts of small pauses in between, searching for a reaction from Beckett.

Then quietly, “Winnie The Pooh”. He says it again! And again. And again. Louder with excitement, boasting his new found words. He is proud! You can see it all over his face.

We swing around the kitchen, “ring-around-the-Rosie” style, the three of us.
Overjoyed.
Shocked.
Blissful.

And then, I wake up.

Once I realize I’m still in my bed, I slowly piece it together that what I just witnessed is simply a dream.
It’s hard to describe the emotions that follow.
I’m overcome with confusion.
Then sadness.
Then frustration.
Then jealousy. Jealous of a dream. Of my mind, capable of hearing my boy, more than my ears have yet to meet.

Whether you’ve heard your child say a word, or still wait for that to become your reality, it stings.
You find yourself faced with the decision to never give up hope for that day, but also, to not live your life holding in that same breath, waiting for that day to come.

The conscious shift that you make, to be okay with whatever communication path your child can take, it is heavy, and it’s raw, but necessary.
It opens you up to a happier, more positive life. A brighter outlook. And it shows you that even the “little things” are huge. Every single event is a celebration. And it’s beautiful.

But on those nights that my mind plays those cruel jokes, and almost taunts me with the “what if’s”, it’s difficult not to crave just 5 more minutes.