This morning I woke up with a start, gasping for air.

I had another dream where one of my children was taken from me.

I hate those dreams. They literally haunt me for days.

Most of my nightmares center around not being able to find my children. My being at work when a major catastrophe strikes and then not being able to locate them in the chaos. Worrying about their health and safety. Wandering aimlessly calling for them. Wondering if they are still alive. Cursing myself for not having been there.

Last night I dreamt that my youngest was stolen from his bed. I woke up, jumped out of bed and verified that the little one was, indeed, still in the house and safe. Yes, it was that vivid.

I’ve not been able to settle my mind since. No doubt I will be a wreck for days.

I hate those dreams. Can you relate?