Kissed By An Angel

September 16, 2018

By Sanda Rathamone



I never believed in angels, until you came along.

I had a series of dreams in one night. I was throwing a party at my mom’s house. I sent someone to get her what she asked for: oolong tea and honey? She was in bed, probably pms-ing.

Next, I was running away from monsters. I didn’t even know what they looked like, but I was shutting heavy doors, trying to getaway. I got away, but I was still running. 

Somehow, running turned into getting through an obstacle course, which was actually a children’s playground. I could see myself swaying on the monkey bars and climbing flights of stairs. Someone tries to help or show me "the ropes," perhaps even leading the way. I could see a bunch of “kids” running through and around the playground.

Some of these kids are like me; not necessarily a kid, but a big kid in their teens or twenties. Now that I think about it, the scenario makes perfect sense. And then, the last dream hit me to halt. I wasn’t expecting this one.

I saw myself, again. I also saw my family. The family that I have longed and prayed for. 

In the dream, I was laying in bed under the blankets. Everything in the bedroom looked the same, everything was where it was supposed to be. It didn't feel like a dream at all; it was like I was just waking up from sleep in real life.

To my right, my husband sat propped up with pillows. On his lower left side laid a baby, fully awake and aware of the both of us. I looked at the both of them, surprised to see that there was baby in between us on the bed. Everything about this scene looked and felt as if it was always this way, as if we have always been a family. 

The morning seemed... normal, but then again, had a hint of newness and different than our routine mornings. The room was also flooded with soft, bright light and made me feel fresh and awake. 

As I inched my face closer to the baby, the baby began to pucker its lips. The baby kissed the tip of my nose. In my shock, I moved back with wide eyes. Did this baby really just kiss me? I moved my face towards the baby again and it did the same thing. 

My husband had a gentle, loving expression on his face, with a smile. Watching the baby try to kiss my nose for a third time didn't seem all that new to him, like it did for me. It was like he knew that it was going to happen, that this was a natural occurrence for all three of us. 

The baby was at least more than a few months old, probably five months and old enough to recognize us as parents. I want to say that the baby was a boy and that he could have been Elijah, but I didn't feel that it was. The baby's energy felt like it had no specific gender nor had that familiarity of Elijah's energy when I dream of him.

But something about this baby felt like ours, while at the same time, a presence from heaven. I wish I could also say that the baby could be our "rainbow baby," but I can't. I honestly can't put a finger on who this baby is, but know that its presence was a gift.

The kiss was nothing like human lips. I felt like I was being "kissed by an angel" and by "kissed," I mean to say that I was being blessed with love. The kiss was more figurative than literal and didn't quite touch my skin, but was magically satisfying? I can't describe it clearly or put a word on it, but it was placed so lightly on my nose that it wasn't quite a complete kiss, but it packed a punch of love, innocence, and giddiness. A child-like, playful wonder.

I woke up feeling this gentle, heartfelt joy, and gratitude. 

When I told my husband about my dream, he thought it was funny how he just had a dream about a baby, too. Only... it wasn't as exciting as mine. He told me that he had a dream (in very short words) of how I "wasn't ovulating this time, but we were going to try for a baby anyway." 

That blissful feeling from my dream dissipated into thin air; it left me feeling emotionless. 

This was not what I expected or wanted to hear. It was like he was the bearer of bad news and made my dream foolish. I couldn't even enjoy a dream for more than two minutes. I just wanted to say, "Give me a damn break, man. Can I just be happy for one damn moment?"

I was hoping to conceive this month and is currently two days away from a visit from Aunt Flo.

Yet, I wouldn't let my hope or my heart go too far. I have been very busy lately and really don't need the emotional burden. I am not looking forward to the disappointment of not being pregnant for the eighteenth time, since we lost Elijah. I hate that I am counting this as months slowly pass us by with no baby.

I don't know if I will ever be okay with not getting pregnant or being childless. It's difficult to suppress my desire and urge to be a mother and put it in the back of my head. I think about it every day, just as much as I think about Elijah. These dreams about babies just makes it worse and I don't know whether or not to be grateful for them.

It is like I can only be a mother in my dreams, but not in real life. It is painful to realize that the moment I wake up, my baby isn't here. My baby isn't real. It is a tease to my tender, mother heart and I feel like it is not fair.

There was this one night that I laid on our bedroom floor and went through all of Elijah's photos. I no longer look at Elijah's photos as often as I used to. Although, I never get tired of this one photo of him, completely raw and exposed. The first place that my eyes are drawn to is his face, then his nose, and after, his hands and fingers, then his feet and toes.

His nose looks so much like mine, even in its very early stage. It is so minuscule, perfect, complete, and resembles mine. I felt the urge to kiss his nose. And I did. I kissed his nose through the screen on my iPhone. I kissed his nose. And cried. I wished to feel him, his body, his warmth, his love, his realness, his life with a tirelessly beating heart.

I wouldn't have been surprised if that baby was Elijah. To receive a kiss in return was all I needed to know that I am loved by angels.

With love,

Must Read:
Read the full story about Elijah:
Elijah's Story: From Gender Reveal To A Spontaneous Delivery

Photo: maxpixel

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