Holiday Surrealism..

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. While not a huge fan of the holiday, I find myself picturing Christmas next year with my two boys....and it scares the shit out of me. It feels almost like when you have had too much to drink and you alter between wanting to giggle or cry uncontrollably at the same time, room spinning and all.
But how is it that I had a whole other dream? How is it that I have a dead baby? a dead daughter? How is it that I pictured my life with a little boy and a little girl and being perfectly happy. Those thoughts seem so far away. It feels like it never happened...like the remnants of some faraway dream...that didn't happen to me.
I'm finally ready to embrace the next future. I accept that I don't know what will happen, that I cannot control it. I accept the unknowing, the unknown joy or the unknown pain. I am simply here, present. I have a son who is sleeping in his bed right now, dreaming of Christmas, and one here in my womb, developing...gestating...
As surreal is the past, so is the future. Labor seems like something I will never go through, even though it may be a mere 5 weeks from now (or less). I want to hold him. I want to look into his eyes and feel his warm squirming body. But it feels so far away...just another dream. The only thing I know for sure is where I am right now, in the present, sitting here on my couch, imagining my son opening up his gifts about 30 hours from now. And IT FEELS OK. I feel safe here, in the present.