The baby Who vanished From My arms

"I was holding a baby boy, my son, only a few months old. He was small and warm in my arms, and when he looked up at me, he smiled and giggled. I held him close and felt a joy so deep that nothing else mattered. I was so happy he had come into my life. In the dream, I knew he had been born from something cruel that was forced on me. Yet I didn't feel hatred toward his father. I even thought about telling him, because he had the right to know he had a son. Part of me was bewildered by that thought. Like, what? But that was how it felt in the dream, and none of it changed how much I loved my baby. I could feel his touch and hear his laughter, and I never wanted to let go. Then I woke up. The room was quiet, and my arms were empty. My heart broke, because the loss felt real, as if I had lost a child who had never existed. For a long time I lay there, missing him."