I dreamed that our son (who I distinctly remember giving birth to) had been a foster child in the past. I saw a video online somewhere from when he was maybe three months with his foster family. He was lying in a crib and crying and these two other kids were acting like they were drunk and throwing things like bottles at him and saying stuff like "come on Gabriel!" "Yeah, come on Gabriel!" as if urging him to magically get out of his crib and come over. Afterward I went to my baby and picked him up and hugged him hard as I cried. I felt so bad for him, and I was so happy that I had gotten him. I couldn't help thinking that I was meant to get him because I already knew what to name him. I think I also burned down his foster family's home at some point.
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