Dead Baby

I was in my childhood church with my mom. Minutes before Sunday service we were hugging old people we hadn't seen in ages. I didn't talk and just hugged when it was requested of me. We went to sit down and it was much fuller than it used to be and we had trouble finding a seat for the two of us! Service was short and we went downstairs to talk and hang out after. This is when I realized my little brother had been in the nursery downstairs. The baby seems to like me and I know how to hold it. I let another girl hold it and show her the correct way. I notice she is getting tired of him so I take him back into my arms. After I readjusted his weight his skin on his neck is sticking to my sweaty arm. I peel our skin apart and then his body goes limp. I rush over to my mom and some chatty older choir members. They don't seem too worried when I lay him down on the table top and he does not move. I can feel his heart still beating in an undetermined rhythm and start freaking out. I ask if I should call 911 but before anyone answers I'm already dialing. I yell "The baby is not breathing- I'm in the basement of St. Paul's Church!" The operator says they'll send an ambulance so I hang up and start to wait by the door. I wait for ten minutes and no one comes. My little brother's heart is no longer beating even at an uneven rate. I'm crying and grieving but no one else seems too affected by it. A few people try to comfort me and all I can think is that he died in my arms.

I don't have a little brother in real life. . St. Paul's Church is a fairly common dream setting for me. I also am pretty uncomfortable holding babies because I haven't held many and don't really know what to do with them.