Good night, sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest...
-William Shakespeare


It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.
-Rose Kennedy

Sunday, February 17, 2008

The worst times

The times I am starting to find the hardest are those that I am alone. Mind you I'm not really alone, I have 5 animals to comfort me in my time of need. On the other hand, they don't talk so the thoughts all creep back in. I live over the delivery everyday in my head and all of my regrets that came with that day.

I regret first and foremost that I didn't ask our families to join us. I thought, (at the time it was what was right) that we needed to do this incredibly sad thing just the two of us. I now wish that Williams other family members could have held him but I realize too that his spirit had already flown. My mother was the first person I called while holding him in my arms. She talked to me as I described how he looked, fingers, toes, penis and all! I wish she could have held him in her arms and kissed him on his forehead and cheeks. Then again, I don't know nor will I ever know if that would have broken her spirit. She has always said, "I'm sorry you lost him, he's not lost but I'm sorry you lost him." She's right he's not lost. He knows what he's doing and maybe he just couldn't come to me this time around. Maybe I will get him back in some way shape or form.

I regret that I didn't force the issue on getting a hospital birth certificate. I know now how much I need and want that . I regret that his skin was so fragile that we couldn't get hand and foot prints. However, I did get castings which are tangible, I can hold his hand in mine just like I did on his birthday. I regret that I didn't know about NILMDS (photographers) before the fact. I wish I had more pictures. I regret that I never dressed him. I regret that I didn't spend more time with him, I wanted to get home to my own space. I regret that I never went back to the hospital and he spent a long time in the morgue, that cold dark place. Then I have to remind myself, since I believe in spirit and soul that his was not in his body anymore. I have all of these regrets. I have so many more, but I am alone. I don't want to think about all of them as I will only start crying uncontrollably, and no one here to calm me down.

I wish that people knew what a priveledge it is to have children, to watch them grow. I looked at cards the other day and read one that was under the title "The stress of a newborn," I would give anything for that stress! I wouldn't even want a card for it, I would welcome the stress, the no sleep, the stinky diapers, the spit up. I would welcome all of it. I would even welcome morning sickness if it meant my son was still with me.

I am trying to gather all of my memories, big or little. They are mine and I need them to all be together. I didn't realize how many things I have collected in regards to William. Little notes, and dammit those sympathy cards, I wanted "Congrats on your new son" cards. The emails I sent out in regards to losing Will and the sympathy emails that were returned. The pictures, the hand and foot castings, the bereavement box, his death certificate. The ornaments, the books, all of these things. To outsiders who aren't or have never been in my shoes all of this may just be stuff. To me all of these things equal memories of my first born child.

If I was more of a lush, I would drink myself into a frenzy from the time I awoke until I passed out. However, I try to accomplish things throughout the day therefore drinking doesn't fit the bill. Trust me it's a heavy thought especially when I am alone.

I am now up against, the do we try again question. Dammit, I want to be a Mommy, I want to hear someone call me Mommy, I want my child to call me Mommy. Yet, I am bound by my heart to wait. To wait until test results come in, until my anual pap to tell me that the pre-cancerous cells haven't returned, until Williams due date passes. I am bound by my heart and my brain working together and yet part of me feels that they are both conspiring against me.

Being alone isn't such a good thing for grief. Especially when no one has invented the on off switch for the brain. Wouldn't that be a nice one?! So, I am going to go be alone, I am going to stare at the t.v., on some travel channel and wish I could jump through the screen to my destination. I'm going to go be alone and watch the snow fall, and revel in it's beauty, it's keeping me inside, it's wonder of how it falls and seems to slow down the world out there if only for a short while.

3 comments:

HLHArts said...

For me, I went through a lot of regret for a while before I realized it wasn't helping me. You made the best decisions you could have made in the moment. No one is thinking straight during times like this... instead you think with your gut and make quick decisions based on whatever your brain is managing to process. Don't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong!

I am so sorry being alone is hard. I wish I was nearby and could come and hang out with you to ease it a little.

CLC said...

Being alone is hard. It's when I have the most time to relive my days in the hospital too. I think we all have regrets, but you have to remember that how could you have possible prepared for this? No one is going to come up with a "death plan" when they are living with the joy of pregnancy and blissfully unaware of the sadness that can await them. You did what you could do, remember you were probably in shock and disbelief.

Beautiful Curve said...

This post absolutely speaks to me. I don’t know where to begin. We all have regrets - all of us. My husband regrets not holding her, while I don’t. Yet at the same time I too wish I had known abut NILMDS and their photography program. Yet what I think we fail to realize is that we were not bargaining for our children to die. We were busy making plans about bringing them home, midnight feedings, baths, etc. How could we know of the cruel outcome? We were caught off guard, and we could only make the best decisions with the information we had at the time.

The great comfort I have is my belief (like yours) that our babies’ souls were not present by the time they were birthed or in the cases where they pass shortly after. They were already in what I believe to be God’s Glory. I feel they know who their mommies and daddies are. They know and understand our immense love and longing. Yet they don’t understand (and thankfully so!) our heartache and sadness for them. Take comfort in knowing that when it truly mattered you did all you had to do for him, and that by the time he came, it was time to be selfish (I hope you know what I mean). This was your time, because by then his time had ended.

I know what you mean about your desires to be a mom and your questions about being ready. Personally I waited 6 months and tried for 3 months before becoming pregnant. So 9 months. I think it was good for me to wait. Good for me to confront my inner demons, my crazy thoughts, and deep dark sadness. Good to see all I had in me. I think this is your time.

Sorry for such a long comment, but this post truly spoke to me.

Very Big Hugs to you,
Beautiful Curve