Defeated

There are still moments where my mind suddenly goes to June 1st and all of its horrible events. I think of how much faith I placed in the hands of the docs taking care of me, assuring me Korbin could be just fine. And it breaks my heart all over again. The perinatologist said there must be something wrong with his lungs and heart, and that is why he didn't survive. When it was time for the death certificate to be mailed to us, I panicked that we hadn't received his birth certificate yet. I had to have that before I could let the death certificate enter my mind. We drove to the hospital, filled out the forms, waited in line, and then got Korbin's birth certificate. The death certificate came the next day. When I opened it, I saw the cause of death: extreme prematurity. I instantly felt defeated, but then assured myself that no, we hadn't received the autopsy results yet, so that couldn't be it. And a friend mentioned that we could update it with the real cause of death when we found that out.
Then the autopsy results came (this was mid July now). My OB called to discuss them saying there was good news but bad news. The bad news, Korbin just came too soon. The good news, we didn't have to worry about future genetic testing or IVF like we had thought. Despite this 'good news' I felt devastated. Betrayed my body. Defeated. Why couldn't my body keep him in and safe until he could breathe on his own? Why? The reason for losing Korbin was suddenly gone; there's no good reason why he had to die. I had been okay thinking that it was all due to a problem that wasn't correctable. But for him to die for no reason? So completely unfair.
I see pregnant women almost every day as I leave work who are about to pop and it's become this awful, constant reminder of how my body failed me, how it failed Korbin. It makes me drop my head somewhat in shame. Like I'm a failure because I couldn't do the most important thing, deliver my healthy son to the world. Defeated.
It sucks, it really sucks. The raw, harsh reality of what life is for me now. Empty, almost boring because I long so much to be busy with caring for my baby who needs my attention constantly. I still have Ryan. But I have to relearn how to be okay with it being just the two of us, when it was supposed to be the three of us now.
I know deep down, for my entire family, I've got a lotta love to give.