Every month in support group we talk about our current struggles, and things that we're taking issue with right now. There's the blatantly obvious; duh, my baby's dead. But here are all the things that I struggled with emotionally today:
I woke up to another day alone, a childless mother still.
There are many out there who don't recognize that I am a mother. They don't see children, or a child, hanging around, therefore I'm not a mother. That hurts, and really sucks.
I regret not doing the professional photography service. So many missed photos.
I never counted Korbin's fingers, or his toes. And on that note, I never saw his extra thumb. I imagine it was actually quite adorable, and something we could have easily taken care of later in his life.
I wish I'd snuggled with him when I had him. But I felt immobile from the c-section and pain meds, and the shock from knowing we were never bringing him home. Ever.
Although I guess he is at home with us in that we have his ashes now. But what parent truly wants that? And he's up in Heaven, I pray, so is he actually with us?
And why didn't he just breathe? Why weren't his lungs developed enough at 24wks5days yet Donovan's were developed enough at 24wks3days?
What did the perinatologist do wrong when attempting to intubate?
He shouldn't have scared us into the autopsy. He told us something something must be wrong with Korbin, and that's why he didn't survive. We should really get the autopsy to find out what was wrong with him. Well, nothing. He was a perfectly healthy baby boy, even genetically. And he was cut and sawed apart to figure out basically nothing. I hate that. I feel like he was destroyed by that. I blame the perinatologist for that.
And then we burned him and now his ashes sit on our shelf in a beautiful box that Ryan picked out, engraved with Korbin's name. I don't know I can ever let go of it though.
Why didn't we have a service? Oh ya, parents aren't exactly prepared to, one, tell people their baby died after being born, and two, that there's a funeral. Who can plan a baby's funeral anyway?
Why wasn't it Noah instead of Korbin? I would have been such a better parent. Truly terrifyingly terrible to admit, but it's a thought that keeps resurfacing.
I feel really guilty that my dad and Pam didn't get to meet Korbin, and yet my mom saw him the next day in the morgue. I feel awful about that. And I don't know why I was so afraid to have them there, but I seriously was at the time.
I never ever ever wanted to let go of him, to hand over his lifeless body to a stranger who saw him last.
And finally:
He was cold when I first kissed him. No mother wants to think the child they carried and now hold is lifeless in their arms. And here was Korbin, cold from having been gone so long already.
All in one day, and today was a good day. Still filled with anger, bitterness, jealousy, and sadness. I guess in a way it shows I've got a lotta love to give.
I remember thinking how brave you were to have the autopsy done. It seems like, "yeah, do an autopsy, of course you want to know." But when it's your loved one, your baby, it is almost unthinkable, unbearable to let their body be desecrated. So you were brave. And you did the right thing. It was wrong for the perinatologist to influence your decision using fear and uncertainty. But if there was even a chance something was wrong with Korbin, you had to know. And the fact that he was an utterly perfect baby, that is worth knowing as well. You did the right thing.
ReplyDeleteYou have painful regrets. You wish you had done some things differently. What I have to say is, you will never forget what actually happened June 1st. So let your imagination create a more soothing narrative. You did kiss Korbin's head and he was still warm. You cuddled him and unwrapped his blanket and marveled at his little body. You whispered to him how much you love him and want him to stay, but if he has to go, it's okay. Imagine these moments. You have a wonderful, creative mind, Lisa. Maybe re-imagining some of these regrets can bring you even a small measure of comfort.