Macerated. It is a horrible word and I hate it. And that is what goes through my mind now when I think of Colm. No, it isn't a bad word, but I hate it. It means I let him be dead inside me for a long time, it means I was in so much denial and was so scared. I knew he was dead, or at least he was not doing well, I knew it, I could feel it. And I didn't do anything about it. I know, I know, i know he was not big enough to be save, I know that, I know the outcome would not have been any different, he would still be dead. But, maybe the placenta would have been able to tell us more. There were clots, but that happens when the baby has been dead a long time, but it also happens when a cot is what kills the baby, and I will never know for which reason there were clots present. Yes, I can be tested for clotting disorders, I guess I should go through with that to be careful. But, what really makes me sad, is that the only thing I really have of him are his pictures, and if I had been strong enough to admit that he was gone, well then he would have nicer pictures, because he wouldn't be macerated. Macerated, macerated. Severe maceration suggestive of intrauterine demise > 7 days. And I knew. I tried to pretend it was the anterior placenta, but I knew and I waited, and hoped and imagined movements, but he was dead and I was in denial and now it is my fault that I hate his pictures, I hate the only little part of him I have. I hate that I look at them and feel that he isn't the beautiful baby he should be, and then I don't want to look at him and then I feel guilty about that.
HOw do you talk about something like this? Where do you find someone who understands? How many mothers hate the site of their own baby?
I just miss him so much. I want my baby back. I promise I didn't mean it when I thought to myself in the beginning that I didn't want to be pregnant. I really, truly didn't mean it. It is just that my back hurt, and I had my fitness test to worry about, and Evie was so young, and it was just so overwhelming at the time. But, I really did want him. So why does the little voice in my head keep badgering me and telling me, "you got what you asked for"? Even then, that day when I was trying to stand up and my back was like being stabbed because of the pain. Even that day when I thought to myself that I just didn't want to be pregnant, when I was crying because I couldn't walk. Even that day I said to myself, "if something happens you will forever feel guilty" Boy, was I right. I told myself that not wanting to be pregnant because it was so painful, was NOT the same as not wanting the baby that grows inside you. But, I still just feel so bad. I did want him, and yet I feel like it is somehow my fault, because for one brief moment I thought to myself that I didn't want to be pregnant.
Tonight is a sad night, and I just want my baby back. I want my belly to be huge and my back to be hurting.
I don't want to be the mother of a dead baby.