Day 4, I think

Moments of happiness overshadowed by the complete sorrow, mourning that I have never felt. Nothing in life that I have lost is anywhere near the pain of losing my baby. Medical waste, he was referred to by someone as medical waste. He had 10 fingers, 10 perfect toes, ears that were formed, his eyes were open everything was how it was supposed to be. He was perfect in every way, except that he didn't breath, his heart no longer beat. He was much more than medical waste. I don't care that the law says he was just a bundle of cells, that I could have decided to have him ripped from my womb if I cared to, he is/was a human baby. He was not just a bundle of cells, not just medical waste, he is my son, my baby, and now my saint. Saint Colm.

Earlier I thought it was a good day, I felt saddness, but it was tolerable. But now again I feel such sorrow. I think of how he looked and how I wish I could see him in his heavenly body, he must be so beautiful. Tomorrow will be hard and I don't know if I am ready. His services will mean it is real, I will have to come to terms with the truth that my baby died. Why us? We are not perfect parents, sometimes we yell too much or are maybe not as loving as we could be, but we ar enot bad parents. We love our children, we nourish them physically and spiritually. Why our son? Why us and not some deadbeat, crack head? I try to convince myself that I did nothing wrong, but I must have to deserve such deep, deep sorry.

4:55pm
Sometimes I wonder why I am so tired, why I just don't feel great and then I remember that I just gave birth less than a week ago. I forget because I don't have the baby to hold in my arms. But, I am still indeed recovering physically from child birth and pregnancy. I need to remind myself because I have been doing way too much.

8:16pm

Dinner is finished.  I am very grateful for our community here, they have helped us immensely by bringing us meals so we don't have to cook dinner.  Considering we have just about no food in the house, this is a good thing.  We needed to go shopping the day we found out that Colm had died.  I had planned on going after I went to see the midwife, but instead I got to go to the hospital to deliver my dead son.  So, no food for us.  We have pancakes.  I guess I will make those for the boys before school. I know I will probably be awake anyway.

9:37 pm

So many things we didn't do.  We never took any pictures of my pregnant belly.  I never posted pictures of my ultrasound to my message board.  I didn't order his new diapers.  I kept putting off the belly pictures. I was going to take some at 10, 15 and 20 weeks to start, and I didn't.  I still wonder if I knew all along that he wasn't going to make it.  I still feel like it is my fault.  I should have taken my vitamin more regularly.  I should have eaten better, no sushi, no lunch meat, no candy.  I know better than to think like this, but it is so difficult not to.

10:14 pm

Again I find something that I wish I had done differently.  Colm was supposed to be my 'prefect' birth. In the back of my mind I knew something was going to go wrong.  I thought it would end in c-section for some reason.  But, no, I couldn't have something that mildly upsetting.  I get this.  This horrible death.  He died!  He was supposed to be put into my arms the minute he was born.  I was supposed to hold him first!  And even my dead baby goes to a table before he comes to me.  

Giving this a try

So I have so many thoughts going through my head since I lost my son.  I need somewhere to get them out and think and cry and laugh.  I guess this is a good way to try to get some understanding.

Today is day three since my littlest baby was born, day three since my world was turned upside down and my dreams were shattered.  You always think how sad it is when someone loses a child, and then it happens to you and it is even worse than you could imagine.  And yet, it isn't as hard at the same time.  You want so much to have them back, to hold him to be able to love him, but he is in a far better place where he will never feel suffering.  But, I am selfish and I want him...he is mine and I want him back.

The what-ifs have started.  What-if I didn't lay on my back the other day, what if I didn't eat so many Hershey Kisses, what-if I paid more attention to his movements, what-if I went last week could they have delivered him?  would he have survived?  What-if, what-if, what-if.  Did I not eat healthy enough, should I have quit exercising, was it the day I did the elliptical for 25 minutes?  How, why, was it something I did? And yet none of this will bring him back, but I so wish I could.

So now I mourn my youngest child, Colm Cornelius, my tiny little saint in Heaven.