regret
One of the many things that's so hard about losing a child is all the guilt and regret that follows. It seems to lessen...at least it did a bit with Jorai, as it's been over 2 1/2 years now, but for awhile it's all consuming. I think that's why I've been drinking at night. The guilt and regret covers me when I'm quiet. Alcohol numbs it. It quiets my mind and makes me sleepy, so I can fall asleep fast. Not that I'm abusing it. So please don't think that...
Last night, I was going to have a glass of wine, but I never did...and as I was laying in bed, my mind went crazy. When we lost Jorai, we held her for hours. We stared at her and touched her and wept over her. Her skin was starting to degrade and her nose started to bleed so we knew we needed to give her to the nurses because I wanted to remember her as perfect. We only have the pictures that the hospital took. And they took decent pictures, but nothing like NILMDTS. But I can see her body. They took a naked shot for us. I can see her face and her vision is so vivid in my mind that as soon as I saw Asher, I could see Jorai in his features. Even our doctor mentioned it.
When Selah was placed on my chest, I was frightened. She was tiny. Her face was so small and oblong and there was no fat to give it dimension and it made her chin look really pointy. Because she was so young, gestationally, I think her little skull was changed a bit when she traveled through my birth canal. Her eyes were closed and her mouth hung open. Jorai looked as if she were asleep. Selah looked dead. Her skin was so delicate, it was falling off her ankles and wrists by the time we gave her to the nurses, just a few hours after she was born. When I looked at my daughter lying on my chest, I couldn't breathe. I was sobbing so hard I couldn't talk. I simply couldn't breathe. I was choking for air. It was devastating. To lose a child is horrible, but to not even be able to look at her, is unthinkable. I'm ashamed, but I asked my doctor to take her and wrap her. I just couldn't see that look of death upon my precious baby's face. And that makes me ashamed of myself. I should have been proud of her, no matter what she looked like...and I was, but I just couldn't look at her. I feel horrible about it. When our photographer went to take photo's of her, I asked her to only take them of her hands and feet. The time we spent with her, I barely held her. I feel horrible about it and I would do anything to hold her again, now. But I just couldn't then. I was so broken, I couldn't even hold my child. That makes me feel like the worst mother in the world. But she just looked so broken and you could tell by one look at her, that she wasn't there. She looked deflated.
I kissed her tiny feet and hands and felt them turn from warm to cold. I held her a bit, but there was no weight to her. It felt as if I were holding an empty blanket with the exception that little hands and feet were poking out. I never had the courage to unwrap her and take her in. I let Steve hold her mostly. I just feel so ashamed.
Last night that feeling consumed me. I felt as if Selah and Jorai both were ashamed of me as well. I just couldn't shake the darkness from my bedside. All I could see was her tiny face and open mouth staring at me...over...and over...and over again. And then I thought, what kind of mother am I to not be able to look fully at my child? What kind of mother am I to not ask for all kinds of pictures? I'm not a good one.
But I know I am. I know Jorai, Asher and Selah love me and are proud of me. But I don't. This is the dichotomy of grief. With Jorai and Selah both, all I have are fleeting memories and pain. A whole lot of pain. And with pain, comes regret and guilt. A lot of regret and guilt.
The photographer who photographed Selah for NILMDTS is a friend of mine. I emailed her today, in hopes that she may have taken a few photo's of her face. And though she didn't she sent me the below description of her. It's something I'll cherish my whole life. The fact that she remembers my daughter so well and can describe her face and body to me, means the world. It also makes me realize what I missed out on all the more. But there's nothing I can do about that now. I miss my daughter so much right now. I can't stop sobbing. This sucks. I just feel so heavy in grief, today.
Here's Selah...in words only...
Last night, I was going to have a glass of wine, but I never did...and as I was laying in bed, my mind went crazy. When we lost Jorai, we held her for hours. We stared at her and touched her and wept over her. Her skin was starting to degrade and her nose started to bleed so we knew we needed to give her to the nurses because I wanted to remember her as perfect. We only have the pictures that the hospital took. And they took decent pictures, but nothing like NILMDTS. But I can see her body. They took a naked shot for us. I can see her face and her vision is so vivid in my mind that as soon as I saw Asher, I could see Jorai in his features. Even our doctor mentioned it.
When Selah was placed on my chest, I was frightened. She was tiny. Her face was so small and oblong and there was no fat to give it dimension and it made her chin look really pointy. Because she was so young, gestationally, I think her little skull was changed a bit when she traveled through my birth canal. Her eyes were closed and her mouth hung open. Jorai looked as if she were asleep. Selah looked dead. Her skin was so delicate, it was falling off her ankles and wrists by the time we gave her to the nurses, just a few hours after she was born. When I looked at my daughter lying on my chest, I couldn't breathe. I was sobbing so hard I couldn't talk. I simply couldn't breathe. I was choking for air. It was devastating. To lose a child is horrible, but to not even be able to look at her, is unthinkable. I'm ashamed, but I asked my doctor to take her and wrap her. I just couldn't see that look of death upon my precious baby's face. And that makes me ashamed of myself. I should have been proud of her, no matter what she looked like...and I was, but I just couldn't look at her. I feel horrible about it. When our photographer went to take photo's of her, I asked her to only take them of her hands and feet. The time we spent with her, I barely held her. I feel horrible about it and I would do anything to hold her again, now. But I just couldn't then. I was so broken, I couldn't even hold my child. That makes me feel like the worst mother in the world. But she just looked so broken and you could tell by one look at her, that she wasn't there. She looked deflated.
I kissed her tiny feet and hands and felt them turn from warm to cold. I held her a bit, but there was no weight to her. It felt as if I were holding an empty blanket with the exception that little hands and feet were poking out. I never had the courage to unwrap her and take her in. I let Steve hold her mostly. I just feel so ashamed.
Last night that feeling consumed me. I felt as if Selah and Jorai both were ashamed of me as well. I just couldn't shake the darkness from my bedside. All I could see was her tiny face and open mouth staring at me...over...and over...and over again. And then I thought, what kind of mother am I to not be able to look fully at my child? What kind of mother am I to not ask for all kinds of pictures? I'm not a good one.
But I know I am. I know Jorai, Asher and Selah love me and are proud of me. But I don't. This is the dichotomy of grief. With Jorai and Selah both, all I have are fleeting memories and pain. A whole lot of pain. And with pain, comes regret and guilt. A lot of regret and guilt.
The photographer who photographed Selah for NILMDTS is a friend of mine. I emailed her today, in hopes that she may have taken a few photo's of her face. And though she didn't she sent me the below description of her. It's something I'll cherish my whole life. The fact that she remembers my daughter so well and can describe her face and body to me, means the world. It also makes me realize what I missed out on all the more. But there's nothing I can do about that now. I miss my daughter so much right now. I can't stop sobbing. This sucks. I just feel so heavy in grief, today.
Here's Selah...in words only...
Selah's features were very feminine, tiny little lips and petite little nose. They were set close together, but not too close :) Her ears had a slight fold on the top and were amazingly perfect. The lobes were short and soft. Her hair was fuzzy and very dark, it did seem a tiny bit brownish in the light, but it looked pretty dark to me. Her head seemed a little oblong, but that may have been from the birth process and not from her natural shape.There are no words to describe what I would give for just moments with her again. To see her. To really see her. To hold her and kiss her and feel her skin against mine. I would give almost anything for one more moment with her. With both my girls. Although I love my son and cherish each and every moment I have with him, I also look forward to the day I die so that I can once again be with my daughters. That's such a strange feeling. To want to live for my son and die for my daughters. I want to live to see Asher grow and learn and become a boy and teenager (please help me!) and grown man. I want to see him succeed in whatever he does. I want to support him and love him each and every moment of his life. I want to see him fall in love. I want to meet and love and support his wife. I want to see their love grow. I want to hold grandbabies in my arms and spoil them rotten. I want to see Asher change the world...or maybe just a few peoples lives. I want to be preset. At all times. Until I'm old and gray and well into my hundreds!!! But when the day comes, and I have Asher who is grown and gray himself by my side holding my hand...and his wife and my grandbabies are surrounding me and watching me take my last breath, I'll be sad to leave my child and my family, but excited to meet my girls. Excited to touch them and hold them and cry for joy, and no longer cry for anguish.
Her bottom was so cute, rather formless with no fat to speak of, but it made the doctor and me smile. She also had a very smooth and perfect little tummy. Her cord attached at a tiny little point on her belly, surrounded by smooth baby skin. Her arms and legs were long and she had little to no fat yet, so she appeared to have very long limbs... Probably from her dad though :)
Comments
Keep in mind that you weren't reacting to your daughter. You were reacting to the death that had claimed her. There is a difference, and you must make that dfiferentiation in your mind.
Do not let the deceiver have a stronghold. You know those things about you being a horrible mother are LIES from one who cares nothing for you. He loves to play games with your mind. Hold onto the truth.
I often think of a friend who, before he died, called our pastor and said, "I don't think I'm a Christian. I don't think I've done everything I need to do to get to heaven."
Our pastor replied, "Well, then you don't believe that Jesus Christ is the son of the living God, that he died for your sins and rose again so that you could be with Him in heaven soon?"
My friend replied, "Well, of course I do."
The pastor said, "Well, there you go then."
When we examine our emotions in the stark light of truth, the lies tend to skitter away. You know it.
Selah knows you love her. She will tell you that when she holds you in her arms. What a glorious moment, huh? Selah and Jorai (once again, I LOVE your naming abilities...) holding you in their arms, telling you that all is complete and good and perfect. No LONGING, ever again.
Longing for those you have lost while loving the ones you can hold tangibly in your arms is such a confusing, depressing thing. I know our situations are so different but in many ways they are similar.
Crying my eyes out over here...and I TOTALLY get the wine at night thing.
I love my girl's (and boy! great taste by the way!!) names too...it's kinda ironic that they're so heavenly.
second, i know e-x-a-c-t-l-y how you feel about your sweet Selah. i feel terrible when i think about never holding my baby, but i was literally in a different world, having much different thoughts than everyone around me. i could go on for days about it, but this isn't about me, its about making sure you KNOW that you're a wonderful mommy!
your darling Selah knows your love, just like Jorai and Asher.
here's to learning more about your story. i'm excited.
cheers, julie