I failed her, you know.
That's what my mind keeps saying, whispering over and over as I lay here in the dark, alone.
I failed her.
I failed to keep her inside of me, safe and alive.
Instead she was born at 28 weeks, so tiny, so small.
I failed to give her the things she needed to survive, so that when she was born they could take her into surgery and fix her.
Instead she was born with a broken heart, dead.
This is where I fail. This is where I am not enough.
She was tiny, so tiny. She was 28 weeks, but she was perfect. She was perfect, aside from the fact her heart was broken and she was dead.
I failed her. I feel like I failed her. I feel like this is where i wasn't enough. I was sick, I wanted the pregnancy to be over.
I thought she would get better. I thought she would be born alive, that the doctors would fix her, that we would get our miracle.
She was born at 28 weeks, so tiny. Her heart was broken.
It was because of me she died. She is dead because of my body. It is because of me she got sick, because of me she died.
I can't stop thinking about that tonight. it feels like it's on repeat in my brain, like a broken record. I've tried writing this post over and over again, and every time I write it it doesn't come out like i want it to. It's not poetic, maybe not even coherent.
What about grief is poetic?
I feel like it's my fault, even though so many people have told me it isn't. I don't know if I fully believe them. It is because of me she died.
Ah, but it is also because of me she lived, lived for those 28 magical weeks.
I'm not sure what I wanted to get out of writing this post. I don't want to be told this isn't my fault, that i did everything I could. maybe I want companionship? someone to come along side me and say that, as a mother, it is the worst feeling to feel like you failed your child.
I feel like I failed her.
But in the dark, if I listen hard enough, I can hear her whisper, "But mama, I'm ok."
Hi Emily,
ReplyDeleteI found the link to this blog on your Glow in the Woods signature, and wondered if you would be ok with me following you?
I lost my son five weeks ago to SIDS. He was almost six weeks old. I have also been blogging to help with the grief. http://minnamom.blogspot.com/
Thank you for sharing your grief.
-Minna
Oh Emily. I often, often feel like that I failed my own tiny little daughter. That I wasn't enough to keep her safe. I also thought that I would get a miracle and both my girls. And, sometimes, particularly at night it is still like a broken record.
ReplyDeleteRationally, I know that we didn't fail them. We loved them. We did everything we could. Surrounded them with love and hoped for them and wanted them.
But, in my heart, I still feel awful. And it is the worst feeling in the world, to feel as though you failed your child. The person who you would give anything not to have failed.
And I also hear that whisper in the dark. Perhaps it is all the love that we gave them, that makes sure they are ok? And, as we once reassured them, they now reassure us.
Emily, my son was born at 28 weeks as well. He lived just 4 days. This post resonates with me.
ReplyDeleteI am not going to tell you that it isn't your fault, isn't my fault, isn't our fault...because we both rationally KNOW that it isn't. quite the opposite actually, our love provided for Mia, Finn & Ethan.
I am commenting to assure you that you are not alone my friend. grief is utterly emotional - at least mine is. part of me thinks, more feels, that i failed Ethan. My body was able to safely carry his older siblings, but was unable to do so for him. And there are no medical answers.
I am so sorry that Mia, and Finn, are not with you in an earthly way.
If you will have it, it would be my honor to join you along this journey of healing...perhaps Ethan, Mia & Finn would like that.