When I think of L (also known as Q - see this post for an explanation of names), my mind frequently wanders to the regrets I have related to her birth and the very brief time we had with her. As many of you know, there is no way to prepare for the decisions you are asked to make in rapid succession when you know you are giving birth to a stillborn baby. There are so many decisions and each is more torturous than the next.
I delivered L vaginally while on more morphine than I can even imagine. I couldn't have an epidural because of my blood clot and I don't feel like the morphine helped the pain all that much, but it did make me feel completely separate from my body. I remember feeling like I had floated up above my body and was watching what was happening from above -- I couldn't possibly be going through this myself. For the record, I hated this feeling and wish I hadn't taken any drugs and just experienced the birth. It is easy to say that now, but my mind doesn't handle narcotics well and I hate the way they make me feel.
R and I have never really spoken about L's delivery. We certainly talk about her, but we mention that night mostly in generalities, so perhaps my recollection is wrong. In my mind, L came into the world in silence (both hers and ours). It was the middle of the night and the room felt eerie. A doctor arrived and out she came. The nurse asked if I wanted to hold her and I did, but not yet. My OB arrived shortly thereafter, L was given a bath, and my OB asked us if we were ready. R was in the bed with me and I took tiny L into my arms. She weighed only a pound, but she looked like... well, she looked like a very small baby. Her eyes were closed. I remember her hands seemed disproportionately large, but I loved her tiny fingers and held each one, marveling at how very much she looked like the sweet girl I had imagined growing in my belly.
We each held her and kissed her tiny forehead. But I was still totally out of it from the meds, it was the middle of the night, and honestly the whole experience is a total blur for me. Eventually my OB returned and took L away. The next morning I awoke and headed to surgery. I remember wanting desperately to have another chance to hold L once I felt aware of what was going on, but she was gone and there was never another offer to bring her back. That said, I never asked. Admittedly, there was a lot going on with my surgery and being in the ICU, but I never asked to hold her again. It both breaks my heart that the only time I had with her I was not myself, not cognizant of my surroundings and it makes me feel like I didn't do her justice. I didn't spend the time with her that she deserved and that I so desperately wanted. Why didn't we bathe her? Why didn't I memorize every inch of her tiny body? Why didn't I hug her and hold her for as long as I wanted to? Was it fear and a shortcoming in my personality? What kind of Mom does this make me?
I have so many regrets about that brief time we had with L. I think about it often and search in my mind for details from the night she was born to no avail. I know there is no playbook for handling grief and loss, but I wish I had handled it differently...
(I'm feeling very sad today and this week generally, for no apparent reason. Sigh.)
I am sorry you are feeling so sad and that you have regrets about your short time with L. I wish it was different, and I'm hoping for some peace to come your way. What happened was not fair, and the way it happened made it suck even more. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Julia. I do sometimes have peace about it, just not recently. I appreciate your kind thoughts.
DeleteWe all have regrets, I think. At least I do. So many. The hardest thing is the shock and having to live through it making actual life changing (for you) decisions. How should anyone be expected to make those decisions when it was a totally unexpected turn of events to begin with? I'm so sorry it's been hard.
ReplyDeleteI was cutting a Christmas card today to repurpose and do a project with the kids today. Andrew's sketch picture was one of the three small "kid" slots on the Christmas card, as I refuse to deny him that space. I only send to a handful of people anyway and mostly just immediate family. I couldn't bear to discard his part of the picture, so I cut the small 1-inch sketch and stuck it in my wallet. I think I'll keep him in my wallet forever.
You are so right about having to make those life-changing decisions without any context or guidance or forethought. I suppose we all just do the best that we can and I need to remember that.
DeleteI love the idea of a photo in your wallet forever. I bet it will make you smile every time you see it (in a sad way, I know)...
You simply cannot adequately prepare to give birth to a stillborn child. You cannot predict how you will feel later on, and what details will become important. I have similar misgivings about the drugs I took and the disassociation I felt as a result. I try to be gentle with myself, and hope that you can, too. I'm sure that you did the best that you could, and none of your decisions reflect any shortcomings of you as a mother. It is an impossible situation.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Aurelia. It is nice to know I'm not the only one with these regrets (although I wish we all had none). You are spot on - it is an impossible situation.
DeleteSo sorry you are suffering this week. You are a wonderful mom who went through something terribly sad. I don't think there's any way to make L's loss feel ok. I hope writing about it helped with the thoughts and regrets.
ReplyDeleteIt did - thanks for letting me share and for reading.
DeleteI'm sorry you were having a tough day and feeling sad. I hope that now, a few days later, you aren't feeling as sad but you should allow yourself to feel however you need to feel. Grief comes in waves and we can't always tell when it's going to hit or what might trigger it.
ReplyDeleteAs for regrets, although our situations aren't the same I hold regrets too. And in these situations we have to make decisions so rapidly that we can't always process future ramifications. I have regrets too, but I try to remember I did the best I could with the information I was given, and you did too. Even if you weren't on morphine, the situation may still have been a "blur" - I was never on morphine but I can tell you that I have trouble remembering some of the details of my conversations and what went into my decision making process. Also the day of my procedure is a fuzzy memory. I think perhaps it's the minds way of protecting itself.
I wish there was more to do or say to make it "better" but what happened with L is just so, so shitty and nothing will ever make it better. But I hope you know I am supporting you and sending you much love and light from Massachusetts.
The rapid decisions are so tough, aren't they? And you are right that the whole event probably would have been blurry even if I weren't on all the drugs. R and I always describe that time as the Twilight Zone. It was so eerie and bizarre (in addition to sad and awful and heart-wrenching, etc.). Thanks for all of the support from MA :)
DeleteI read this nodding because so much of what you wrote was/is true for me. I have so many regrets from our far too short time with Cale. I didn't hold him as long as I should have - like not even close. I was too scared to even unwrap his blanket and when asked, I declined any pictures (which is my biggest regret). Our nurses took two anyway (THANK GOD!) but I wish I said yes (they were asking if we wanted any with our camera - no one mentioned NILMDTS though sadly had they done that I fear I would have even said no). I wish I had more guidance during his delivery and especially afterwards, but part of my big guilt is feeling like I failed him because I wish I didn't need guidance and knew what to do - knew to hold him longer and look at his feet and give him a bath and not be scared of him. He was perfect and beautiful, but I couldn't see past my own broken heart and it sucks, even noe 5.5 years later. Gah.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, as I go down that rabbit hole just know you aren't alone. I think we did the best we could at the time, but I understand wishing it was better.
Oh, Caroline, me, too. I think the hardest thing for me to admit is that I was scared. I was scared to hold my baby girl and to see what she really looked like.
DeleteOur hospital took photos for us even though we didn't ask for them. In fact, I think we declined and they did it anyway and I am so thankful they did. I suspect they know how parents feel after the fact... We initially didn't plan to have Q/L buried or cremated, either, but the hospital holds the body for 30 days because people change their minds so often, as we did. We did have her cremated and we named her (again, several days later).
Sorry for leading you down that rabbit hole. I suspect we'll both have regrets for the rest of our lives but you are right -- we did the best we could at the time.
I hope my Cuddle Cot piece didn't spark some fresh grief for you. There is also so much I wish I had thought of during my moments with Lydie. I have gotten emails from a few parents who have used the Cuddle Cot and while i am glad I was able to help them, I am also jealous that they had more time with their child (isn't it fucked up to be jealous of such a thing?). Definitely an impossible situation and I also try to be gentle with myself.
ReplyDeleteOh, Heather, not at all. In fact, I went to their website and as trying to figure out how I could work with them to get one at the hospital where I delivered. I see my OB next month for my annual exam and am going to ask her if they have them or if she has heard of them. It is not fucked up at all to feel jealous of that time. I feel the same way! I read about people who took their time with their baby and wish I had done the same. Usually I can be gentle with myself, just not recently.
DeleteSeriously, though, thanks so much for enlightening me about Cuddle Cot. What a necessary (sadly) product and so inventive.
I don't have any deep feelings of regret when it comes to Nancy's birth. In the days leading up to her death - sadly yes, I have a thousand. But the birth itself? Not really.
ReplyDeleteWhen I look back on it, one thing strikes me - it was maybe the first time in my life I had acted entirely on instinct. It was just so fucking real. There was no blueprint, no Hollywood script that I had seen to tell me what to do, so I just did what felt right at the time. Really what else can we do? I did't get to bathe her, I didn't look over every inch of her body, the photos I have are rather stark and shocking (I do wish I'd known about NILMDTS or had something like that suggested to me) but what on earth prepares us for this experience? You are a good mum and you made your decisions out of love and respect for L in the worst possible of circumstances. I am just so sorry that this is your - our - reality.
I hadn't thought about this as you do above, but you are so right. You do have to act on instinct because there are no expectations or understanding of what is to be done in an unimaginable situation. Thanks so much for your comment - it really does help to remember that we all just did what felt right at the time.
DeleteI read this when you posted, but I am now just getting the time to post a comment. I have regrets as well in regards to my twins' birth and passing, and I know what it is like to carry them with you. You did what you could. I think in retrospect, we would have regrets no matter how the situation played out. I hope that you find peace and comfort.
ReplyDeleteKrystal, I know you are right. No matter what I did, I would always think I could have done something different or better. Generally I have peace and comfort about it, just not all the time. It comes in waves, right?
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