This time of the year is one filled with many emotions. On November 26th, 2005, our second son was stillborn when I was 37 weeks along in our pregnancy. He was perfect, tiny, had curly little locks, and looked like his Daddy.
Four years later, I can still picture everything with the utmost clarity. I hold those feelings and memories close to my heart; they keep Jaxon close and center me on days when I need it.
But this year, what I find interesting is the journey of how we are coping. Last year, I think I was “better” than this year. (If my old counselor saw this, he would shudder. He said it was wrong to judge my feelings as good or bad. They just are what they are and should not have a value. Sorry! 🙂 ) This year, I am having horrific nightmares about my children who are thankfully here with us. So terrible that I will not talk about them out loud. Because that leads to another “thing” I am this year – extremely superstitious.
“Drive safe” and “I love you” are more plentiful than typical right now.
I imagine worst case scenarios and am happiest and content when we are together as a family.
I feel like I am waiting for the ball to drop. Why?
In talking with One Daddy, he seems to share my feelings this year. But he drew a connection I had not. During the summer before we lost our son, we had a conversation about how blessed we were. We had the health of our family, love, friends, good jobs, our precious Mr. C, and a son on the way. Until that point, we truly had not suffered a major loss. Then my Grandfather’s health declined and he passed away. Ed and his lifelong love, Margie, were like our compass. Whenever we visited, the world became right. Losing him was hard for both of us. Then a few weeks after that our good friends had complications in the birth of their baby girl and had to make the painful decision to let her pass away at home. That hit us so hard; if it could happen to someone just like us, how could we know our son was OK?
We talked through all of the scenarios…What would we do if we were in those shoes? We became more aware and watchful over our precious son. I went in for my weekly appointment and told my doctor I could not feel him as much. She quickly assured me it was just the extra fluid and he was fine. A few days later he was gone.
And now here we are four years later.
But there is a connection. Ed’s wife passed away in October of last year. They are now together as they are meant to be. At that same time, my Step-Dad was diagnosed with stomach cancer. He passed away in April just six months later. So that superstitious feeling we have? Wondering where the third “bad” thing is…and praying it never shows its face.
I still wrestle with guilt four years later. It is not an every day feeling, but I guess what it boils down to is that even four years later, I do believe it could have been prevented. If we had been more vigilant about the effects of Polyhydramnios on a baby in the womb, if we had pushed for more information when our doctor simply left it at, “Well, this is just how your body responds to pregnancy.”
…If, If, If.
If only our little boy was still here.