I’ve seen us on Facebook. There are a few of us out there who, for whatever reason, were not present to greet our babies. The mothers who didn’t get to say Hello, or Goodbye.
I gave birth while in a medicated coma. Thomas entered the world and I was not there to hold him. Like most mothers, I tormented myself with guilt. I felt a failure. I couldn’t even meet my own son; it was a horribly cruel twist of fate.
Thanks to an amazing friend, I have pictures. Thanks to my amazing sister, I have pictures of when my family met Thomas at the funeral home. I know what his casket looked like. I know what the teddy bear, my husband asked my sister to purchase, looks like. I know what pictures of us Rob tucked in his casket. I can see their faces as they looked in at our tiny, little son. Even with these precious images – that I realize not everyone is able to have – I continued to flog myself. I should have been there. (Which is pretty irrational; I was in Critical Care and wouldn’t wake up for several more weeks.)
In a heated exchange – in a futile attempt to end my grief – my husband once said to me “you didn’t even meet him”. I instantly replied,” I didn’t have to, I grew him”. I was too busy blaming myself to realize that even though I wasn’t there in the physical sense, my love for him is everywhere. I wasn’t in the room, but my love transcends geography. I didn’t need to be in the room for Thomas to know how much his mama loved, wanted and adores him. My love for him was in the oxygen that kept him with us for 22 weeks. It was in the way I would rub my baby bump. My love for him was on every star, throughout my pregnancy that I desperately wished for a healthy baby. It was in my ridiculous attempts to find a food, ANY food, that would stay down.
I wasn’t there to say hello and goodbye. But my love was there.
And so was yours.
It’s time to forgive ourselves; it’s time to realize it isn’t attendance but our sheer, unadulterated love that mattered in that moment and all other moments since then.
It’s time to heal, one tear at a time.
- The Importance Of Pictures - October 12, 2020
- Self-Isolation And Still Mothers - April 3, 2020
- And Here We Are - June 24, 2019
So beautifully written and so true – but so hard to action. Self forgiveness is the hardest thing to do, yet most often, the most critical. Thank you for the reminder that the love for our babies is always there even if we’re not.
Neusa: it didn’t happen overnight, it took a long time, a lot of tears and therapy. Writing helps, chocolate helps – but time really was key. hugs