Regrets..

I try not to dwell on regrets, but a few haunt me.

I do not have very many photographs of CJ.  None of his sweet bare head or toes.  If you know my background, you know how insane that is.  If I would have just used my cell phone...  If I had chosen a friend for my husband to call that would have come running without a second thought... 

I should have spent more time holding my baby.  I felt rushed (by my own fault). I should have insisted he stay with me for the night.  I should have made memories-rocked him, sang to him, given him a bath, held him on my shoulder, and dressed him how I wanted to take him home.

I shouldn't have rushed the process of saying goodbye.  I should have waited a few days before making arrangements so my husband wouldn't have to do it alone. I should have agreed to a wake. 

There are a million others.  They haunt me in the middle of the night.  Last night brought lots of tears as it all came flooding back again.

I did the best that I could at that moment.  I've heard and said those words a million times.  It helps lessen the guilt knowing how true that is, but regrets will always be there.

I read another mommy's post recently that made a remarkable point.  She stated:

Stillbirth is the only time where a loving mother is an active participant in her child's death. 

Those words stayed with me all night.  Miscarriage is a heartbreaking time to go through.  Many do not know this, but we have been there.  But carrying a baby who is far enough to survive outside of your body, finding out he is dead, then laboring to still bring him into the world kills a piece of you in the process.  To look into the beautiful perfect face of your son who looks to be sleeping, and have to accept the fact that he is dead... Nobody could manage that without regrets.

Even the language hurts. Stillborn.  Dead. Grave.  Each simple word rips at your soul. People suggest softer words, but why sugar coat it?  I realize my language may be harsh and even shocking at times, but you see-

I was an active participant in my son's death. 

I'm not ready to sweeten up the words to make it all ok.  Making others uncomfortable is the least of my concerns.  I'm trying to figure out how to live with that knowledge and not dwell in regret or guilt.

What keeps me moving forward is remembering that sweet little face.  Of all my regrets, CJ will never be one of them!  Every memory of the time I spent with him is such a blessing. What we thought was a promised future with our little boy brought such joy to our entire extended family. The love and excitement in our home changed us in ways many families only dream of.  That can never be taken away.

Regrets.  Guilt.  Crummy parts of this journey that I'm doing my best to keep in check.  I pray I can forgive myself completely one day.  I'm guessing that will be the day in heaven that I finally get to look into my son's eyes and apologize.

Until then, my life must be a reflection of my love for CJ.  Somehow, I will #doitforcj