Regrets

I hated a lot of my pregnancy. It was hard and difficult and I was sick a lot and weak. I remember recently talking with a few people about feeling guilty about disliking pregnancy after having had losses because I knew how badly other people wanted to be putting up with all that shit.

And God, I regret it now. I'm not saying that everyone has to be all Pollyanna about vomiting up chunky breakfast dishes or $100 celebratory meals, as I did. But I would do anything to have that time back and to still be pregnant and on bedrest or to know that I would lose my son so that I could rejoice more in the time I had with him.

I regret that I didn't allow myself to love him the way he deserved to be loved by his mother. I was so afraid of to love him, that if I did, he would be taken away from me, or that I would hurt more. But a week ago, I saw him again, sucking his thumb, and got a good look at his face and his long long legs and I was gone. Head over heels. Four perfect days of being in love with my Gabriel. Of talking to him, of reading to him (and how I regret not finishing the story), of telling him how amazing he was and all the things we would do together.

I regret how much time I wasted worrying about stupid things, like that stupid registry. Like money. Like work. Like what people think about me. None of it matters now. God, to have that time again to rub my belly and just spend that time where it mattered, with him. Talking to him, loving him, telling him all about us.

I regret the time I spent wanting a girl, and I regret that he may somehow have thought that I didn't want him because he was a boy. I regret the times we were short-tempered with him or snapped at him because we couldn't find him on the doppler or I was feeling unwell or bleeding again.

I regret his birth, and how I will always wonder if I gone sooner instead of waiting to see if the cramping and then contractions would stop if there would have been enough time. I regret waiting to see which hospital to attend and the choice to wait and go to the closer hospital. I will forever regret that he was left alone for any moment of his brief life. It happened so fast and DH couldn't see that he was alone, and I could. I could have told him to be with our son. I will forever regret that I didn't pick him up after he was born. I was just frozen by it.

I regret that I didn't touch him enough while he was still alive, or kiss him while he was alive or hug him to me tight enough. Is there ever enough time? Did he know he was loved and did he know we were there and was it enough love and touches for a lifetime?

Dh says that his life was what we wanted for him, in many ways. Filled with love and with his family surrounding him. I think he might be right, but there are so many regrets surrounding me right now. So much blame and so many recriminations. So much anger. I miss Gabriel.