I knew the peace I found yesterday was temporary but I had hoped it would last longer than 1 day. Last night I dreamed I had an early miscarriage, I didn't even know I was pregnant. I just had a gush of blood at my doctor's office and she told me she saw an embryo. I went to my husband crying and he got mad because I couldn't tell him right away what was wrong.
I spent the morning drive to work reliving Aiden's birth. Feeling that tiny, still body slip from me and hearing the soft words of my doctor as she checked the placenta. I wish I could unremember that part. I realized that part of the problem with my dreams is that I have no good memories of Aiden.
There was a discussion on Glow in the woods not too long ago that caused some misunderstandings and hurt feelings. I think everyone managed to work it out to some degree but I feel I have to rehash some of it to explain this feeling. A couple of women that had miscarriages or lost their babies before birth were regretting that they didn't get more time. The mothers of the babies that were born alive but didn't live long were horrified that anyone would want the memory of their baby suffering before it died.
Other people explained it more eloquently, but it came down to just wanting more time with our babies, not wishing for suffering. For me I wanted a memory of something other than heartbreak and horrible no-win decisions. I wanted a memory of how his warm skin felt in my arms, a memory of his eyes open, a memory of kissing him. A smile would probably not have been possible, but some mothers did get that. I need something other than death and a cold, decomposing body to dream about. Don't get me wrong, I'm not sorry I saw and held Aiden's body. That was the only tangible thing I got out of this pregnancy. I wasn't horrified by his condition, except that I couldn't bring myself to kiss him. That bothers me. But I so wish I had something else to remember. Even his kicking is tainted since he was already paralyzed at 20 weeks. I was only feeling his arms moving and when he jerked; it makes me sick now to think of all the times I smiled when I felt him move.
Protecting Aiden from suffering is the reason we ended the pregnancy early and the reason I didn't get those things. I am okay with our decision. I just wail at the injustice of having to knowingly deprive myself of those memories in order to protect my son. On days like today I almost wish I didn't have the memories I do have, they are all bad. Would it be better to not have Aiden in my heart? The mother in me screams "NO, you will not erase my son", but a small part whispers, "this hurts, I want it to go away."
I wish it would get better.
*Edited to add: I just heard this again and was struck by how appropriate it was.
"It's a need you never get used to, so fierce and so confused.
It's a loss you never get over the first time you lose."
- Come On Come On, Mary Chapin Carpenter