I'm sitting here crying. Its been an exhausting day and I feel really overwhelmed. Vera has been sick and I fought with Nolan all day. Piddly stuff. Little things that take over and make mountains out of themselves. And I just want my baby back in my arms. Right now I never want to have another child. Ever again. I want to go out to the cemetery and lay down next to where he is with his album and the lock of his hair I have and cry. I want to just lay there forever and cry. I sound like an insane person. I just sit and stare at the piles of Asher's clothes in my room. I smell the last clothes he had on. I touch his hair. I stare and stare and stare at his face. His slackened bluish face. I try to understand what went wrong. Over and over I play the "What if ....." game. What if I'd lay still more. What if I'd jumped up and down more. What if I'd just chosen to do things like everyone else and scheduled a C-section. I could have saved him. If I hadn't been so stubborn. Why was everyone but me so terrified those last 3 weeks, but I had no clue. Where was my mother's intuition? How can a knot in the cord kill some babies but not most? Why did it have to be mine?? I never opened his eyes to find out what color his eyes were. Every mom should know what color her child's eyes are. I just want to hold him again. I wish I could go back and hold him more. I wish I'd have told that Dr. not to give me the cervidil so my labor would have lasted longer. Just a few more minutes with my son. MY SON. my son. Right now the part of my brain that makes sense says that this is not my fault and that no one blames me. But the unreasonable part of me that aches and craves to have a baby boy in my arms says that this is most certainly my fault. And that everyone secretly blames me. They all thought you were crazy to start with...... what else could possibly have happened??? Of course you signed your child's death warrant. NO! No! This is not your fault. This was a random act of nature. Something that cannot be predicted or prevented or helped in any way. My brains are arguing. All day they argue.
The other day I lay in bed holding Vera's baby doll to my chest and talking to it. I'm surely going crazy. I'm really great at hiding it, you'd never know from the outside. I don't let people see me act crazy. I don't want people to know I'm loosing my mind.
Monday will be 1 month. 11 more months and it will be the anniversary of his death.