I'm sorry that something happened, I don't know what exactly, when you were growing inside of me and it didn't all come together for you. I'm so sorry.
I'm sorry I didn't get to keep you right next to me, as I longed to, after we first met.
I'm sorry I can't bring you to my breast, where you belong.
I'm sorry you have so many, too many, reasons to cry.
I'm sorry it hurts. I don't know what it is, but it bothers you so much. It bothers you for most of the day. Every day. I want to tear whatever it is right out of you and break it with my hands into little pieces and bury it so deeply into the ground so it can never touch you again.
I'm sorry you have to work so hard.
I'm sorry your hunger often goes unsatisfied - a common tragedy that pulls my heart apart.
I'm sorry you got sick on top of it all. And now you work hard to breathe.
I'm sorry we had to take you to a place where we hold you down while you cry, while you scream, while you rage as we prick you and restrain you and we hurt you as we try so hard to help you.
I'm sorry it is three months later and it is still so hard.
I'm sorry your first Christmas is happening in the hospital and we won't have cozy pictures under the tree of you and your sister panama-snuggled in a pile of presents.
I'm sorry about the shadow on the x-ray of your lung. And I'm sorry I don't know what it means yet. I'm sorry that you may have been drowning every time we've been trying to ease the milk down your hungry throat. I'm sorry it might mean more surgery.
I'm sorry that soon after you recover from this, you will then have your first surgery... and need to recover again.
I'm sorry I don't always know what to do for you.
I'm sorry that I told you, at the very least, I could just be there with you. And then I left the room. I left after your screaming became so deafening and three bodies were between yours and mine... when I didn't think you could hear me or see me or sense me through your distress. I left the room while they held you down, to fall to pieces and quickly gathered myself together again to come back to you... to stroke your sweaty, tear stained face.
I'm sorry you have screamed so much in the last three days that your sweet voice is torn to shreds.
Lucy, I'm sorry.
I will hold you as much as I can. I will feed you any way that I can. I will pump your milk for you. I will force myself to sleep so that I can wake up and be stronger for you. I will ask a million questions for you. I will make the very best, most informed decisions I can on your behalf. I will make next Christmas so special for you and your sister. I will love you through all of this as fiercely as I can.
I'm sorry I can't do more. I won't stop trying. I'm so, so sorry, love.
Holding space for you ♥ you are a great mom don't be so hard on yourself you are doing the best you can for lucy hope things get easier for both of you soon ♥ a fellow mommy
ReplyDeletewe will continue to pray for little lucy and send her health accross the miles. little lucy, get well xoxo merry christmas danielle to you and your beautiful family.
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I am sitting here in tears on Christmas morning. I have had a blog post floating around in my head about our first Christmas as a family spent in CHEO. Your writing brought so much to the surface. Heartache that perhaps never truly heals even years later. It is unbelievably shocking how much a mother's (and father's) heart can endure and it is equally unbelievable how resilient these little fighting spirits are who come in the form of our babies/ children. I know that you have loads of support, Daniele, but if you ever need to chat, I hope you will call me collect anytime. xoxo
ReplyDeleteHuge hugs to you this Christmas morning. Your writing cut right to my heart. It brought back so many memories of our son having RSV last winter while he was only 2 months old and in heart failure. I remember holding him down while he screamed and fought against all the pokes. I wish that you and Lucy weren't going through this but oh what a blessing it is to Lucy that you are her mommy. I pray that you will draw strength from each other and that peace and comfort will come soon as Lucy starts to feel better. I have sobbed and whispered "I'm sorry" so many times like a litany to my son. As mothers we feel responsible that we can't fix everything, or take away our child's suffering. My Christmas wish for you and Lucy today is that you are surrounded by love, light and healing.
ReplyDeleteI am at a loss for words. I am an NICU nurse and though I have witnessed parents and extremely sick and dying babies in the hospital during the Christmas season,year after year, I can never truly KNOW what you are enduring.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like you are doing everything you can possibly can to mother that sweet baby of yours. Wishing you peace this Christmas day.
You are doing everything you can and you are a great mum. Sending good wishes,for your family <3
ReplyDeleteAs a special needs mom, all I can offer is my thoughts and prayers and assurance that you are NOT alone. You're a wonderful mom, I am positive. "Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can." ~ Arthur Ashe
ReplyDeleteYou are doing enough! You are not alone! praying for you!
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ReplyDeleteYou are doing all that you can do. Lucy knows you are there for her even though she won't be able to tell you or remember these days. You are giving her all that you have to give. Allow yourself to griev what you need to grieve (though you have done nothing wrong) and allow yourself to enjoy the moments that you can. Lucy can sense you are there for her and are a loving presence. Wishing you peace, acceptance and comfort, but most of all love.
ReplyDeleteThnking of you, remembering those moments when I had to leave the room when the crying broke my heart...crying tears of recognition and sadness that you and Lucy are in this pain together. Your photo is so touching and I know that look on your face...I wish you comfort and peace.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry that you and your family are going thru all of this. I am tearing up as I think of my cozy Christmas and compare it with yours. I am so sorry that your little one has to endure so much. May 2013 bring you more happiness and far less pain.
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