Regrets. I haz them.

May 17, 2011 at 1:56 pm | Posted in Heartbreak | 13 Comments

This weekend, J and I started gathering stuff for a yard sale we’re hosting.

Usually I LOVE to purge.

And this was no exception. I went through our volumes of books and found 5 full BOXES of stuff that can be sold/donated, mostly old mysteries and chick lit that I’ve managed to collect over the years.

As I was going through the bookcase, though, I found some pictures and O’s baby album, which I had updated through July 2008.

(Yes, let’s not talk about how it’s nearly THREE YEARS LATER and I don’t have any more pictures printed, mmkay? I’m feeling guilty enough.)

And of course I went through the pictures. I had to.

And because I felt guilty, I decided to start putting together pictures I want to print out of the rest of 2008. And I gathered a folder of favorites from 2008 and 2009.

I had forgotten SO MUCH.

I had forgotten how little he was. How sleepy those first few weeks.

I had forgotten about the little Gap romper my sister had gotten him; the one he wore in his 4 month picture.

I had forgotten about how MUCH he used his bink way back when, how much he drooled and crawled and pulled up.

I had forgotten how clean and fluffy Bear used to be.

The hardest thing for me, right now, is the realization.

These pictures are likely the only ones I’ll ever have of an infant. My first pregnancy was also my last.

With that realization comes a whole host of regrets.

I regret not cherishing my pregnancy with O because I was so goddamn afraid he was going to die. The whole time.

I regret those first few days in the hospital, panicking about feedings because why wasn’t he just eating? Don’t babies need to eat?

I regret spending most of his first year freaked out about a sniffle or why he wouldn’t sleep or was he eating the right things and should I be doing more to make sure he sleeps better?

Hindsight is always 20/20, I know. And I can’t go back and CHANGE the way I reacted to being pregnant (i.e. Abject Fear) or having a newborn (i.e. Totally Overwhelmed).

I was that person then, and this is me, now.

I just hoped that I’d get a chance to do the pregnancy/newborn again with ME, as I am now.

That’s what I’m grieving today.



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  1. So bittersweet. I am abiding with you as you grieve today. Just remember, we make the best decisions we can with the information we have at the time. It is easy to beat ourselves up with the “what ifs.” Hang in there. (((HUGS)))

  2. Reading these words made me tear up. I so understand what you are feeling.

  3. And yet, even if you had a second chance, as I was lucky enough to have, you may have found yourself differently preoccupied … I know I was. It’s hard to see into that crystal ball.


  4. I can totally relate to these feelings. I’m pretty sure we’re not going to try again because the thought of another dangerous pregnancy terrifies us, and I’m trying to come to terms with this same thing. Sending big, big love.

  5. I completely and totally get it and stand with you, shoulder to shoulder. It is tough, these realizations, no two ways about it.

  6. You did the best you could back then, given the circumstances under which you experienced pregnancy and parenthood (i.e. after years of IF.) And I think you did a great job. I’m sorry things didn’t turn out differently this time.

  7. Oh Serenity. I realate with your feeling in so many levels. HUGS

  8. I’m sorry. And you know, I was no less scared even though I wanted to be, the second time….it went more poorly and then all the “I can remain positive!” hopes were dashed. It’s ok to be scared through a pregnancy…in the end it doesn’t change what matters, kwim?

    I am sorry, though, that you don’t get the chance to find out.

  9. I wish I could just hug you,…tell you I understand. Mostly because I do. I get it, I was scared being pregnant and I didn’t enjoy any of it.

    I am just sorry that you’re having regrets now…it’s so hard isn’t it? To wish for something knowing it’s not the best thing.

  10. I can relate. I feel like I missed most of the first year of the girls’ life because of PPD. And their 1st birthday party — God, I was such a b*tch that weekend! The girls say they love me, so I know I didn’t do any lasting harm. Similarly, O. is a terrific, affectionate little boy. So you did all right, too. But I wish I could have done things differently. I try to not take that regret too far because I did the best I could, given the circumstances.

    I still get upset when I think about what a frightening experience L&D was and that I didn’t get to see or touch the girls for 25 hours. (Technically I did see each, for about a quarter of a second, as I passed in and out of consciousness on the operating table.) I really have to fight jealousy (and guilt) when I see pictures of women holding their babies moments after delivery. I know I’m fortunate in that I actually got to HAVE these children. But I won’t ever have that special moment.

    I’m sorry you won’t have it again, either. ((HUGS))

  11. It definitely seems to be a process in working through all of this stuff…all the things you hadn’t really known how they would make you feel even though you prepared yourself for this possibility. I’m sorry it’s turned out this way and that you have to think about these things. I think of you a lot, and I hate that it turned out like this. I just hate it.


  12. You are not the only one that missed much of your first pregnancy due to fear or other issues clouding your mind…nor are you the only one that hasn’t kept the baby book updated…I’m sorely lacking on that part.

    But, this loss of not getting to do it a second time, where you know better, is a great loss and my heart aches just thinking about it. Just because these experiences happened once and you never will get the opportunity to perfect or relive them, doesn’t take away the poignancy of the experiences you did have. You will hold them that much closer because of it.

  13. I’m so sorry that you have to feel this way. I wish that you didn’t have to feel regret. Sending big hugs and tequila your way 🙂

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