Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Missing him...

I'm having a hard time tonight and I don't know where to turn so an anonymous blog it is. I miss my son. I miss him and everything that he represents. I think about what he would look like, and smell like. I wonder what he would be doing right now. I covet an ultrasound picture I took of him before I went to the clinic. I know, it was stupid, but I snuck an ultrasound picture of him before he died. I have a crystal clear picture of exactly what I did and exactly what he was. Not a piece of tissue, not something that didn't exist. He was my son and he is dead and I miss him. When I feel like this I have no where to go because except for you, dear readers, a very select group of friends ( only one of which have responded to my Hail Mary text tonight, fuck you very much to everyone else) and my soon to be ex-husband, no one knows he ever was. If a child dies in your womb and no one knows he exists, does he make a sound? I don't know but he is definitely missed. I know life would be infinitely worse with him here but what I wouldn't give to hold him just once. I had no say in his conception, its a story I refuse to tell, but I had NO say in it. But I alone made the decision to abort him, drove myself to the appointment, (after showing up early to work of course, no day off for me, before or after), and I'm pretty sure I'm the only person on earth who mourns his passing. And most days and nights I forget that he ever was. And then I have nights like tonight where it hurts to breathe. I cry and cry and cry and I don't know how to fill the emptiness inside. An emptiness I have felt from the moment I came off the Propofol drip and knew he was gone. A mother knows when her womb holds a life inside it, and conversely when it does not. Sometimes I just drink, until I pass out. Because I know tomorrow will be another day and I won't have time to think of him. That of course leaves me with tonight and I'm a wreck. My emotions are raw and I know I would make the same decision if two little pink lines popped up on that test instead of one, but it puts me in an awkward place doesn't it. How do you mourn the child you killed and would kill again without being a hypocrite? How are any of my emotions justified? And will writing this post again expose me to the hateful world of the pro-lifers, who will use this as a rational for outlawing abortion when the fact is my husband would have likely killed me had I stayed pregnant again. The last pregnancy pushed him over the edge of insanity and there's no telling where he would have gone with this one. I chose my life over my sons. This of course makes me a bad mother because in America, the definition of a good mom is one who chooses her child's life over her own. And I also chose my daughter's future over his. The living one over the unborn because I don't care what the religious right has to say: they are not the same, they are not equals. But I miss my son. His ten little toes, his tiny little fingernails. Whether he would have had brown eyes or blue. What gifts I would be picking out this Christmas for him. Maybe Thomas the Tank Engine. Who knows? That decision has already been made and it can not and should not be undone. But I miss my son tonight. And I know I will miss him a thousand other nights to come.

10 comments:

Elizabeth said...

Hi,
I read your post and just wanted to send you a cyber-hug.......I hope life is kinder to you next year than this last year has been.

shadowfax said...

HI there,

You've commented on my blog a couple of times and I wanted to let you know I've been reading yours. I simply cannot believe what you have endured over the recent time period; it's beyond what I can even imagine.

All I can say is that I wish you strength and support from friends and family in this time. And I hope you have a professional that you can talk to as well. You write about how days off and caring for yourself are not possible for residents. I have seen too many physicians self-destruct under the simple stress of residency -- descend into alcoholism, substance abuse, or suicide -- and that's even without the additional burdens you are bearing. I do not know where you are, but most hospitals and many states have programs geared towards physicians. I would call your employer's personnel office (or your residency coordinator, if you feel that you can trust them) and ask if they have an "Employee Assistance Program" or if your state has a "Physician Assistance Program." It sounds like you need it, and I am concerned for you.

Thank you for sharing your story; it is compelling and powerful, and you are an excellent writer. I too, grieve for your son, and for your pain. Good luck, and feel free to contact me off-line if I may ever be of assistance.

Irishdoc said...

I have me good days and bad and I understand that there is a fair amount of concern for me and my sanity. My blog serves as a critical pop off valve and is one of the only places I have to decompress. Believe i or not I am doing better than before. I've worked hard to develop friendships and have a safety net if the need arises. I'll make it Shadowfox, it won't be pretty, but I'll endure.

bittersweetgurl said...

My heart is breaking for you Irishdoc...I am a second-career (read OLD!) nurse in training as well as a woman who has had to make the same decision you did. Vent all you need to, and know that so many of us out here are sending you our love and support, though we will never meet. And yeah, fuck those pro-lifers - their delusional self-righteousness is sickening... do NOT accept their judgement or malicious words into your heart...just try to stay strong and get through each day until it slowly becomes less difficult...
sending you BIG LOVE...

Beach Bum said...

Sometimes, all you have in life is shitty choices. And the only way to choose is to choose the least shitty.

There is no such thing as "happily ever after" where noone is ever upset, fearful, or angry; or ever passes wind.

Life is raw, dangerous, and frequently full of heartbreak.

But there can be joy to be found in the middle of intense sorrow. One can smile through the tears; laugh even. My thoughts will be with you; that as you embrace your sorrow, you will find your joy as well.

RehabNurse said...

I cannot offer much solace to you, but I pray for you and your little girl that you both survive intact.

I can only imagine your grief for all that is happening.

I wish you peace, if for no other reason that I hope it gives you time to regroup to deal with every other crazy thing that will come your way.

Carol S. said...

I terminated two pregnancies while married to someone I did not love.

I didn't mourn those for years. It ate me up until I got self destructive. It took me awhile but when I did mourn and got some support it got better. It took time.

My prayers are with you, you made a difficult choice. It will get better. It just takes time and that is the hardest part.

FridaWrites said...

I'm sorry I missed this before. It's beautiful that you took the sonogram picture and have it with you. I think it's fine to give yourself permission to grieve and give in to whatever makes you feel better--one of my friends tells me it's more difficult when you try to push feelings aside and away, and it seems to me she's always been right. There is no judgment from me as I've experienced abuse. I just wish I could reach a hand across the miles.

You're going to be (are, I'm sure) a very sensitive mother and doctor because you'll have a lot of insight people with easier experiences have not.

Anonymous said...

You mourn your child just as if you carried him to term, and a mishap happened. I think all those who read this blog miss you son, and grieve your loss. He was beautifully created, and although he is no longer with the earth, your ability to share his existence is very powerful.

For assistance there are a number of churches and nonprofit organizations that offer abortion recovery program. I am sure you will never get over, this has changed you forever, and if you need assistance obtain it not just for yourself, not your daughter.

Anonymous said...

God bless you. your posst makes my heart cry. We all have to make incredibly hard decisions in life and have no right to judge others. I miscarried, thankfully, under similar circumstances and was judged for my happiness. I had guilt aver my happiness, but was just as sure that it was a good thing.I don't know if I would have been strong enough to make the same decision you did. I probably wouldn't have and would have bben tied forever to an evil, abusive man. I would never have had the blessing of meeting my wonderful husband and having the son I now have. My prayers are with you. Mourn your lost, innocent son and know that not only did you saveyour daughter and yourself, you also saved him from abuse, pain, and probably a short life that would have ended in a brutal murder. Anyone who judges you doesn't understand the cruelty off raising a child in abuse and torture. You are the brave one