"You get what you pay for, but I just had no intention of living this way." -Counting Crows

Why We're Here...

My husband David and I delivered a stillborn Baby Boy that we loved, and wanted. Our first and only son, Logan, had Down Syndrome. Our daughter's smile is a little light in the darkness. She turned one year old three days after our sweet Logan tip-toed away on January 24, 2009. After 2 1/2 years we found out we were having another baby, whom we affectionatly called Rudy. Just shy of 6 weeks we found out Rudy was Ectopic. Rudy was surgically removed on May 26, 2011 delivering another blow to our already broken hearts.

What if it WAS my fault?

Ok, so last night I'm emailing a friend of mine who is unlucky enough to be in "the club". And it dawns on me that my husband being in the situation he is in now (being a dead-baby-daddy, thank you KUKD) might actually be (gasp!!) my fault! Now, I know all you other mummy's wearing the worlds ugliest shoes are quickly shaking your heads because we all know that it's never any ones fault. Stay with me for a sec... If my sweet man was content with our first child, who was for all intents and purposes perfect (she is, trust me!) and I perhaps talked him into having a second child... because horror of all horrors I couldn't let my daughter grow up to be an only child... it would mean that this really is my fault. Because had we stopped with one child, being that she is perfect and all, we would have never felt the pain of the child loss that we feel now. Right? Back then my husbands reasoning for not having more children was because he didn't want to temp fate, press his luck, play the odds... We had one perfect child...let's not tempt fate. But who thinks like that? At least, who thinks like that before they endure the death of a baby? So, I'm sure I gave him the whole speech about not wanting to raise an only child (I'm biased, I grew up in a gaggle of kids) and how I'm only 31 years old, and seriously what are the odds (apparently 1/900...pretty good if you ask me!). And so, we didn't "prevent" a second child. And apparently when we don't prevent... Anyhow. He assures me I didn't talk him into having a second child. He assures me that he too wanted to have another baby. He assures me that his being in this position (wearing the worlds ugliest shoes) is by no means my fault. He has to say that. He loves me. He probably thinks I'd off myself. But here's the thing, and I can't quit obsessing about it. What if I did? What if I did talk him into having Logan? At this point it doesn't matter. It's done. There's no changing it now. But I can't help but think that him being in this position was my fault. I mean after all, it was my stupid egg that couldn't do it's job right! If he'd have procreated with someone else... Oh man, that's a whole different rabbit hole. And now, I want to have another baby. Preferably a healthy baby. One that gets to live and come home. But, what if this time I really do talk him into another baby? And what if this time the baby does live... And what if this time the baby has Down Syndrome (because now the odds are 1/100!!)? Then it would be my fault, and no one could say otherwise.

Why is it that we all live in such fear? Why is it fair to have that burden now too? We fear so much...what if I get pregnant? What if I can't? What if he doesn't want to? What if I don't want to? What if the baby dies? What if the baby's sick? What if it was my fault?

What if?


Melissa Palma said...

I also begged for years to have a third child. Our children are 11 and 8 already! Hubby finally goes along with it and tbis is what we get? How unfair! I had to beg for this child I will never meet :(

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