Despicable Me

Yet another reference to kiddo TV.  But, it is how I how felt over these last few months. Now that my boys are home I don't have any time to do anything except be a mommy to all 4 of my wonderful, beautiful, yet energy-draining children:)  But, that wasn't always the truth.  When the boys were in the hospital I had a lot of time to just sit.  Sit and watch babies sleep and grow.  Sitting wasn't good for me. I needed to be busy. Because when I was sitting I was thinking, thinking about this whole situation.  Thinking about the bad, the good, the crazy and the wonderful.  Trust me when I say that this situation has not be only bad or horrible or sad.  We were very lucky, very blessed.  And it makes me feel horrible to even have emotions other than happiness when I would see parents and kids going through so much worse every day I was at Childrens.

But, in the dark, hidden places in my brain and heart I feel guilt.  I feel responsible.  I feel horrible.  I take my job as a mommy very seriously. Some of you may know that Joe and I have had to use fertility help to have each and every child we have been blessed with.  So, they were all conscious decisions.  And from the moment we decided to be pregnant I was in mommy mode.  And the first all-important job of a mommy (in my mind anyways) is to provide my babies with a great nine months of being in my belly.  And I failed my precious boys in the very first job as a mommy to them.  There I said it. I failed as their mommy.  And because of my failure they had to endure so, so, so much.  And there was nothing I could do.  I couldn't stop it, I couldn't help them.  And they had to go through it so they could survive and get a chance at life.  Because I couldn't bake my bundles of joy long enough they had to go through intubation, IV insertions, lab sticks, tubes down their noses, down their mouths.  They had to be handled by hundreds of random strangers.  They went to bed in a strange place without their family by their side. So, my thoughts went like this..."If only I had kept them in me longer they wouldn't have to go through NG tubes.  If only they wouldn't have to have random strangers calm them down. If only they could be sleeping at home." 

The fact is that I couldn't have stayed pregnant any longer.  Not if I wanted to be here right now, able-bodied and somewhat healthy.  Because the truth is I was closer to death then I care to admit.  I was closer to doing permanent damage to my body that could have been life-altering.  I get that, I get it more and more as time elapses.  To give my babies their mommy I had to give up my control over life-mine and theirs.  I know this, but I don't like it.  And my brain understands that I shouldn't have guilt, that I did everything I possibly could to keep them healthy for as long as I could.  My heart, well she's a different story. I don't think that there is anything, ever that will make it change how she feels.  As time passes and the boys, God-willing, continue to grow and prosper, the guilt will get less, won't be so prevalent.  But, it will always be there.  And it will sneak up on me at random moments.  Like today when my lil men had to have two nurses come out the the house and give them the first of five shots to prevent RSV this winter.  Something we have to do, something that I would never even consider not doing, but something that is only being done because they were born so damn early.  And there is that guilt again.