Guilt, Failures, and (eventually) Forgiveness

It’s been over 10 months, and I have to admit, I thought I would be working towards a better place by now. In some ways, I am. But in other ways, the guilt and feelings of failure are still pretty strong – it doesn’t take much to bring them back in full force.

I still to this day, and probably will to some extent for the rest of my life, feel guilt for the things I could/would/should have done. I still feel deep in my heart that I could have stopped it, that there is something I could have done or said to the doctors to stop the labor so she could stay inside and develop more. I still kick myself for what I didn’t know – about symptoms I should have recognized and questions I should have asked. It was my job to protect her, and I failed.

In failing Vivienne, I failed so many people, including my family and friends. My counselor would stop me right now to tell me to remind myself that my body failed them, not me. But, my body is mine, and even though I can’t completely control it, I am ultimately responsible for it. When my body succeeds in doing something great (like my 3 day walks), I take credit for that. When it fails, I take ownership of that too.

Let’s face it, having a baby is a miracle that most people consider to be easy. The majority of the population doesn’t have difficulty getting pregnant (I do), the majority of the population doesn’t have any difficulty carrying a pregnancy (I do), and the majority of the population has trauma free deliveries (not me). It’s a difficult position to be in to struggle with something that goes so easily for others. When you fail at multiple things that other people consider to be easy, the self esteem takes a beating. It’s a constant battle not to think of myself as a failure.

I think part of it is evolution. Women are designed for this purpose – to carry and produce offspring. Whether you want children or not, it is a big part of how we are defined, by scientists and by society. To fail at something that is so fundamental to your being, that is ingrained into your DNA and how your body is designed, is unlike any failure I’ve ever known. It is harder than I can say to try and pick yourself back up from that level of failure.

I try to not let these feelings of guilt and failure eat away at me. But there are times when those feelings are stronger than any logic to counter them. And I know I will wrestle with those feelings for the rest of my life. I’ve heard people mention needing to forgive ourselves for the things we think we did wrong or the failures we’ve had.  I’m trying. I’m hopeful that with more time, I’ll find that place of forgiveness. That I’ll be able to forgive myself for what I didn’t know and didn’t do. That I’ll be able to forgive myself for failing Vivienne and my family so horribly. That the feelings of knowing I did everything I knew to do will outweigh the guilt of not having done enough.

It’s hard to find that kind of forgiveness for myself. If someone did something of this magnitude to me, I wouldn’t want to let them off the hook easily. Forgiving myself is another part of losing a child that may take a lifetime to accomplish.