Walking With You 2013: Overcoming Guilt and Embracing Joy

Okay, I am really behind on the Walking With You series.  I'm sorry I have not kept up, but here goes.  Week 4 focused on "Overcoming Guilt and Embracing Joy."

"One area so many mothers struggle with is guilt, especially those who experience the loss of a baby/child. We want to address this struggle in this post. It will help mothers quietly battling guilt for living life and experiencing joy to know they are not alone. Other moms silently battle this as well. Whether it is the startling first time you really laugh after losing your child, or whether you have experienced the healing balm of joy for years, share your thoughts on this week’s post."

When it comes to Elena, I have definitely struggled with feelings of guilt and still do.  After all, I am her mother.  It was my responsibility, my job, to protect her, to keep her safe.  And I didn't do that for her.  My body failed her...failed her miserably.  She was perfect, and I couldn't even give her a chance at life.  Intellectually, I know that it is not my fault.  I know that I would have done anything within my power to save her, but it's still so hard not to blame myself.  I think of other baby loss mothers, and never for a millisecond do I think they deserve an ounce of blame, and I know that I do not either.  Making myself believe what I know is a different story altogether, though.

In the very early days after Elena died, the guilt was particularly intense.  I shouldn't have gone shopping and walking around the store for so long searching for a gift, I should have called my OB again sooner, I should have insisted that something was not right, I should have pushed for a cerclage from the very beginning, I should not have taken that shower in the hospital, I should have stayed lying flat, the list goes on and on.  I even struggled with guilt over the way I prayed (see my Clinging in the Pit post).  What if I hadn't carried my sleeping toddler to the car that day?  Was God punishing me for something I had done?  My wonderful husband stopped me in my tracks right there.  "You know God doesn't work that way," he told me lovingly yet firmly.  And even then I knew he was right.  I do not believe that God takes our babies because we screwed up.  I think it is just our human nature to grasp at anything to try to make sense of something that just doesn't make sense.  And the fact that babies die just doesn't make sense, at least not this side of heaven.  We also want to believe that we have much more control over our lives than we actually have.  I sometimes still fall into that line of thinking, that if I had just done something different I could have saved Elena.  And I have to remind myself that I don't blame other baby loss moms for their babies' deaths, and I don't need to blame myself either.  I loved Elena, still love her, with all of my heart, and I did the best I could with the information and abilities that I had at the time, and that is all I could have done.

After the guilt that Elena's death was somehow my fault came the guilt that I could continue to live after my baby had died.  And then the guilt that I could actually smile, laugh, find a little enjoyment here and there.  I really struggled with a vacation we had planned.  We had been planning for months to join three other families for a week at Disney World that happened to coincide with my toddler's second birthday.  I was really looking forward to going.  Then I started having complications and my doctor advised me not to go, so we changed our plans to stay home.  Then Elena was born and died just weeks before the vacation.  We wrestled with what to do about the trip.  I hated the thought that the only reason we could go was because Elena had died; however, we finally decided at the last minute to take the trip, largely because I wanted my son's birthday to be special and I was not up for planning and hosting a party for him at home.  I had immense feelings of guilt over that decision.  How could I even entertain the idea of going to "the happiest place on earth" when I was (and should have been) miserable and mourning.  I enjoyed it (I also had lots of sad moments, cried every time I saw a pregnant woman, and sobbed myself to sleep each night, but there were moments of real happiness there).  It's taken me a long time to admit to taking that trip because of my guilt over it.  But I realize that feeling happy does not mean that I don't love Elena any more than feeling sad does not mean that I don't love my living children.  Of course I love them all - I love them all always, through all of my emotions.

The early feelings of happiness, the first smiles and laughter, were often followed immediately by guilt and breakdowns.  I'm not sure when those tears and that incredible guilt over having joy subsided.  It was a very gradual and tender transition.  I think many things helped me to finally let go of that guilt (for the most part, anyway, it still pops up its ugly head from time to time).  I had to force myself to listen to my logical reasoning when my heart was not on board.  I had to trust that what I knew in my brain held value, that there was no logical reason to be blame myself for feelings of happiness, that my range of emotions were not an indication of my love for my daughter.  I also looked at others who had lost children, who loved those babies so very much, and who still smiled, laughed, seemed happy despite the awful hand they had been dealt.  They were not monsters.  I did not blame them or think any less of them for their joy.  So logically that meant that being happy did not make me a monster either, and maybe, just maybe, no one would think less of me either.  I saw that others could love their babies and think of them everyday and still be happy.  It was okay for me to do that too.  I made a conscious effort to choose to focus on the positive memories, to remember the moments of joy during my pregnancy, the tender moments we were allowed upon her birth.  Feeling happy about ever having had the opportunity to be Elena's mother, knowing what a beautiful blessing she is and experiencing joy over her was a good start to being okay with feeling happy.  And knowing that our separation is only temporary allows me to rejoice.  "Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.  We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him."  (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14)