Self Protection and Motherhood

Well I hope that I don’t fall in love with you
Cause fallin’ in love just makes me blue….

I began my third pregnancy with a marked sense of detachment. I thought I was doing myself a favor. I think it was inevitable that both my husband and I said “well, we’ll see.” Two losses are more than enough to acquaint you with the fact that things can, and do, go completely, unfixably wrong. So, our plans for our third darling were always prefixed by “If we get to keep this baby…”

And it turns out, we didn’t get to keep him. He would never have lived, no matter what. And, as I’ve written before, I am grateful that he died painlessly and gently. I’m even grateful, God help me, that he died at 6 weeks and I didn’t have more time to fall in love with him. That sounds horribly selfish, and it is. Because I fell in love with him, no matter what. No matter how many times I said “Well, we’ll see”, my heart didn’t listen.

My brain was busy with caveats and maybes, and my heart was just lost in love.

What a stupid, wonderful thing it is to have a heart.

I regret holding myself back from loving my third darling. I was trying to protect my heart but how can I protect my heart from itself? He was my heart from the moment I saw those two pink lines, and it was ridiculous to try not to love him.

I don’t think parents get to protect their hearts like that. I think that parents spend their lives as fools, pouring themselves into their children and loving and hurting and being overjoyed and crushed and anxious and proud and heartbroken, all simultaneously.

How overwhelming and wonderful and terrifying.

I love you, my sweet boy. I’m so sad that you’re gone. I’m glad you didn’t suffer, but I will suffer until I see you again. You and your brother and sister are the best and most important things I have ever done, and the best parts of me died with you. I adore you, my sweet boy. Mama loves you so, baby.

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