Friday 14 May 2010

What if?

I couldn't sleep last night.

I had exceeded my usual alcohol limit of one drink. I had drunk a whole two and a half glasses of wine (TWO AND A HALF I hear you gasp!) which must have upset my sleep as I had some pretty strange dreams. Jessica woke up at 4am and started to cry. I stumbled into her room and dragged her back to our bed, where I lay in a strange, possibly still semi-drunken, contemplative state*. My husband's breathing and occasional snoring, Jessica's incomprehensible mutterings and slurping on her drink, the quiet murmuring of the BBC World Service all blended into one.

I was thinking about questions, the questions that I usually sit up and ask myself in the wee small hours of the morning. I've always been one to toss and turn in the early morning, grappling with things that seem to grow bigger, hairier, fiercer and toothier between the hours of 3 and 5 am . Even feeble, insignificant things stalk across my mental landscape like giants at that particular time of day. Even more so since the early birth of my daughters and Georgina's death.

I had puzzled and puzzled over the latest community poem at Still Life 365. Because I have asked myself so many questions since August 2008 and I was sure I must have hit upon a perfectly apposite one liner. But, as usual, I took far too long to think about it and ended up submitting nothing.

I've been reading a number of amazing posts for Project IF which I am slowly making my way through. So many of them catch at my heart and leave me struggling for breath.

So I lay in bed, waiting for Jessica to drop off so I could pop her back in her cot, thinking about questions in a fairly incoherent way. The questions I have asked myself so many, many times since I became a mother far sooner than I had anticipated. And, as my eyelids drooped, they started to drift into my brain in a strange 'reversal' of their usual format.

What if my pride and happiness during my pregnancy were understandable, not something I have to hate myself for, not something to feel foolish about?
What if this would have happened no matter how humble, or how boastful, I was?
What if my day 21 blood test shows that I am ovulating normally?
What if I am not such a terrible person really?
What if there is no payback for being a terrible person anyhow?
What if there is no giant bean counter in the sky holding things against me?
What if life is random, cruel and doesn't make any sense?
What if I didn't cause this?
What if I didn't feel guilty for somehow letting this happen?
What if losing her twin sister doesn't ruin Jessica's life?
What if it is a sad beginning but still, only a beginning?
What if Jessica doesn't hate me for losing her sister?
What if Jessica is going to catch up and be just fine in the end?
What if we never have an argument where Jessica screams at me that perhaps I wish Georgina had lived instead?
What if it wasn't weakness that made me fall apart so comprehensively after she died?
What if there are only a finite number of ways to react to these particular circumstances and that simply happened to be the way that I reacted?
What if devastation is, in fact, an entirely appropriate response?
What if it was nothing to do with hair dye, caffeine, drinking too much alcohol beforehand or not enough water afterwards?
What if it was entirely unpreventable?
What if I could never have known that she was so ill?
What if I did everything that I possibly could to help her?
What if, no matter how many branches and forks I add to the paths that I took and no matter which combination of choices I make, she still dies?
What if there is no need to reproach myself for feeling happy?
What if there is no need to reproach myself for feeling sad?
What if there is no need to feel as though I am falling behind?
What if I made the right decision to carry on with her medical treatment whilst there was still a chance?
What if I made the right decision to stop her medical treatment when there was no longer a chance?
What if she didn't feel horrendous pain, just the fever dream of her short life and the presence of those who loved her?
What if her brain was too immature to experience anything as I might imagine it, anything that I can ever hope to understand?
What if she knew me at the end?
What if I knew her?

I hope so. Somehow, even allowing for that possibility made me feel happy. That I just might have known Georgina and that she just might have known me. For that brief span of days.
Strange that it has taken me nearly two years to think of these questions in a different light.
Perhaps I should drink more wine.

* I feel I should say that Jessica has slept in our bed fairly frequently ever since she was born. I needed to hold her so much initially that I found it incredibly difficult to let go of her so I used to sit in bed with her, oxygen and all, for hours as she slept. I generally managed to sneak her back into the moses basket before I drifted off but my plan was not 100% foolproof. I acknowledge that is incredibly irresponsible of me and obviously when she was younger, I was not drinking the mahoosive amounts of wine that I did last night. Nary a drop as I was still breastfeeding at the time.

I am unable to let Jessica cry at night. I will always go and see her and usually end up bringing her back to our bed to soothe her and then, later, take her back to her cot. Yes. Rod. For. Own. Back. I've heard it all before. But I simply can't bear to hear her cry.

Not sensible but my husband and I muddle along as best we can and we love her. Apologies if I've upset anyone.

22 comments:

  1. I love your wonderful what ifs.

    My husband and I have both decided that we will spoil this baby - hopefully in a good way, but spoil her all the same. I can't see how you could resist cuddles with Jessica, or the opportunity to cuddle her to sleep.

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  2. Those seem like pretty effing great questions. xx

    (And I don't buy the rod for your own back stuff. You're happy, she's happy, sounds good to me)

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  3. I love the way you've turned your ifs around.
    I especially love the last two and hope they are true.

    As for bringing Jessica into your bed, I slept with Kathleen often until she started just crawling around the bed and wouldn't settle. And I used to nap with Henry on the couch (him on my chest) oxygen and all--some of my favorite memories with him.

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  4. Great set of questions there. Best I go off and ponder those myself.....
    And for what it's worth, I can't let Angus cry either. There will be no controlled crying in this house, no sir. Just. Can't. Do. It.
    Seems we both have rods for our own backs, but whatever. He slept in bed with us this morning and we all slept and neither of the adults had to get up to a crying baby who just wants to be near us, so that's a good result for us.
    xo

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  5. I love your list of What Ifs - if wine helped create it, then hurray for wine!

    I can't let Dot cry at night either, and she spends quite a bit of time in our bed, too. And, you know, what after iris said. If it's working and you're both happy, good for you.

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  6. I know what you mean about not being able to let them cry. I couldn't stand to hear Caelan cry after Jordan died. I had to comfort because I could.

    Not so bothered by Jasper's cries. I still go to him but they don't hurt me and I don't hurry (depends on what kind of cry it is). I suspect it's because he has such a strong set of lungs... When I hear it, I hear strength and vibrance. It is so different to what her cry was like and I guess on some level I take comfort in that if it makes any sense at all.

    I couldn't care less if you slept with Jessica in your arms. I'm glad you had that time together. Anyone that would judge you for it is a moron. As much as you NEEDED to hold her, I bet SHE needed to be held. She was grieving too. xxoo

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  7. Beautifully written, no judgement here. I grew up sleeping in my parent's beds, the most wonderful memories ever.

    I am pretty sure Georgina knew you. In my head there's no other way around it. If our babies didn't know their moms, who else would they know?

    You are a great mom. What if you never forget this? ;)

    Sending big loves! xoxo

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  8. Those last four questions really resonate with me. I'm past all of the "how could I have prevented this?" and I've moved on to wondering what Rosemary experienced during her short life.

    I wouldn't worry over much about the co-sleeping (accidental or otherwise). I'm also an accidental co-sleeper and I think that the benefits outweigh the risks. As one of my co-workers put it, why would you take the most vulnerable member of the family and put her down the hall by herself?

    Try to get some sleep tonight.

    T

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  9. I need to try out some of those what ifs on myself.
    And yeah, nothing wrong with co sleeping. We do it here and I wouldn't have it any other way.
    And I have a friend who never knew her twin, she loves her Mum and is a great wonderful woman, and Mummy herself now, just like Jessica will be. x

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  10. I have asked myself many of these same questions. As for the last one, I like to think that I do know my girls and they know me. It is comforting to think that and I believe it for you and Georgina too. And if you need Jessica to sleep with you when she is in despair, there is nothing wrong with that (in my opinion!!) xx

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  11. Muddling along and loving your child sounds just about perfect parenting to me. It's how it is here too.

    Those are powerful questions, Catherine. It's amazing how turning the question on its head can open up a whole new perspective.

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  12. Oh my dear. Muddling along is normal, for all of us, deadbabies or no. It's just tinged (singed? burned? burdened?) with so much more for those of us who have lost.

    I'd tell you you are doing fine, but we both know it's a lot. Not because you're a bad mum, not at all, but because Georgina isn't here. And there is nothing fine about that.

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  13. Oh sweetie. . You arent a bad person, and Jess wont hate you. She'll mourn with you and know that their love is eternal. You are sweet. So sweet... I know the questions wont end for any of us, but you are doing a great job. Know that. Even when the questions are hard.

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  14. I wish i knew how to make those early hours less horrible; i do that too, although thankfully since my son died a month ago, i have been a bizarrely deep sleeper, albeit a dream laden one.

    However, my 4 living children have taught me many things and one of them is that without doubt my only poor sleeping child, the only one to have been difficult to finally evict from our bed, was the one we tried not to co-sleep with. Our ifrst. The other 3 sleep well andm oved out just fine. Go with it. Children are not meant to cry. That is why it sounds horrid.

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  15. The ifs of the night are the most difficult I've found.
    And Colby has never cried himself to sleep or put himself to sleep or been left to settle back in the middle of the night... I can comfort him, so why not? (He spent the AM with us today and did just fine.) If it means I get less sleep then so be it.

    Jessica and Georgina are both so very lucky to have you. Please don't forget that. xo

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  16. Catherine, your last questions especially cut me to the quick. I hope that happiness will stay with you.

    Oh, and by the way, I too held my daughter while she slept. I didn't even try to put her down anywhere other than the crook of my arm or my chest until she was 6 months old -- an arbitrary, self-imposed deadline.

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  17. Never any apologies! Well said- I wrote a blog about 'What Ifs'- so true- so well said!
    Thinking of you friend!
    Hugs-
    L

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  18. You're onto something with your what'ifs. I'm glad you're shifting your paradigm a bit...or at least thinking about it.

    And read the wonderful Dr. Sears anytime you're feeling self conscious about bringing Jessica in bed with you. He'll make you feel better. I've always loved the idea of attachment parenting and practiced it as much as I could. My parents guffawed but whatever.

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  19. I too, have the NEED to be next to my living child. He never slept in our bed, until a few months ago whene he was sick. And now, like clockwork, he's up and calling for "mummydaddys bed" every night. And I let him. I think DH likes having him nearby as much as I do. We'll deal with it when we're ready. And so will you. Until then, enjoy your lovely little girl, and take all the comfort in her you can. You deserve that, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, no matter how many letters they have after their name.
    You are a wnderful mother!

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  20. Wine has a wonderful way of opening up your soul!!!

    Catherine, I totally get your list but I just want to say this... you are wonderful Mother, and I have no doubt that both Jessica and Georgina know this and will always know it.

    Lots of love to you! xoxo

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  21. they are good questions. it's important to turn it around from time to time. you are not a bad person, and you did and do everything you can for your daughters.

    and you don't need to defend your choices. you've stared into the void. you get a free pass. anyone who thinks otherwise can, ahem, go screw 'emselves.

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  22. Babies aren't spoiled by too much love. If that works for you, then I see no reason not to love on your little girl!

    I can't stand letting my boys cry, either. It resulted in a lot of sleepless nights, but I think they are closer to me because of it and they know that I'll always be there for them, no matter what.

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