Guilt & Regret.

...  Yup.  That says it all.   ... There have been a few things I want to "say" on this blog.  But I haven't really gotten that "right moment" to do it.  And then when I do get on here, I often feel like I should write something about how I am doing.

And then I think that how I am doing is a pretty boring and redundant topic.  And I don't always feel like getting into a lot of detail either.  But then, I keep saying that I want to be transparent.  And being transparent doesn't just mean only saying things that are real and true.  It also means not deliberately leaving out some of the information...

I am doing ok, as I keep saying.  I AM sleeping well.  I am able to get out of bed in the morning, and I don't even have a huge struggle with that.  Two things that to me seem pretty indicative of doing ok.  I also do take somewhat regular showers, and most days I get out of my jammies. 

All these "signs" are good for me, because the last thing I need is to stress about "barely coping" with life.  And I feel peaceful about it.  I'm trusting God to get us through, and He is.  I don't think I'm going to need medication.  Surprise.  And I don't think I'm going to go to counselling.  Because I think the support of my friends and family and the listening ears there will be enough for me.  But we will see.  I'm not going to rule anything out at this point.

Having said all that, I will admit that as most of us do, I have been struggling with guilt and regret.  It really is a normal part of grief.  I know that.  And it is a pretty average reaction of mothers to just about any negative circumstance in the life of their child.  Terminal illness and death being under the category of "negative circumstance," I guess what could I expect?

While Joel was alive, I tried to live so that I'd have limited regrets.  Always acknowledging to myself that I would not be able to completely prevent them.  And I couldn't.

I work them through, when they attack me.  I go over the little and big "guilts" that I have.  Some of them are silly.  I don't know if it is exactly guilt, but I feel absolutely HORRIBLE about the two times I was holding Joel and one of his bones "buckled."  How I could have seen it coming and stopped it...?  I'm not sure.  But I grieve these moments.

And some of the moments I have to forgive myself for.  No mom is perfect.  Impossible.  And when your child is healthy and grows up to be a happy adult, you forgive and forget the mistakes.  The times you were impatient or selfish fade away.  But when the child involved dies, it makes these sins monumental events...  Strange, isn't, how grief is.  Live or die, your behavior was the same.  But live or die, makes a big difference on how hard or easy it is for you to forgive and forget.

Which brings me to the regrets.  Closely related to the guilt.  But not exactly.  One thing I have been struggling with is two weeks of Joel's three week hospital stay in the fall.  The two weeks where he was kept in because they had begun treating him for meningitis and thus had to finish it.  Even at the time, my emotions about this were difficult.  But life was going on, and now some of those emotions remain, still in the file, waiting to be dealt with.  And Joel's death makes it worse.  I'm remembering being stuck on IV antibiotics and then put in isolation so we could not leave our little cubicle.  And Joel was alert, aware and even sometimes playful during those two weeks.

So, if only.  If only I had insisted it was adrenal and not allowed them to treat for meningitis.  If only I had stayed in hospital for the evenings and nights, so that Joel didn't have to be alone there.  Now I hate the thought of him lying there in the lonely evenings.  As I always did.  But I loved him during the day and then went home to "survive."

Most of these regrets are tied to a ridiculous feeling or attitude.  These regrets about how much I held Joel or played with him or whatever.  When I really examine them.  Because I really want to hold Joel NOW.  I really want to play with him NOW.  But I can not.  So the mind goes to the times when I COULD hold him.  And then finds any time I could have but DIDN'T.  As if I could have somehow "stored up" more holding him.  As if by holding him for 8 hours a day instead of 4 hours a day, then today, THIS day, I wouldn't miss him as much.  It's all rubbish!  Then was then, and now is now.  If I had held him 16 hours a day, I'd still be sitting here now, missing him so and wishing I had held him 18 hours...

It really is just the mind trying to "fix" the missing in my heart.  Trying to come up with a solution to the feelings.  Like we humans do.  What went wrong, so that next time we can do it different?  It's a useful reaction when you have broken your arm and are reviewing workplace safety.  It's not really productive in the instances where things beyond your control happened.  Or when you'll never get that "second chance to do it different." 

And so now, it is a waste of effort and energy.  And also a part of grieving.  Because the missing will come.  And with the missing, the earnest wish to turn back the clock.  And change something, anything to somehow make yourself feel better.  But I know that I lived the last two years well enough that any changes I could make would be small, and pretty insignificant.  And would not, in the end, make this sadness any easier.  There would just be other moments I'd cry over instead.  I know that.  But I still have to work out these feelings...

Whew.  I don't know who is still reading this with me.  Not exactly "fun," eh?  So if you are still here with me, in this pit of sadness, then please climb out, go eat a sandwich and read a book or watch a sitcom.  Lighten up.  That is honestly what I do when my cup of sadness has overflowed for awhile.  I can do this.  And I DO do it.  Also a sign I'm doing ok.

But even more so, that I still take this sorrow and grief, and regret and guilt to God.  I feel it, I think it through to the TRUTH, and then I give it to Him.  Not much of a gift, really, eh?  But still.  I just say, "Here is how I am feeling Lord, and it's so hard and sad, but if You can make anything of this, You are welcome to have it."  And so, I find that while I might feel sad, regrets, pain, and guilt, I truly NEVER feel despair or hopelessness.  I never do.  I'm pretty sure that is God's doing.

Last of all, before I do my favorite thing and put up some pics, I'm just going to say, you don't need to bother writing to tell me what I good mom I was to Joel.  I wish that would do the trick.  But I'm afraid it doesn't do much...  unless you can come over and listen to me share each moment in person.  Because regrets are specific moments, not generalities.

 I DO appreciate your words of encouragement.  I DO appreciate hearing that you are praying for me.  And I ABSOLUTELY LOVE hearing how Joel's life touched yours or how something I have shared means something to you.  So please feel free to encourage me in this way.