Tears

My glasses feel like a really dirty windshield of a fast moving car at night; windshield washer fluid is empty. I try to turn on the wipers and wash away the mess, but it just smears it across my view, making things harder to see. Making it dangerous to move for fear I might make the wrong move; a wrong decision.

The only thing is my glasses are not a windshield. I wish they were. Instead they are just my glasses; some stupid materialistic piece of plastic and metal screws. Stupid glasses. They are attached to my face always, reminding me I am flawed. But I am still living. My flaw reflects into my own eyes the tears that never stop. They run down my face, making my skin feel tight as the path they make dry up. I cant stop crying. My wet eyelashes smear my tears across my lenses, as the light in my room magnifies the spots and blinds me. I am tired of cleaning them, tired of crying; just tired...

Today my appointment down at Abbott was okay I guess. Nothing changed of course. We did the transfer of care, and met with the Geneticist again. I was able to finally tell not only the geneticist, but also the doctor how upset I am about the whole "miscommunication" ordeal. Not only that, but also the MAJOR roadblock one Doctor was for us, telling us "no" to every request we made for another opinion, another ultrasound, more testing, more anything...

Hopefully the entire Allina Perinatal group of doctors will be getting together soon to discuss our case and re-evaluate themselves as doctors; they need to be more careful when diagnosing and leave their personal beliefs/opinions at the door before telling parents of bad news. Although their 'hunch-diagnosis' was correct... yes, my baby does has spina bifida, and yes my baby does have triploidy after final confirmation of an amnio; they were not only willing, but pressuring me and making my decision for me that termination was the only option. They made this decision for me BEFORE I even did the amnio. So, in other words, they were willing to terminate a life on a 'hunch'.

I wonder how many other women out there have terminated their pregnancy because they felt they HAD to; they felt there was no other option. There are options. I now know that.

I am still Pro-Life, but I understand better now for choices. I understand, in certain circumstances, whether a diagnosis or a 'pressured decision' from a doctor could lead to termination. I cannot judge without knowing the whole story, all the facts, risks, pros/cons, what have you, about they 'why'. I cannot judge.... ever.... I am so heartbroken for those who have or have not terminated after receiving news that their precious baby will not live. I cry for them, for their babies.... I cry for myself... I cry for my Baby Elijah...

Last night my husband showed me a website. http://www.projectcuddle.org/. I can not believe people actually throw away babies. It made me angry, very angry. I cried. I am happy to know that there is an organization out there trying to stop it from happening from the beginning. I wish I could save ALL the babies in the entire world from any kind of pain or suffering. When I was younger, I would try to save anything that was alive. I cried when my cactus died and I had to throw it in the garbage. I stayed up all night feeding milk-substitute from an eyedropper to a kitten that was only a few hours old; I saved it from two dogs that stole it form its mother and were using it as a frisbee. I knew I wouldn't be able to sustain life, so I brought it to a shelter. Once I knew they would just put it to sleep, terminate, I then took it to my local vet who cared for my cats. She said she would try everything she could. I never did ask how the kitten turned out, I didn't want to know. I cried as I walked out that day, leaving the kitten behind...

That story makes me think of how I might feel the day Elijah is born. What is it going to be like to go though all the work and pain of labor and delivery, only to lay there for the rest of the night alone, with no baby. The next day, going home, being wheeled out in a wheelchair... empty handed... no baby... I rather walk the plank. Talk about the walk of shame. I feel shame for not being able to save my baby's life and fix his pain. I feel like a failure not only as a woman, but also as a mother.

So I have yet another decision to think about before I make it. When, and if, Baby Elijah is born alive I have 2 options. Option #1, Elijah's spina bifida will be operated on immediately. If I choose this, I may be causing more pain, and losing more time I could be spending with him. He would be hooked up to wires and tubes. Option #2, Elijah will not be operated on. Instead he will live out the reminder of his life in my arms, with me. I get MORE time to see him, touch him, kiss him, smell him... I get more time...

All I want is my baby. I want to see my baby's eyes open, looking into mine. I do not want him to feel pain, suffer in any way.

I wish that with my tears would come the emotions that I am feeling. The emotions could run out of my body, being flushed from my soul as the tears fall. As I cry a this very moment, my emotions are left behind, inside me; eating away at every once of energy I have left. I feel sad, worthless, confused, frustrated, pain, hate, lots of hate...

One thing... just one thing God... please give me all the pain and none to my sweet, innocent Baby Elijah.