Saturday, July 4, 2009

I Wish

I wish I could undo the past year. In approximately ten days it will be one year since we learned of Calvin's heart defect in utero. One year ago today I was blissfully unaware that one of my babies had a serious defect and would later die. One year ago I was pregnant and hot and joyfully waiting to find out whether we were having boys, girls or one of each. I wish I could go back to that time and feel the anticipation, the excitement and the wonder of having two babies growing inside me. By July last year I was already huge and still had four months to go, but I was eager and happy and feeling fertile and womanly...

I wish I could go back to the ICU with the knowledge that my time with Calvin was limited. I would have crammed as much life into one week as possible, spent every waking moment with him, even if it meant entrusting Georgia to the care of the nurses in Fir. I wish I could have bathed him, nursed him, kissed him a thousand more times.

I wish more of my friends and family had gotten the chance to meet our son. The hardest thing about losing Calvin in Vancouver was not having the friends there to support us in person. None of the people in my life that I care about, other than Shane's family, came to visit or met our sweet boy. As a result, nobody talks to me about him and it's a lonely, isolated feeling to grieve someone you love so much that noone else has met.

I wish I could sit down with Dr. C over a few pints and pick his brain about his experience with Calvin. More than anything I would like to hear his thoughts and feelings on what happened to Calvin and how it affected him when he realized our son would die. I would also like to ask him what made him go into medicine and how he deals with the heartache of losing some of his patients.

I wish I could have had my mother brought to Children's somehow to meet Calvin before he died. I know it would have been a huge ordeal to have brought her there because we probably would have had to have her brought in by ambulance, as well as having a care attendant with her the whole time. I wish she could remember from day to day who my husband is, what my children's names are and the important things in my life that I have shared with her. I wish she were well.

I wish that I didn't struggle so much with self doubt. I know that somewhere inside of me is a confident, intelligent woman who believes in herself and her abilities. I just don't know where she's been this past year. Sometimes, I am so intimidated by the thought of speaking to people that I avoid social situations altogether rather than having to meet and mingle. I think if I could get back to my pre pregnancy weight, I wouldn't feel as shy and awkward about being social. Somewhere in my head though, there's always the thought that I am being judged and critiqued. I was so worried that my son's doctors were looking at me as some stupid, overweight, hysterical woman that I didn't ask as many questions as I wanted to, didn't want to break down crying in front of them or come off like a lunatic. I'm sure I did anyways...

I wish my daughters could have known my father before he died, even if it was briefly. My dad was awesome when I was a little girl, it was only when I was older and could see through his crap that we became estranged. I also wish that they could have known my mother before she became an empty shell lying in her hospital bed grinding her teeth. My mother was so smart, physically active and just an all around lovely woman when I was younger. She had so much to offer, gave me so much knowledge and love that I know if she were able, she would be the most wonderful grandmother to my girls. I miss her. I miss the mother I had before MS stole her from me.

I wish more than anything that my girls grow up to be secure in themselves. I wish for them to follow their dreams, reach their potential and be happy in all that they do. I don't care if that means being a fulltime mom like me or becoming doctors or lawyers. As long as they find happiness and aren't settling for second best, that's all that matters. I wish for them to know love that is gentle and kind, never abusive or demanding, like the love I have with their father. Having come from an abusive first marriage where I lost any shred of dignity or self esteem I had, into a positive and supportive marriage with Shane, my wish for them is to skip the unhappiness of an unhealthy relationship and to not settle for poor treatment. I wish them to know their worth. Most of all, I wish for them to always know how much they are loved. My girls were my miracles, my happiness in a sea of despair while trying to have a family. They were wanted more than anything and are loved twice as much.

I wish for inner peace for myself. I don't expect the grief to end but I want it to mellow, to not be as strong and consuming. I wish to find lightness in my life, to enjoy the simple things again. I wish to remember Calvin with a smile and a warm feeling in my heart some day, instead of a raging pain that tears me to shreds. I wish that he is at peace and that he knows how much I love him. I wish he would give me a sign that he's okay so that I could be okay in trusting in heaven. I wish God could lead me to my own "Shack" for a weekend to prove to me that things are as I have alway tried to believe. That there is a heaven, that there is eternal life, that there is no suffering and that we will be made whole again. That I will see my son again in time. I wish I could be sure...


  1. I wish I could be sure too.

    Sometimes the whole of last year still feels like a bad dream. I can't shake this feeling that I will wake up and I'll be pregnant with the girls again and, this time, everything will be okay. I have so many regrets.

    I'm so sorry that your girls haven't really had your own parents in their lives. I'm so sorry that your mother has been stolen away from you, it is terribly cruel.

    I wish that you didn't doubt yourself. I also feel like I've become a different person since I lost G. A weaker person, a more frightened person. It sucks. I felt like I was just coming into my own and then, bang.

    I'm sure your son's doctors didn't see you as hysterical. I'm sure they would have known you weren't stupid just by talking to you and anyone would have been hysterical under the circumstances.

    The last two wishes, wishing them right along with you Margaret. For your girls and for you. I hope we can all find a bit of that elusive inner peace. xx

  2. I wish I could be sure too. I also have so many doubts. And so many regrets. But I can't do anything about those regrets ... unfortunately.

    I too hope that the intelligent confident woman inside of me will reappear one day. But I'm not pinning too much hope on that.

    I still hope sometimes that I will wake up one day and these last three years will vanish in a flash ... but that hope is also fading.

    I wish you peace.

  3. You're right, grieving someone that not many people got to know is terribly lonely. Sending you much love & hugs.