Blame

This is the third edit of my original post. I want Dr. Amy's followers to know that they are not welcome on my blog and their presence here makes me sick. Anyone who participates in the expolitation of a mother's grief is sick and anyone like Dr. Amy, who can lie about the death of a child is doubly sick. This blog is about mourning the loss of a child within the context of my faith. If you are not here for this reason, then go away!


This is not my original post but this is the one that began what has been the icing on the cake of a year that has been  sheer hell for my family and me. Before this post was referanced and quoted by Dr. Amy, this blog was about dealing with the death of my child, which has seems to be a never- ending battle and something I now know I will have to do for the rest of my life. The thing is that it is nearly impossible to find what one is looking for after the death of a child- true peace and healing.

One thing that I noticed was that the world around me went on while my world stopped. My world would never be the same while everyone else's world just went on to bigger and better things. I could not talk to anyone because the things I felt were- well, embarassing. The few people I turned to could not understand and my husband had to go to work immediately after the death of our child. Life went on.

For me, every day was a constant struggle. At the end of ever day, I'd think to myself- "well, I got through that one..." and then another would come and then another. I was alone. So, I started this blog. I started it because I thought I could say things on this blog that I could not say to anyone in person. I also thought that I could help other people who are going through the same thing. I know that it would have helped me to have had the thoughts and feelings of another grieving mom to read; I would have known, then, that I was not so alone and I would not have felt like such a freak and at least that would have been something. And something is more than nothing.

So, I was brutally honest. I wrote exactly what I felt. I didn't mind puting it out there because I really thought I could do some good for others. I also wanted to write about my faith and my struggle to keep it. It is so hard to keep believing in God when it seems like God has abandonned me. I thought maybe if others saw my struggle, they would not lose faith as I was so trying not to do.

I had no idea my blog would be used in such a way; that my words- so honestly written with pure and decent intent- could be twisted and used against me. I had no idea I was putting myself out there to be ripped apart like that. I had no idea that the memory of my child would be profaned by such a terrible lie and my misery exploited to justify a cause that I want no part in.

Parents who love their kids feel responsible for every decision they make, which is why they think long and hard before making important decisions. Even though we try our very best and pray on things, respearch things, etc., sometimes things don't work out the way we want for out kids. When this happens, we blame ourselves. It doesn't matter how many people tell us that we did our best, that it is not our fault- giref defies all logic and we blame ourselves.

My first baby was born in the hospital under the care of negligent OBs. She nearly died and spent her first few weeks in the local NICU. She was heavily medicated for the first year of her life because the brain damage she sustained as a result of physician negligence. I blamed myself. If only I had found different OBs... if only I had said "no" to the epidural... If only I had been able to push through the lips... it just had to be my fault- something I did while I was pregnant, perhaps. Maybe I didn't try hard enough.

My second baby was born via elective section because another OB (resident) told me it would be the safest thing. I didn't want to go through my first birth experience again so I elected to have the section. During the section, the OB on call yelled at the resident because I was almost ready to push and should not have had the section. When I saw my son pulled up out of my opened abdomen, I began to cry. He was cold and he was crying and it just wasn't how I wanted him to be born. He was with strangers as he cried for his mom. I blamed myself. I failed. If only I had said "no"; if only I had been brave; if only I had remembered all that I had read... I let my fear take over.

My guilt soon turned into depression and the fact that, months later, I was still in pain from the surgery only made things worse. I still wish I had made a different decision. I love my son and I feel as if I failed him just like I failed my oldest.

My fourth baby was born at home. She was born at home but that was not what killed her. what killed her was physician ineptitude and negligence because the physician I was seeing throughout the pregnancy dropped the ball on so many things. Even so, I blame myself- just like I do for the other two- HOSPITAL- births. It is important that people know what killed my child because I do not want a lie to ruin the memory of her.

What was different about this birth, though, was the fact that other people blamed me. Even though an entire team of neonatologists and, more recently, an OB and another neonatologist have proven my innocence (and that of birth at home), people who do not bother to find out the truth and the facts have taken it upon themselves to judge and blame.

This further isolates a grieving parent and only multiplies her own sense of guilt and blame because, like I said, grief defies all logic.

I know that only God can judge me and I will have to answer for anything I have done in this life when I move on to the next. I know that, if we judge, we can expect to be judged as harshly as we have judged... It isn't anyone else's right to judge me and it isn't anyone else's right to capitalize on my misery and the death of my child.

This blog is not about birth at home. It does not defend birth at home or insult it. It is about the grief a mother feels after a child dies. It has been turned into something else entirely, though, with over 800 hits on the post that used to be in this posts place. Over 800 hits and ONE compassionate reader. I wonder if any of the readers who wanted  a good bit of drama and who wanted  to salivate over a good story got what they wanted... If so,  they have to know that their satisfaction has been at my expense and, as a result, they should feel ashamed of themselves and put some thought into Dr. Amy's methods and motives.

No one has the right to judge the motives of parents who do what they believe is best for their children. It is sad to think that we live in a world where parents can be informally charged with the death of their child simply because they do not behave in a way that is acceptable to Dr. Amy and her readers.