Contains vivid memories about my son dying. May make some uncomfortable.
At the end of therapy today my doctor asked me to try and focus on good thoughts about Isaiah's life. So, I told him that I would blog about it. I've been trying, trying hard to think of the good that came from Isaiah's life and I can't. You guys are probably thinking that I'm a horrible Mom, but really it's just my mind. For some reason, My brain is stuck on the last three weeks of his life. From the moment we took his feeding tube out to the day he was buried. My brain has been stuck watching my son starve to death, seize, scream, and slip into a coma. I'm not choosing to focus on these horrific moments, the thoughts just overcome my whole being. I have flashbacks of listening to him scream, looking at his sunken in, gray face, trying to change his diaper worrying I'm going to break his legs, watching him have seizures and just holding him tight until it was over, wrapping him up in a heating pad and five blankets because his temperature won't rise above 93 degrees, rubbing ice chips on his cracked and bleeding lips, listening to his neurologist tell me that he wasn't really looking at me because he was in a coma, taking him out of his casket at the viewing and holding onto him for dear life one last time and watching the tiniest white coffin I have ever seen be lowered into the ground.
As I was writing all of those memories it occured to me that maybe my mind is protecting me in a weird way. Maybe if I remember the blessings and good moments the pain of losing him would consume me even more than it already does. Maybe I'm disassociating myself from the whole reality because I'm not emotionally ready to deal with the fact that something wonderful in my life was poisoned with disease and ripped from my arms.
Whatever it may be, it's my reality. You can think I'm a horrible Mom all that you want, but please don't judge me unless you have lived this nightmare.