Today has been a no good rotten day. Actually, this whole week has been rotten. Not at home, but at work. I have a job I truly enjoy but as with all things you pour a lot of yourself into....it can be stressful. It can hurt. It can cause you to want to throw your hands in the air and walk away from it all.
Lately, I have been thinking about my first moments with Curtis. Not when I was pregnant with him, but right after the nurse laid him on my chest after he was born. He was so quiet. So still. His eyes were closed...and I was scared of him. I was so scared of his little, still body, a body I had felt move at one point but now....was still.
Basically, I had poured myself into this pregnancy and him and when it got hard, I walked away from it all.
Just for a moment. Just for a moment. I swear, it was just for a moment. But the guilt of what I felt in those moments, being scared of him, eats me up more than any of my other regrets. The nurse took him away and cleaned him up. He came back all wrapped up, cozy, like any newborn baby. I held him. I shared him. I had to make the decision to eventually say goodbye to his little body and never, ever, ever hold him again.
These moments have been looping in my mind lately. I don't know why. I don't know why four and a half years later I can't forgive myself of being scared of him. Being scared of what was ahead. Sometimes it still feels like too much. And I want to throw my hands in the air, and walk away. But I can't. Because, like all things we truly enjoy and all things that are worth pouring ourselves into....there are moments where you know it is completely worth it.