Guilt

As Kayla's birthday draws nearer I can't help but think about the day she was born.

As with most births it was a joyous occasion to be welcoming our first child and the first grandchild on both sides. But these last 3 years when her birthday approaches I can't help but feel a bit of guilt. I kept telling myself that at each birthday it'll get easier and I'll be able to let it go and not blame myself anymore, but I'm still not quite there yet. I'm afraid I'm always going to have this guilt weighing on me too.

We didn't know for sure Kayla would have Down syndrome, but knew there was a possibility because of the results from the AFP. We declined the amnio. I was afraid of the needle, afraid of the risk of miscarriage, afraid of the results. If I had the amnio and it confirmed it then I couldn't go the rest of my pregnancy hoping she would have the typical 46 chromosomes.

We also didn't find out the gender even though we had a few 3-D ultrasounds. We wanted to wait until the birth to find out; although we both hoped for a girl. I had a quick labor with Kayla (she was born 45 min after arriving at the hospital). I only had to push a few times before I felt her body slide out of me. I immediately leaned forward and saw we did indeed have a girl and at the same time heard Joe say "It's a girl!"

They placed her on my stomach and I looked into her face...and I knew. I just knew she had Down syndrome. And this is where my guilt comes in.

In that instant I felt completely detached. This wasn't my daughter I was holding. Who was this stranger? I felt like my heart stopped beating, like I couldn't breathe, like I was looking down on this scene and it wasn't me.

What happened to that instant bonding you hear mothers are supposed to have with their babies? Why didn't I feel that? I kept wondering. Why did I not feel like that instant motherly instinct and love? It didn't seem fair - Joe was walking around with a big smile on his face you couldn't wipe off, beaming like the proud father he was. I had just given birth to my first child so why wasn't I elated? This is what I have so much guilt over - remembering these feelings. Feeling like I missed out on something.

Then there is the guilt I feel for how I told my mom about the Down syndrome. She and my sister were at my aunt's house. Joe called to tell them we were headed to the hospital. They threw some clothes in their luggage and hightailed it to the airport praying they could get the next flight out on standby. They arrived at the hospital (after a 1.5 hr drive from the airport) about 7 hrs or so after Kayla was born. I heard them coming in the hallway. I was standing up holding Kayla and when they walked in the room I quickly handed Kayla off to my mom. After a long hug and congrats I turned around to walk back to the bed and said, "They think she has Down syndrome." My mom's reaction, "What?!" My sister asking, "what's Down syndrome?" My aunt whispering something to her. Do you know how bad I feel about that?

Mom I don't think I ever told you, but I'm sorry. Sorry for breaking the news to you that way. It wasn't fair when you just arrived, just held your first grandchild in your arms for the first time and I couldn't even give you the pleasure of 5 happy, wonderful minutes. I had to get the words out and do it fast because I thought you would know just by looking at her. I had to tell you before you could question me. But it wasn't fair for you not to get to know her first.

The third night we were in the hospital Joe stayed the night at our house. After everyone left I was really alone for the first time. Alone in that hospital room with Kayla. I got up to go to the sink and wash my face and brush my teeth. And I lost it, for the first time I just started sobbing. I was so worried one of the nurses would come in for their frequent check-ups and see me crying. I wouldn't know what to say. I didn't know exactly why I was crying, I just knew I didn't want anyone to see me like that. What if they thought I didn't love my daughter? What if I had to talk to someone? Could I go home the following day if I was such a mess?

No one expects to leave the hospital with your baby having something "wrong," having a diagnosis. So what was I to do with this child? I didn't know anything about Down syndrome, what was our life to be like? And why, oh why, was I so sad?

She was born on a Tue, we left the hospital on Fri. The following Fri we got the call from the pediatrician that the results from her blood test were in and yes she did indeed have Down syndrome. I didn't need a blood test to tell me though; I still knew just by looking at her. But as soon as I heard Joe on the phone confirming the results I broke down and sobbed again. He came in holding Kayla and we just stood there hugging and crying. Then do you know the first thing I asked him? "Do you still love her? You're not going to leave us are you?" He must have thought I was crazy. "Of course I still love her and no I'm not going to leave either of you, why would I? Why would you think I would want to? She's my daughter, I love her no matter what." My next question, "What are we going to do?" His response, "Love her and raise her the best we can." Then we went and laid down on our bed...all three of us.

After a bit Joe called his mom to tell her the news. After they got off the phone she called back a few minutes later. I could hear her crying through the phone, but I could also hear her tell him, "I just wanted to let you know I love you, I love Michelle and I love my granddaughter. Nothing's going to change that." She didn't know it, but I really needed to hear her say that. So thanks, MIL.

My mom, stepdad, and sister were still visiting but had gone out that day to give us some time alone. They were gone when we got the phone call. So when they came back home I told my mom, and again, the first thing I said was, "You still love her though don't you?" Pretty much the same response from her, "Oh Michelle of course I do! She is my granddaughter!"

When I called my dad later his response was almost like a "so? what's the big deal?" He asked me what does it mean? And I couldn't really answer that question - I didn't know.

I had finally come to realize why I was asking everyone if they still loved her. I think I couldn't allow myself to admit that I was completely in love with this child until I knew that everyone around us still loved her. I had to know that the important people in our life were going to love her no matter what and once I knew they did I could finally open my eyes and see my daughter. My daughter. Not the Down syndrome. But it still weighs heavily on my heart that I coudn't see this from the moment she was born; all I could see was her diagnosis and worry what everyone else thought. Even now I'm a crying mess writing about it.

If you didn't read this far that's ok; I know it was long. I just hoped that by finally writing it all down and getting it out I can slowly start the process of healing and of forgiving myself. Then maybe, just maybe, I can look back on her birth and not be sad about my reaction and regret those first few days.