Purell and Other Considerations

We bought a bottle of Purell. Every time we went to visit Sawyer, we had to "scrub in" for 2 minutes (had to set a timer and use scrub-brushes and everything!) and then put Purell on our hands. Our son smelled like Purell because everything that touched him was covered in it. We bought it so we could smell it and smell him. It is crazy how much the alcoholy smell of it makes me see him so clearly and long for him so much.

Last night I stared at his picture for about half an hour. I realized again how beautiful he was. Brian was too, but I never got to watch him move and cry and open his eyes to look at me. I miss them both so badly. I stared at his face and wanted to get in the car, drive to the NICU, and sit with him more strongly than I ever have so far. It still feels to me like he should be there waiting for me, kicking his little legs and covering his tiny ears to block out the sounds of the beeping monitors.

I don't know where to go from here. Since February of 2006, my life has been about being a mother. Everything I have done was for my boys. I had surgery, I took off work, I bought everything a baby boy might need . . .and now I'm left with memories and nothing more. I get emails every day from baby resources--I had subscribed to all kinds of newsletters. I have to delete them . . .you're 26 weeks today! You're 27 weeks today! You're 28 weeks today! No . . .actually, I'm not pregnant, and my sons are both gone. So what can I do? I have no career aspirations, no goals, nothing. I have Jim. We want to get a house, but even that brings pain, because we wanted to buy a house for us and our boys. Now I just have emptiness and blankness and no purpose that I can think of. Other people try to suggest to me what I should or shouldn't be doing . . .try to help me with goals for the future. The only goal I had was to be a good mother for my boys. I would do anything to have them back again. Literally anything. I did everything I could to get them here, but it wasn't enough. I know it wasn't "my fault," but it was my body that failed them, so I can't help but feel like a failure. It feels like everyone is staring at me all the time. I've even had people ask me what I could have done to prevent this . . .as if I didn't do EVERYTHING in my power . . .and tell me that I can't have more kids because other people have gone through enough pain over our attempts to bring our children into this world. How's that for sensitivity?

So now I just wait for something new. I'll let you know when I figure out what it is.