I’ve been listening to a particular song lots today.
On this day, exactly four months ago, I was in the hospital being injected with steroids and Elijah was still alive.
I wish I could turn the clock back.
I wish I’d said “No. I’m not having steroids and I am NOT leaving this chair or this room until you admit me and take this baby out”. I wish I’d thrown a tantrum. I wish I’d shouted and screamed and cried and thrown myself on the floor and barricaded the doors to the labour ward until they did as I asked.
But I didn’t, because I’m British and I’m too polite.
I will feel regret, every single moment, of every single day, for the rest of my life.
I’m so sorry my darling Elijah that Mummy wasn’t stronger and more mean when I needed to be mean. I’ll never forgive myself but I hope somewhere, somehow you can forgive me.
Until we meet again, I sing these words every day..
And still I dream he’ll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I’m living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.