I finally got the results of Olivia’s autopsy (boy how I hate to write that). It has been confirmed that there is no other reason for her death than the true knot in her cord. Just a freak fucking accident. What are the odds? I haven’t done enough research on that – I’d been waiting to find out what the real cause was before getting too deep into the statistics of it all. Now that I know her heart, organs, brain and everything in between were all sorted through and everything was perfect, I guess I can move on to the research phase in a desperate attempt to understand. She was a perfectly healthy baby girl…until.
So I’m right back in my head where I was about a month ago. I’m stumbling around through the muck of how different everything would be if only we’d known…if only my water had broken early…if only we could’ve seen the knot from the dozen ultrasounds I had…if only, if only, if only…
And I don’t want another child. I only want the children that are supposed to be mine. Does that make sense? I’ve been thinking a lot about my desire to have another one and I think it’s all wrapped up in my unwillingness to fully believe I lost this one.
After we had Lily, we were perfectly content. I’ve never been one to want a bunch of babies. In fact, I always said I didn’t want any children at all. And then I fell in love. So I wanted his baby – but just the one. And Lily was perfect. People were constantly asking, don’t you want another? Don’t you want her to have a baby sister or brother? Aren’t babies the most wonderful thing ever?? Honestly, no. Babies are sweet and cute and fat and chewable and all, but to be perfectly honest, babies are not my favorite stage. It’s probably my own immaturaty but I get more excited when they can start walking and talking and interacting. Like now, Lily is three and she’s awesome. I love having her around but even now on some days I find myself looking forward to when she’s a little more calm. She just has more energy than I can handle sometimes. I’m not wishing our time away, I’m just trying to make a point about how I’m not your typical baby person.
Back to the point. After I got pregnant with Olivia and after the first couple months of shock that my world was about to change again, I wanted her. The one in my belly. Jump to now and I don’t really think it’s another baby I want – I think it’s just Olivia. What I guess I’m trying to say is we were happy to have an only child until Olivia came along. Now that we don’t have Olivia, we’re back to happy content with having an only child.
I don’t want another baby. I only want the babies that are mine.