One of the things we don't want people to say to us is that it's for the best. In fact, the lady who wrote the letter in my last post said it best:
"Don't say, "It was for the best - there was probably something wrong with your baby." The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad. My poor baby never had a chance. Please don't try to comfort me by pointing that out.
Every day I feel guilty that I wasn't able to do something to help my daughter. Momma's are supposed to kiss the boo-boos away, but Trisomy 18 is not an ordinary boo-boo. It's fatal, always. Nothing I could do would change that. It haunts me.
I should have been able to find a doctor to help her. Love should have been enough to save her, but it wasn't. Trisomy 18 was just too much for her to overcome.
If love could have saved her, Jenna Grace would have lived forever. She was loved by a lot of people before she was even born.
Jenna didn't have a chance. From the moment sperm fertilized egg, she was doomed to be incompatible with life. Like the writer of the letter, I don't need to be reminded of that. I will always know it, because she isn't here with me. She's dead, and even though I have said myself that it's for the best and know it to be true, I wish it wasn't. I wish she didn't have to be sick at all.
Living Room with Fireplace Design Ideas
2 years ago