Skip to main content

7/26 Letting Go

July 26, 2018 | Week 8

It's funny how feelings can change in just a few days. Today, I'm feeling like I took a step backwards in the grieving process. As my final days of pumping approach, I find myself holding on and afraid of letting go. Seeing Mila's milk every day, writing her name on each bag every single day throughout the day has been so sweet & so special. I'll never get to fill out a form for Mila & write her name down on it. This is it. This is all I've had. These milk bags have been my only opportunity. I love writing her name down. I love that I think about her multiple times throughout the day. I don't want to stop thinking about her. I don't want "out of sight, out of mind", but I know that's how it's going to be. And I know that that's ok & probably even necessary. I'm feeling that all-too-familiar tension between life & death all over again. I want to choose joy and rejoice in life, but when I place myself back in that hospital corridor or back at that grave shoveling dirt over my daughter's coffin, I'm a complete mess.

As I see the milk come out of my body, I feel somehow connected to her. I guess because breastfeeding is a continuation of pregnancy, so pumping Mila's milk has felt like a continuation of her. I don't want that connection to end. I don't want to cut off this last piece of her that I have. After this, it really will just be memories. A vapor of vanishing memories. But this milk is tangible. I want something tangible. I want to physically feel her, and this pumping has become that for me.

My pumping days are coming to an end, and it is really such a bittersweet thing. I have felt so connected to my Mila while pumping the milk that she should have been drinking. I don't want to let go of that, but I know I have to put an end to it one day. My pump rental expires next week, I am running out of bags, and her due date is next week, too, so the timing just seems to be right. It has been such a joy to be able to donate Mila's milk to those 3 precious babies we found as recipients. It has been so sweet for me to daily write her name down on each bag.
7/26/18 Mila

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

5/31 Baby Mila is Born

. May 31, 2018 | 31 weeks Our baby Mila was born today. 3 lb 1 oz and 14 3/4 inches of pure bliss. She stayed with us just long enough to meet her brothers and sisters, and then she breathed her last and went home to our Lord. We had been looking forward to May 31 for weeks. I was impatient about it, even. It was the day that our second opinion was scheduled. I was eager to find out more information about our baby. Instead, I got to meet her face to face. The Day Before Wednesday afternoon, just after 3 pm, I noticed that I had some sort of a discharge come out of me, out of the birth canal side. It was only a little bit. When I wiped, it kind of looked like diarrhea (an olive brown color), and I thought I must have leaked something when I passed gas. Super embarrassing. But anyway, when I wiped my other end, there was no sign of diarrhea whatsoever. So I googled it and concluded that it must be the beginning of some sort of infection, and I resolved not to eat any more chocol

Daddy's Reflections

As a husband I can’t directly relate to my wife through pregnancy and motherhood. Those things are uniquely feminine, and I am of no help to guess what Delia is feeling. I can learn from what she expresses, and I am really glad that she has been open to me and that she has now written these posts. It gives me a glimpse into the mind of the strong, Christian woman that I married going through the trial of her life. I always need to be the leader in our marriage, but I’ve had to walk that delicate balance between being a dictator and being aimless. The decision to choose hospice after birth was the direction I saw Mila’s health going, but I let Delia get as many opinions and counsel as she desired. I would have supported intervention if she insisted, because I love her and she is the mommy. Whatever she wanted for that day she would get, such as how she wanted to capture the day on video, or what personal items she wanted to have nearby. I trust her judgment, and so I trust being patie