We were waiting on one final piece to close out testing for Leo, and that’s the pathology on the placenta.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much they could tell us, as when there is a fetal demise (your baby has died), nature begins to take course. That means that my placenta had already begun to disintegrate and there wasn’t much they could do with it. They didn’t note anything significant in the pathology and therefore it means we won’t know with 100% certainty what caused Leo’s death. We knew that all along, and in most cases, you don’t always have 100% certainty to explain a miscarriage. There are other things that we suspect happened, for now, they’re all just theoretical.
I’m okay with that. I’m at peace with that.
I had been preparing myself for a while as to what my response would be, given the many outcomes that the test results would provide. They ranged from relief, anger, guilt and back to relief.
I feel relieved. For whatever reason, I feel that Leo is at rest. He was loved for every moment of his life. He never knew anything more than the comfort of that.
I feel relief because, although we only know a small part of the puzzle, it was enough to know that things turned out for the best. I feel some sense of guilt even saying that, but I feel that way in my heart. He had a rough little start, the odds were never in his favor. Part of that is my fault, and most of it is not. I say that it’s my fault, only because I know I could have been in better health at the time of conception. I have to stop playing the game of What-If’s and that’s what I plan to do. I’ve stopped blaming myself for feeling like I failed him and failed myself. I did my best. I did more than my best. I forgive myself for feeling like I was partly to blame. I forgive myself.
I know better now and my life, instead of being filled with despair, is filled with hope. This is what I’m choosing to do and it brings me great happiness to choose hope over despair. My having Leo and losing Leo has left an imprint on my heart and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Leo lived. Leo died. Leo is my baby and as long as I’m living, my baby he’ll be.
XO, Isabel