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Relief



I am writing about something today that I find kind of hard to talk about because it is a weird feeling to me.  One of the most important things someone told me after the loss of Jasmine was that whatever I am feeling in that moment is the exact right thing to be feeling.  I have kept that with me because I absolutely believe it is true.

I realized the other day that I feel some relief that Jasmine passed the way that she did.  She never had to be born and struggle to breathe.  She never had to endure surgery or any of the other things the a lot of CDH kids have to endure.  She would never feel pain and she would never suffer. 

She literally only ever knew life inside my belly.  She knew the sound of my heart and the sound of my voice.  She knew the sound of my husband's voice and she knew the sound of her brother's voice.  I believe that babies can pick up on our emotions while you are pregnant with them.  So I believe she felt all the positivity, love, and hope I was constantly sending her way.  I never wanted her to feel like I didn't believe she would make it.  And I truly did believe that she would. 

I hate saying the word "relief" in reference to any of this.  I feel like it's saying that I'm relieved she isn't here with us and that is not how I mean it at all.  It's just a word that gives me a lot of uncomfortable feelings and I feel it has such a negative connotation.  How could you possibly feel relief at something as horrible as this?  I would have done, and did do, everything I could possibly do for her.  I want nothing more than to have her here with us now.  I am just glad that, while her life was short, I believe it was a happy one.  One in which she felt safe and free of pain.

So yes, I am saying that I feel some relief over the way things happened.  And telling myself that it is okay to feel this way.  It does not mean I love her any less.  It doesn't make me a bad mother.  It just makes me a person who has feelings.

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