I lied....

There is one thing I am still guilty about. (Referring to my previous posts about my miscarriage). I have never told any one about this. But since I am using my blog as therapy right now, I figured I should be honest. Maybe if I write about it I can finally put the guilt away.

In april of 2004 my beloved grandfather was losing his battle with cancer. This was also around the anniversary of my miscarriage. I was an emotional mess to say the least. Losing my Grandpa was hard on the entire family. He was after all the rock, the foundation, the 'father' of my family. As the end drew near he was hospitalized. Family took turns sitting with him. He was never alone.
One night I sat with him. I held his hand. As a nurse, I was used to the monitors, tubes and wires. These things didn't bother me like they did the others. What bothered me was that I couldn't talk to him. When I worked ICU, I used to talk to my patients as I cared for them. It was easy for me and I hoped, soothing for them. Complete strangers I would talk to and calm. But my own grandpa, a man I loved, I couldn't even form a word.
Finally, without thinking, I opened my mouth and words came out. "Pap-pa", I said. " When you get to heaven, please find my baby and tell it how much it was loved. And.....and....please ask Jesus to give me another baby. Pick one out for me that is just right. " I began to cry. And my grandpa became very restless and agitated. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. I wanted to take it all back. What was I thinking? You aren't supposed to say things like that to dying people. As I watched him become more and more upset I became physically sick with guilt. What had I done? "Please don't be upset. Please don't be upset." I kept whispering. Guilt.
My cousin Mike came in to relieve me. I gave him the update but couldn't bring myself to say it was my fault my grandpa was suddenly agitated. The nurse came in and gave him some medicine to further sedate him. That was the last private moment I ever had with my grandpa. I felt like I had ruined it. I had done a very selfish thing. So much guilt....
Sometimes when I visit his grave I still ask for forgiveness. I know I am forgiven because I know he loved me and wouldn't want me carrying this guilt. But I still ask for forgiveness time and time again. I even ask God for forgiveness because I feel like what I said was some sort of sin. After my son was born I felt a little better about things. Trey began to look a lot like my father's baby pictures. I couldn't help but think this was because my grandpa really had helped pick out a baby for me.
I still wish I could go back and make my last words to my grandpa something else, anything else. But I can't. Guilt.

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