Thursday, December 01, 2005

Why me?

I've been wondering that a lot lately. Why me? Why exactly did my baby die? I just don't get it.

I'm not saying that in the "oh woe is me" sense either (well, not tonight, anyway). I'm just posing the question to the gods - to the cosmic powers that be; why? Is it one big reason? Is it a million small ones? Will I ever really know or will I spend the rest of my life speculating?

I tend to believe that things happen for a reason, mostly because randomness is too frightening a concept to me. I hate the idea that Thomas died for a reason (what reason could possibly be good enough?), but the thought of him dying for no reason at all is immensely more disturbing to me. So I have to assume that the reason was a good one, or maybe a zillion good ones, most of which I'll never know about.

But is that fair? Is it fair for me not to know why my baby died? Fine, he died for a really good reason (or millions of them) but it doesn't seem right that his mother shouldn't know why - shouldn't at least have the comfort of knowing the good that has come (or will come) from such a horrific loss.

I've seen wonderful things since Thomas died - I've seen people change, I've witnessed hearts open, I've watched walls fall down - but couldn't there have been a way for all those wonderful things to happen without him dying?

I keep hoping the one reason or the million and one small ones will somehow be big enough to make up for his loss, but I just don't see how they possibly can.

Then I think maybe that kind of thinking devalues his life. Just because it was only 20 hours long doesn't necessarily mean it wasn't a full life. It was his entire life, and maybe that's all it was supposed to be, just like some people live to be 94. His time was measured in hours, not years, but that doesn't mean his life wasn't important.

The thing is, I figured all that out a long time ago. I know his life was important - it was incredibly important to me, to My Beloved and to everyone who loved our Thomas.

It's not a matter of me convincing myself that his life was important. It's a matter of me trying to understand why it was important for his life to be just 20 hours long. Why him?

I think of all the hopes and dreams I had for him - all the things I thought I'd see him do and achieve - and he couldn't even take his own breaths, except for the tiny gasps right before he died (gasps I can still here - those are the only sounds I ever heard him make). Why was that his life? Why couldn't God have figured out a way for him to make an impact on this world and still be alive today?

I'm dangerously close to blasphemy here, I believe. I shouldn't question God. I shouldn't, but why not? He can't possibly expect me to understand any of this or accept it without question, can he? What human could possibly do that - accept the loss of one so loved without question? Even Jesus questioned his fate - or at the very least begged for a different one - if God would allow it.

But he didn't. If he couldn't or wouldn't spare his own son, I suppose it makes sense that he wouldn't spare mine either.

Look at me! I'm running on the world's most horrifying hamster wheel lugging my bag of sorrow and trunk of questions around with me! Around and around and around we go. No answers, just endless turning and more questions.

I'm grateful I've been able to see so many beautiful things come from Thomas' death. I will always be grateful for that, and for everyone who shows me (whether they know it or not) how they've been changed by my son.

But I also know I'll spend the rest of my life searching for more reasons to add to my list. I just don't see how I'll ever be able to stop. I couldn't do that to Thomas.

And so I'll keep asking why until I die.


AJW5403 said...

I just found your blog today and I have sat and read the whole thing. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for everything you have went through and what you are still going through. I will keep you in my thoughts for a good holiday.

Sherry said...

I don't get it, either - and probably never will. All I can figure is that me knowing the reason would change the outcome (all the good aspects, I mean) - and knowing the reason might torment me more than not knowing. Does that make sense?

The pastor who conducted Ryan's memorial service said one thing during the service that really stuck: God knows how I'm feeling because He lost His son, too. By the pastor saying that, it makes me wonder if God couldn't save His son and could only watch helplessly - just as we did with our boys. ((((((((HUGS)))))))))

Denise said...

I have no answers for you but I thought I’d tell you what Thomas’s life means to me. I remember seeing a posting of yours before you were pregnant with Thomas. I saw the happy little Canadian flag on your post and stuck around to see what the board was like. I found it to be a board full of information, support and caring women. Fast forward to the week that you announced you were pregnant. For some reason I felt compelled to test as well. Two lines! Thomas and my little one were due within a week of one another. Through weeks of uncertainty and eventually emergency surgery my little one was deemed the cold term of ‘not viable’ as he/she had taken up residence in one of my tubes. One half of a centimeter would have made all the difference. I hate living in a world of what ifs but I suppose that is human nature. I was heartbroken and mad at the world. It was then I started to follow your pregnancy as I couldn’t help but want to know what I would have been experiencing if I was still pregnant. Probably not the healthiest of behaviours but it made me feel better knowing that someone who wanted a child as much as I did was living out the dream I wanted. We waited the required recovery time to try again and were successful in becoming pregnant very quickly. I tried very hard to enjoy my pregnancy but I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I kept thinking where I should have been in my pregnancy rather than enjoying the moment. I remember the day that Abby posted saying what had happened to your perfect, little Thomas. I felt sick with grief for you and selfishly for myself. Your little Thomas was my tangible reminder of what my little one would have been doing if he/she had made it to this world. Life seemed so unfair as now I didn’t have either one of them. My own pregnancy continued pretty uneventfully until the last couple of weeks. High blood pressure and a baby that refused to drop made induction the route to go. I remember you posting once that you wish you had been induced earlier…that stuck with me. I chose the earlier date for induction and then was very assertive when they wanted to bump me because labour and delivery was full.
I can’t explain everything in words but I do know that I made choices over those two days that are directly responsible for my son being here today. I made those choices based on you having the courage of sharing Thomas’s life with us. I truly believe that Thomas’s spirit was with me in the delivery room. I think of Thomas often and thank him for giving me the guidance and the wisdom to follow my instinct and advocate on Matthew’s behalf. I thought long and hard before writing this because I didn’t want it to come off as some crazy person rambling or somehow hurt you by sharing my story. My purpose behind sharing this is that Thomas’s life mattered…it still matters. I look at life differently and take nothing for granted. Thomas’s life touched me and continues to impact my life. I just wanted to say thank-you.