Broken Promises

Chapter 30 - Conclusion

The loss of you has been amputation of my soul. Every morning I look in the mirror, and I see the piece that is missing. It screams of the deformity, the lack of normalcy. I feel the shooting phantom pains as they surge from what is no longer there to what is remaining. That deformity cannot be covered with clothing. There is no way to hide it. I can only try my best to not look at it, to pretend it does not exist. Someone will ask a question that makes me have to show them my scar, and deep down I resent them for it. "Do you have any children?" Such a seemingly innocuous question.

When I let others in as a prosthesis for what is lost, those phantom pains scream at me reminding me what is missing and what will never be. But still, that crutch is needed to sustain what is left. Without those people who may not even know how important they are, nothing remains. They are the most precious living souls in my life. For a moment, they let me pretend and think...what if.

Maybe life is like Newton's third law:

For every action there is an equal and opposite action.

The universe is in balance. Positive and negative. Give and take.

To go forward, something must go back.

Possibly for some to be happy, others cannot be.

Instead of karma returning good for good, it takes the good from some and leaves them only bad,

Maybe accepting the bad will allow others who are more deserving to have the good.

Maybe there can be a happiness in embracing the sadness if someone you care about gets the happiness you wish you could have.

People have asked me two questions that are difficult to answer. Did I ever get to a point where I stopped asking God why? I think that's a ridiculous, or stupid, question. I will always ask why. I will never stop asking. You are worth asking about. You were worth stepping up for. You are worth yelling, arguing, and crying over. For someone to ask that question, I know they do not understand the pain.

The other question was whether or not I forgive the doctors who hurt you. It's difficult to forgive someone when they never asked for forgiveness. This was a mistake that never should have happened. It was neglect. It's hard for me to think that if someone had walked up to you and slapped you that I would ever forgive them. I am not sure I would. We were told after the settlement that the hospital apologized which is not something that is normally done. It did mean a lot, but you were still broken.

"I am sorry," doesn't make you whole. It does not erase damage that was done. It did not give you back your life. It is actually just an acknowledgement that something should never have happened and regret that it did. I am sorry should always be followed by a change of behavior. I have wondered if the hospital changed its policies to make sure that parents know when cesarean sections will be done. I wonder if policies are in place to prevent doctors from ever doing this again. I seriously doubt they have, but it's possible...just not probable.

It's been almost twenty-one years. I was sitting at a red light a couple days ago. I was wondering if these people realize that a wrong decision they made over two decades ago is still destroying a family. I wonder if they understand that they killed my soul with their neglect. That mistake broke everything. It ended my little family.

Recently I traced my family lineage all the way back through coming from Germany to fighting for the North. It is a rich lineage of people from Germany, England, and Ireland. I traced my dad's lineage all the way back to so many greatparents I lost count. Then it hit me that these doctors chopped my limb off. They effectively stopped my branch. Who knows who would have come from my branch? They stole your lineage too. They stole your future. They stole the future of all those who would have traced themselves back. They stole you who I know would have been an incredible woman who changed the world.

I would be curious if I were to go to them and ask what the biggest mistake they made in their professional life, how long would it take them to say you name. Would they ever? Do they even know it?

In the end I have to forgive people, or it will eat me alive, and I have enough trying to do that. So maybe I have to forgive them.

A friend asked me once if I regretted the decision to not withhold care and to be your caregiver knowing how it would turn out. The only time I have questioned it is whether I simply prolonged your pain so that I could avoid having to make a decision that I should have known was inevitable. I cannot regret the decision to give you a chance. That is the job of a father. If a person is not willing to give up everything for their child, then they should not create them.

So many do not realize just how easily things could go wrong. This has been something that friends and family have learned. We are all just a fraction of a second away from tragedy. You could slip on the steps walking outside and end up paralyzed or brain dead. The cat could trip you on the steps. Your child could step too close to the road and be hit by a car. Cancer. Anything.

And yet no one thinks about this. We expect that our life will be happy and full. We will not experience the darkness. That is for others. We are blessed. God loves us.

And then it happens.

There are things I wish I had done differently, but I do not regret being your dad. I would not be who I am today without you. I would not be worth knowing had I abandoned you. I would not be my father's son had I not sacrificed everything for you. And in the end, deep down, there was no other choice to be made.

My only regret is not listening to that voice that told me something was wrong. That is my greatest sin. A sin I can never be forgiven for.