R-E-G-R-E-T

I am a horrible mommy.  I am a coward.  I am weak.  I gave up on him unknowingly.  I let myself be lied to.  I believed the lies.  I didn't persecute the guilty.  I couldn't handle making sure those responsible remembered and were responsible for their injustice.  I did not look at myself from the inside out so that I could be there with him as he died.  My husband chose to be with me, his coward wife, when he wanted to be with his son when he passed.  I begged to see him after I birthed him but was too quick to see him beyond the machines.  I worshipped every moment with him to the fault that I was afraid to lose him.  I let him rest when they told me he had to be calmed down after our visits.  I should've strengthened his heart with my presence.  I let him down when I thought he was waiting for us to let him go.  I live on wondering if the reason why my husband won't talk about it anymore is because I was too chicken shit to be there when our son died that he felt an obligation to be with me.  I am guilty of not spending every moment I could with him.  I carry on a legacy of a little man I don't even know.  I carried him my womb and treasured every moment he was in my arms.  Part of me knew.  That should've made me want to be there more.  I am a horrible mommy.  I am a coward.  I am weak.