Terrible

Sometimes (a lot of the time) I can't help but feel that it is my fault that Maxie died.  I worry (agonize) that a major decision I made for him - one that I spent hours and hours researching and looking into - ultimately led to his death.  Frankly - it makes me hate myself.  I feel like a terrible mother and a terrible person.  It's one of the many reasons that I can hardly stand being in my own skin anymore.  I feel completely unworthy of love, completely unworthy of life.  I didn't take Max's well being lightly.  I worried about him constantly - even though there was seemingly nothing to be worried about.  Maxie was a HEALTHY boy.  There was nothing wrong with him.  So, when I go to the pediatrician (like I did yesterday because Mo has what I thought was a little rash - but is just dry skin), and I hear that "he looks great" - it means nothing.  I know he looks great.  He is the picture of health and sweetness - just like Maxie was.  Too bad health is not a predictor for life or death.  They all seem to be totally unrelated.  Anyway, all this to say - I had the dream again last night.  The one where I am a terrible mother and I've left my baby somewhere but I am not sure where.  Then, when I finally find him, he is dead.  It would just be the most terrible nightmare ever - if it hadn't actually happened to my sweet baby in real life.