Which is really hypocritical of me because I constantly give Archie grief for blaming himself.  It isn’t his fault…and it isn’t my fault…and our brains know this…but our hearts bleed. 

His heart bleeds because Brandon was the ‘perfect’ child.  He was never really sick (a minor bowel issue until 3yo, but otherwise) – Brandon is neurotypical.  ARchie is not biologically his father.  Our two special needs children are his biological children.  He draws the line of coincidence and though his head tells him that it isn’t his fault…his heart aches and bleeds thinking it was somehow his fault – his genes that did it.

For me, it’s an old vice.  One that still haunts me…and one that I abused when I was pregnant…not with Brandon, and not with Riley…but with Angel…

I smoked until I was five and a half months pregnant with her.  In my (very weak) defense I hadn’t the foggiest idea I WAS pregnant (seriously I REALLY had no idea…both me and my OB were shocked)…but I was, and I did. 

I had my first cigarette at 11.  At 16 I really started smoking – and started hard with reds.  I smoked off an on for years.  I’ve always had a knack of just deciding one day that I’d quit and that would be it – for months and years at a time.  When I started drinking (at 18), I’d almost always have at least one cigarette when I drank – which worked since it was only once every few months.  But I was a horrible social smoker…when others smoked, I joined.  Working in food service – a LOT of food service workers smoke…so when I started waitressing after Riley was born, I started smoking – like a frickin’ chimney. 

Truth be told, with all three of my kids I smoked right up until the day I found out I was pregnant.  Brandon I stopped as soon as I saw the test – and never looked back, in fact they made me sick.  With Riley, I quit before I knew I was pregnant…they just made me nuts, so did alcohol (not that I was ever addicted to that). 

But when I got pregnant with Angel, I had no idea I was pregnant.  I was using three forms of birth control (four if you count the new-parent exhaustion-created near-abstinence).  I was working at Bob Evans (yum) and smoking like a chimney with my friends and coworkers. 

I’ve always felt guilt about it – but pushed it aside as best as I could. 

But when I hear the doctors say “Something happened neurologically while she was in utero.  Something minor, but enough to cause this…”  As they have since we first started looking for reasons for her left-sided weakness.  Every time I hear “neurological event” and “in utero” – I blame myself. 

And my heart bleeds. 

And bleeds…

And tonight…my heart bleeds…and again I blame myself…