The Guilt

I have guilt.

The selfish kind of guilt.

Some days it is easier than the next.

Other days it is so in my face that I can't help but break down and actually have to face it.

I feel guilty that I put my son through hell.

I feel guilty that all of those scars on his sweet body I allowed them to do .

The thousands of mini burns on his eyes, I signed a paper that said they could do that.

The battle wounds that grace his perfectly round head I allowed them to do that.

I watched day after day while he was on a ventilator, praying that God would give me MY baby to take home.

I prayed for him to live.

I asked others to pray for him to live.

I am selfish.

Yet every day I look at him and wish it were easier for him.

I take him to therapy.

I give him kisses.

I read him books.

I make him laugh.

He gives me kisses.

He makes me laugh

And I love him.

I am selfish.