Tuesday was Katie and Charlotte day, also known as the day they came home from the NICU. I don't remember a lot of things from the first few months of the babies lives, but November 3, 2007 is forever burned into my brain as one of the happiest and most terrifying days of my entire life. I wrote about it
last year, and it all still holds true.

One thing about that day I didn't mention though, is the regret.
I hate regret. I've fought it my whole life, that nonstop feeling that I've screwed everything up, that I wasted an opportunity, that I said the wrong thing, wore the wrong thing, WHY did I act like that, why did I not see how foolish I was..... it took me a long time to stop. To feel comfortable with who I am and the choices I make.
But now there are a few things I just can't let go of. I have a list in my head that I go over and over, that I lay in bed at night and think about. The ache to 'redo' them sometimes is overwhelming. They are all about Jack, and they are all small things, not life or death moments. Things that I should be able to let go of but just can't.
The day we brought the girls home from the hospital, I wanted them to go in and say goodbye to Jack and take a picture of the three of them together. They hadn't been together since the moment they'd been born - the girls had been together in the step down unit, but Jack was over in the main NICU.
They wheeled me into the NICU, carrying the girls, to see Jack. And he was asleep, if I remember correctly, and had already been taken out earlier in the day (which was a big production) so PJ and I could hold him. And someone, I don't even remember who, said "there will be plenty of time to get pictures of the three of them. You'll have thousands of pictures of them." And I hated to disturb him when he was asleep, and all the tubes and the vent and the monitors made it complicated to begin with, and the girls were all bundled up, and so, we left.
We said goodbye to Jack, and left. With no idea that ten days later Jack would be flying to Philadelphia and never coming back. We left, with no pictures.

There is not one picture of my three children together. None. My girls will never have a picture with their brother. I want so badly to go back, to lay them next to him, put their heads next to his, let them be close again for even a moment. Give myself that memory of my three babies, all together.
I want to go back and shake myself, make myself turn around and say no, there won't be thousands of pictures of the three of them. There won't be any. THIS is your chance. This is it. You will regret this forever.
I'm sorry Jack, and Katie, and Charlotte. I wish I could have given you that picture, and that moment.