Regrets

The question was posed:

Which do you regret more? The things you've done or the things you haven't done?

For me, it's the things I've done. The choices I've made. There's still time for the things I haven't done, but I can't undo the things that I have done.

I think I've questioned more decisions I've made in the last 10.5 months than I have in the entirety of my life. None moreso than the details surrounding the birth of my son. Looking through pictures today, I came upon this one:
Disregard disgusting arm stretch marks. The picture brought tears to my eyes. I think it was one, if not the first, time I got to hold my baby. And the look on his face. It's as if he's saying, "where have you been? what took you so long?". I didn't get to see him for quite some time. At the time, it didn't seem weird to me. I didn't know. And I take some comfort in my ignorance at the time.

But that face. He was waiting to see me, too. I was the only person he knew in the whole wide world and I wasn't there. He was alone in a bed with people poking and prodding him and I wasn't there.

That is what I regret.

I know he's fine now. I don't think our bond was permanently damaged. But it still hurts.