In a name

Corinne had her baby on March 11. I called several times when she was in the hospital - before, and after the baby was born. A little girl. I heard the little mewling noises that a newborn makes. It filled me with so much joy.
On March 12, I called again for what must have been the fifteenth time. And in a moment of openness and loving and wanting to give Corinne everything, I gave away something I should not have given: I gave her Zadie.
Zadie was Sjors' child. And mine. She didn't get born. She wasn't even conceived. But I felt that she was waiting. I wanted so badly to have her. And when I lost Sjors, I lost her, too.
Eve told me that I hadn't lost her yet. That I might be able to have her some day. So I've been waiting until I was strong enough, recovered enough, could guarantee I could fight the blackness enough and not walk into the ocean. And waiting until I could have joy, not sorrow, when I had Zadie without Sjors.
Two years ago, I told Corinne about Zadie. She forgot the story, but the name must have stuck, so when her baby was born, she wanted the name. and because I would give Corinne anything, I gave her Zadie.
I knew within moments that this was a very bad thing for me, but I thought, "maybe she won't do it. Maybe she won't choose my baby's name." And I hoped that she wouldn't.
Corinne texted me on March 13. She asked, "Would you be offended if we named her Zadie Corinne?" I didn't respond. I wasn't offended. I was feeling overwhelmed with a pain that I couldn't understand and I thought it wasn't fair to influence her decision.
On March 14, she texted the chosen name to the family, "her name is Zadie Marie."
I've been horrified by the amount of pain that this has generated. It takes my breath away. When I wake up in the morning, I start sobbing and I can't stop. I've tried to address the pain and I've tried to ignore it. I keep hoping that it will change - that it will dissipate and I can come to terms with it.
Sometimes I think that, if I can identify the reasons for the pain itself, then I can combat it. But it is too powerful for me. It says to me, "Maybe I've fucked up too badly. Maybe god gave Zadie to Corinne instead of me." It is full of all that grief and sorrow and loss that is enmeshed and enshrined in the loss of Sjors and our future that was lost, and his betrayal. It is full of so much sadness.
It isn't reasonable, but it's stronger than something I can make a choice about, and it has poisoned my ability to be in a relationship with Corinne. I can't call her, and I feel sick when I see her name on the caller ID. She has gone someplace that I can't follow. There is this wall of pain that stands between us and I don't know how to penetrate it. I don't think that I can. I am shut out. I can't reach out to this new little child because she is tethered to this pain.

I had no idea that I would feel so intensely about this. If I had known, I never would have done it. I don't know what to do now.