TMI vs. not TMI?

February 28, 2012 at 10:46 pm | Posted in life lessons, normal?, twins, venting | 5 Comments
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I do talk about Jake and Sawyer – and if you are reading this then you know I do write about them quite often.  They are never far from my thoughts.  However, I will at times not mention my 2 children who are not with me.  Sometimes it is because I do not know the other person and will never see them again.  Other times it is because I do not want to see the look of pity which often accompanies Jake and Sawyer’s stories.

Then there are times when I give too much information on purpose.  I distinctly remember a wedding shortly after Jake died.  Evan and I were talking to 2 other couples.  One of the couples, who are our very good friends, like us did not have any children at home at the time.  The 3rd couple kept mentioning their kids and the fact that we did not have any.  They asked things like, “How long have you been married?”  We each answered.  Couple #3 followed up with, “So, aren’t you thinking about having kids?”  We each politely tried to dodge the questions and change the subject.  Couple #3 did not take the hints.  I finally had enough.  I wanted to stop this line of questioning.  So, I piped up,”We buried our son a few months ago.”  I thought that the conversation would come to a screeching halt.  I was wrong.  Couple #3 does not miss a beat, “When will you start trying again?”

The past few days I have been once again tempted to share too much information in order to stop a conversation.  We have been receiving many emails about teacher appreciation week at the twins’ preschool.   Each class needs volunteers for a specific time so the teachers can eat a child free (aka peaceful) lunch.  The exact time the volunteers are needed is when Evan and I have a meeting scheduled with a rabbi to discuss Sawyer’s unveiling.

At first I did not reply to the emails.  The emails kept coming.  I drafted the following:

“I am sorry I cannot volunteer for the teacher appreciation lunch because we need to meet with a rabbi so that we can plan our youngest son’s unveiling.  We have had trouble getting the correct headstone.  Now it is here and the rabbi who presided over Sawyer’s funeral took a visiting rabbi assignment up north.  He won’t be back till April.  A very good friend put us in touch with her rabbi.   We are meeting with him at the exact same time you need volunteers.”

I deleted my rambling email and opted for not TMI:

“Sorry again but I just cannot volunteer at that time this week.  If something changes I will let you know asap.  Hope that you have a good night.  Thank you.”

Sometimes less is more.

Where are Sawyer & Jake? (part 2)

February 26, 2012 at 9:16 pm | Posted in after death?, Death, Grief, life lessons, Love, normal? | 5 Comments
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In this post I wrote that I believe Jake and Sawyer are in our hearts.  I also believe they are close by.  I do not have any proof.  It is just a feeling (and a hope).  Maybe at times it is more than a feeling.

Last year, in the last few days of Evan’s mother’s life she (Shelley) spoke about people in the room.  She was at home.  Family, friends and hospice were with her.  A few times Shelley mentioned that there was a woman behind her and a little boy on the bench at the end of her bed.

When she was 17, Shelley took care of her sick mother.   Shelley cared for her until she died 2 years later.  Shelley was 19 at the time.  Over 40 years later, Shelley spoke about a woman behind her bed.  I believe that woman was her mother.

Evan’s sister asked questions about the woman and the boy.  Shelley said that the boy seemed like he was around 6.  At the time of Shelley’s death Jake would have been 5 1/2.  I like to think that the boy was Jake.

“It is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but only retire a little from sight and afterwards return again.  Nothing is dead; men feign themselves dead, and endure mock funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out of the window, sound and well, in some new strange disguise.”   – –  Ralph Waldo Emerson

It is all part of my new normal.  The reality I live in now does not include Jake and Sawyer’s physical presence but they are always nearby.  They send me signs – like when I see a praying mantis on the window of my parent’s 8th floor condo or a ladybug in the middle of winter.  I will look for their signs while I wait to hold Jake and Sawyer again.  As an extremely wise bereaved mom wrote, “a lifetime is an impossibly long time to wait to hold my child again.”

Out of Control

February 22, 2012 at 9:30 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons, twins, venting | 6 Comments
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“If everything seems under control, you’re just not going fast enough.”
– – Mario Andretti

Thank you all so much for the well wishes for Evan.  He was cleared to go back to work.  He will have quite a few doctor’s appointments in his future but we are hopeful that his health will be back under control soon.  I have once again been reminded of an important life lesson. I DO NOT HAVE ANY CONTROL.

I am not sure what happens but sometimes I forget. It is like I have amnesia and I actually believe I have a bit of control.  Jake, Sawyer, infertility . . . just to list a few glaring instances where I am not in charge. I will continue to remind myself of the tasks which I can control.   Laundry, the dishes, grocery shopping. . .a few which immediately come to mind. As for the rest, I will have to try my best and go with the flow.

I recently read another Buddha story about an old man who accidentally fell into a river leading to a dangerous waterfall. Onlookers feared for his life. Miraculously, he came out alive and unharmed at the bottom of the falls. People asked him how he managed to survive. “I bent myself into the water, not the water to me. Without thinking, I allowed myself to be shaped by it. Plunging into the swirl, I came out with the swirl. This is how I survived.”

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Things could always be worse. . .

February 18, 2012 at 9:16 am | Posted in emergency room, Grief, life after loss, Love, mourning, venting | 6 Comments
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The other night I was talking to one of my favorite friends and she asked how everyone at my house was feeling.  I thought about it and cautiously answered, “Everyone is doing pretty well.”  And, I truly thought all was well, until 5 am the next morning.  I woke up to Evan asking me to go get some ice packs.  He had a bloody nose that would not stop.  I won’t go into the gory details but he was a mess.

This had happened once before a few weeks after Sawyer died.   Evan had come home from work and after a few hours he could still not stop the bloody nose.  He shocked me by asking me to call 911.  He was taken to the ER in an ambulance.   The bloody nose eventually stopped.

After Jake died I had this realization that anyone and everyone close to me could slip away at an instant.  Life had a new kind of uncertainty.  I even flipped out when our dog, Buddy, had to be sedated for a dental cleaning.  My very same favorite friend talked me down off the ledge as we waited at the vet.

Life seems so fragile. Maybe it was fragile before Jake and Sawyer died but I was oblivious.  After Evan’s first visit to the ER it was not hard for me to imagine the worst happening.  Only a few weeks before we had buried Sawyer.  Nothing is guaranteed.

After yesterday’s visit to the ER I found myself trying not to let my mind go to the worst places.  As I drove Evan from doctor to doctor I took deep breaths.  I reminded myself of what my grandfather always says when asked how he is feeling, “I could be better but things could always be worse.”

The doctors told us that based on Evan’s blood pressure we were very lucky that it was a bloody nose because there were far worse alternatives.  My mind had already played and replayed the worst of the alternatives.  Now I will do my best to focus on the present.  Unfortunately, Evan and I both know all too well that things could always be worse.  He will get better.

Evan holding Sawyer

Doctors

February 12, 2012 at 9:02 pm | Posted in Grief, hydrops, hydrops fetalis, venting | 13 Comments
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I have been going to the same primary care doctor for forever. I am not sure how many years forever is, but I know it predates my new normal.  The doctor who I usually saw retired before I had Jake. There have been so many other doctors in my life. Obstetricians, perinatologists, infertility specialists, therapists, pediatricians, cardiologists, pathologists, I could go on and on but you get the point. I have only gone to my primary doctor’s office a few times over the past several years. After the doctor I liked retired I would just go to whoever in the group could see me. Starting over with new doctors since Jake and Sawyer have died is emotional and complicated. Explaining my medical history feels extremely daunting.

I never considered switching until yesterday.  Yesterday I saw a doctor I will call “Dr. H.”  His office walls were covered with articles about his medical expertise along with framed awards and diplomas.  I made the appointment because despite my best efforts, I cannot seem to get rid of a persistent cough.  All I really wanted from Dr. H was a prescription.

As he looked into his computer at my file he seemed to be reading my history.  The subject of Jake and Sawyer came up.  Dr. H asked about depression and if my husband and I had looked into therapy.  I responded “I have got depression and therapy covered, thanks.”

Dr. H went on to comment about Jake.  “Ahh, seems that it was failure for nature to correct itself.”

I stared blankly at Dr. H, took my prescription and left. I now wish I had said something back to him but my mind could not process what he said till it was too late.  If nothing else, I should have responded with Ann Taintor’s perfect quote “Funny. . .I don’t recall asking for your opinion”.

As I walked out of the office I looked again at the diplomas on the wall.  Too bad Dr. H never took a compassion 101 course.

Planning

February 10, 2012 at 8:46 am | Posted in Cemetery, Death, Grief, life after loss, parents, traditions | 7 Comments

The day has arrived, as I knew it would – Sawyer’s headstone is here. And it is 100% correct. Although I will never think that it is right that we have 2 headstones for our children in the first place.

 “The difference between fiction and reality? Fiction has to make sense.”  – Tom Clancy

Evan met me at the cemetery and we discussed what we should do next. Planning an unveiling is not going to be on anyone’s top 10 fun things to do list – but we are going to give it a try. I want so badly to be planning a play date for Sawyer –  not this. I know that we do not have to do it. There are no rules saying that we must have an unveiling.

I know in my gut that I will regret it if we do not have the unveiling. We will not plan birthday parties, play dates, gym classes, summer camps – the list is so very long of the things we will not plan and do for Sawyer. This we can do.

     When you look back on your life, you’ll regret the things
you didn’t do more than the ones you did.  -H. Jackson Brown, Jr.  

Things People Say (part 2)

February 6, 2012 at 10:20 pm | Posted in life after loss, life lessons, normal?, twins | 7 Comments
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In my last post I should have included the fact that I am positive I have said, written or done the wrong things at the wrong times.  Almost every time I call my father-in-law, who is a recent widower, I cannot seem to stop myself from starting the conversation with, “How are you?” I try to rephrase the question as soon as it comes out of my mouth but it is always too late.

Over the weekend, I found myself in a conversation with a woman who is thinking about starting infertility treatments.  I feel like I have earned a masters (or at least an honorary degree) in infertility.   At first I started to tell her about the injectables, IUIs and the IVFs.  Luckily, my brain kicked in before I opened my mouth.

I thought back to my life before the twins were born.  Jake had died.  There was no “your baby died, now you get a baby free pass” for me and Evan.  Eventually we boarded the infertility rollercoaster.   The sadness and desperation were all-consuming.  Every month seemed like an eternity.

My friend was in pain and did not need to hear about my depths of despair.  So, instead of sharing my war stories I gave her the phone number of my doctor.  Then I told her if she ever felt like talking I would always be here to listen.

There seem to be endless opportunities in life to say the wrong thing.  It is hard to put yourself in someone else’s shoes and separate out your own feelings.  We all have different experiences.  We start from a variety of places.  Who is to judge what is right and what is wrong?  All we can do is try our best.

If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.
If you want to be happy, practice compassion.
                                                                      ~Dalai Lama

After I did have the twins one of my favorite friends sent me the link to the video below.  It makes me smile so I thought I would share.

The Things People Say . . .

February 2, 2012 at 9:46 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons | 12 Comments
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After Jake died people did not know what to say.   There would be a lot of awkward conversations which would start like this:

“He is in a better place.” 

OR,

“He would have had a difficult life.”

Followed by me either not responding at all or starting to cry.

After the twins were born one of the conversations I can recall started with, “Oh how great, you got your boy back.”  

More silence and crying from me.

After Sawyer died there were more statements similar to these –  most of which are not worth repeating, writing down or remembering.  At first, the comments would make me even sadder (which I did not think was possible).  Then the comments made me mad.  Somewhere along the way I decided that people did not mean to hurt me.  They just have no idea what to say.  Sometimes they just say whatever comes to mind first.  Or, they try to relate to Jake and/or Sawyer’s deaths with an experience of their own – or something that happened to their neighbor’s 2nd cousin.

I try to believe that people always have the best intentions no matter what actually comes out of their mouths.

I will confess, at times I have wished for a taser to silence people before they say stupid things. 

Thank you to Tiffany and Mary for posting this video because it pretty much says it all.

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