Miscarriage
May 28, 2012 at 10:28 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss, normal?, pregnancy | 18 CommentsTags: bed rest, child loss, death of a baby, grief, hope, miscarriage, mom, perspective, post traumatic stress disorder, Sad
The doctor who told me that I was most likely having a miscarriage put me on bed rest for a few days. Bed rest for me equals time where my thoughts can take over any rational part of my brain and run wild. Bed rest means that I can not resort to my usual defense of keeping so busy that I do not have time to think.
I cried on the couch as I watched the twins play. I was so lucky that my mom was able to come to town. I told her that she did not need to come. I knew by the time I spoke to her that no amount of bed rest was going to help. She said she wanted to come anyway. I did not argue.
I thought writing about it in my last post would somehow help. I reread my post and it turns out that I did not actually write what happened. So here it is, I had a miscarriage.
I will be fine. I will continue to get up and live just as I have every day, week, month and now years since Jake and Sawyer have died.
Planning & Hoping
May 22, 2012 at 10:40 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons | 20 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, drugs & doctors, hope, infertility, life after loss, miscarriage, post traumatic stress disorder, unexplainable
Many doctors told me that I could not get pregnant again after Jake had died. We tried clomid, letrozole, IUIs and eventually IVFs. We went to several infertility specialists in town and then flew to New York to get yet another opinion. The doctor we ultimately had the twins with was so sure that I would not get pregnant that Evan and I nicknamed him Dr. Doom and Gloom.
We shocked ourselves and Dr. Doom when I had the twins. We went back to Dr. Doom when we were trying again. He again told us that we had little to no chance. Again, we surprised everyone when we had Sawyer.
Evan and I did not think it was possible to get pregnant on our own until a few months ago. I was late and thought to myself there is not a chance in the world I am pregnant without the assistance of lots of drugs and doctors. However, there it was . . . the 2 pink lines on the pregnancy test.
I showed Evan the pink lines. We both just stared at each other. We were happy. Very, very happy. In all honesty, I did not believe that it could really be true. After Jake and then Sawyer died there is always a part of me which expects the worst but I try to hope for the best. There are so many stories of people who get pregnant after years of infertility. I thought maybe just maybe this could be happening.
Until I started to bleed. Evan and I went to the OB. He confirmed that yes I was pregnant but I was most likely having a miscarriage. He asked if this baby was planned. I wanted to shout that we had not planned for this baby but then again we had not planned on burying 2 of our sons. Instead, Evan came up with the perfect answer, “We were not planning but hoping.”
Frog & Toad
May 20, 2012 at 11:50 pm | Posted in Grief, twins | 7 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, Jake, post traumatic stress disorder, Sawyer, twins, unexplainable
“What is the matter, Toad? You are looking sad.”
“Yes,” said Toad. “This is my sad time of day.”
Frog and Toad are Friends by Arnold Lobel
After Sawyer died I cried a lot in front of the twins. They were 2 1/2 year olds at the time and did not ask too many questions about my tears. Now, over 2 years later, the twins ask questions about everything and I rarely cry in front of them. The sadness is still there but I have better control over it. Every once in a while it gets the best of me and the tears leak out against my will. Today was one of those days. I know it is not just today – it has been creeping up on me over the last few months.
I know that there will be other days when the tears take over. It is ok to be sad but it is also ok to be happy. If not for me than for them.
Purple & Sparkly
May 12, 2012 at 10:14 am | Posted in Anniversaries, Grief, Love, silver lining | 10 CommentsTags: 5th birthday, cancer, child loss, death, favorite friends, hope, Jake, Maddie Sphor, Rockstar Ronan, Sad, Sawyer, unexplainable
Some time after Jake died one of my favorite friends and college roommate suggested that I read the blog The Sphors Are Multiplying. Years later and some time after Sawyer died another of my favorite friends suggested that I read another blog, Rockstar Ronan. At that time I could barely deal with our own sad story let alone read about the deaths of Maddie Sphor and Rockstar Ronan. I am not sure when but some time along the way I realized that I needed to see/read how other parents survive the deaths of their children. It helps me to read how they are continuing their lives while always remembering and honoring their children. I wish no parent had to live in a world without their child/children. This is not the reality and unfortunately the Club continues to add members.
Today would have been Ronan’s 5th birthday. I hate that he is not here to celebrate.
Once Upon a Playdate
May 10, 2012 at 10:00 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss, silver lining, twins | 4 CommentsTags: child loss, home, hope, Jake, motherhood, parenthood, perspective, playdate, Sawyer, twins
“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Elizabeth Stone
I was not able to prevent Jake or Sawyer’s deaths. As their mother, I thought I could/should be able to protect them from anything and everything. I was wrong. I try my best to keep the twins as safe as possible. I know that just like with Jake and Sawyer I will not be able to shelter them from anything and everything. It is a work in progress . . .
There once was a little boy who would talk on and on about his friend, G. He thought about having a playdate with her but was not quite sure he was ready for his mom to make the call to set it up. Then one day G’s mom and the little boy’s mom made a plan to play after school.
After he found out about the plan, the little boy would wake up every morning and anxiously ask, “Is today the day that G is coming over to play?”
Finally the big day arrived. At school, there was a field trip to a park. The little boy’s mom was one of the drivers. On the playground, the little boy ran up to his mom and sadly declared, “G changed her mind and she is not coming over to play today.” The little boy’s twin sister came running up right behind him and just for emphasis yelled “G is NOT coming over ever.”
The little boy’s mother tried to say comforting things like, “maybe G will change her mind” and “if G does not come over today we will find another day for a playdate.” The little boy folded his arms over his chest and sadly said, “Mama, this is the worstest day ever.”
The field trip ended and all the children went back to school. The little boy asked G again if she would come over for the playdate. She responded that should would never ever come over.
The little boy’s mom tried unsuccessfully to think of an extra special treat for the afternoon. Pick up time arrived and G hopped into her car. The little boy unhappily watched her as she climbed into her minivan. The little boy’s mom as a last-ditch effort went over to G’s car before it drove out of the carpool line. G smiled at the little boy’s mom. G climbed out of her car seat and said, “I think I would like to go on that playdate now.”
And they played happily ever after.
The Triathlon
May 6, 2012 at 10:30 pm | Posted in Grief | 25 CommentsTags: bittersweet, death, death of a baby, grief, life after loss, new not so normal, post traumatic stress disorder, triathlon
This weekend I swam, biked and ran. My only real goal was to finish in one piece and hopefully have some fun along the way. As I raced I realized that grief (or my experiences with it so far) is a lot like a triathlon.
Getting into the cool water is shocking and sudden. Keep moving – no matter what chaos or fogginess has set in, the only solution is forward motion.
“There is nothing left we can do for Jake.”
“Baby is not breathing.”
Next, there is bawling and bargaining. After the shock wears off a bit there are lots and lots of tears.
I would have traded places with Jake and Sawyer if it was humanly possible. I stared at the hospital walls and pleaded that it was me not them.
There are downhills and some coasting but there is always a hill up ahead. Shifting gears helps at times but not always.
Lastly, reality sets in but it is not the same reality as before – the shock has turned to sadness and the bawling has become bittersweetness. The bargaining is done.
My goal is still the same, to finish in one piece and hopefully have some fun along the way.
Help
May 2, 2012 at 10:18 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief, life after loss, life lessons, normal?, twins | 23 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, hope, Jake, new not so normal, quotes, Sawyer, siblings
Aibileen, from The Help, whispers this quote in Mae Mobley’s ear every day so she will understand that she is special. Are there words which I can whisper into my toddlers’ ears that will help them understand about their brothers?
The other day I was driving the twins and listening to their conversation. They were discussing one of their friend’s new baby sister. The conversation went something like this:
“We have babies too.”
“Our babies are not growing.”
“They are flowers.”
“Flowers grow. So, our babies are growing.”
“Mama, what kind of flowers are Jake and Sawyer?”
A long silence from me. I finally come up with, “want to go to the new playground?”
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