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.
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.
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?”
Random H’s
April 20, 2012 at 6:50 pm | Posted in life after loss, parents, silver lining, twins | 9 CommentsTags: child loss, dogs, grandparents, hair, hope, humor, March of Dimes, new not so normal, random, songs
Hugs:
Hugs
How To. . .:
Hairdos:
Happy Hairdo
Hairdos - A & Uwannabun
Hounds:
Hounds
Hope:
March of Dimes 2011
What I Need
April 14, 2012 at 11:12 pm | Posted in Death, life after loss, mourning, normal? | 19 CommentsTags: autism, child loss, Jake, March of Dimes, new not so normal, perspective, premature birth, Sawyer
I am not always able to adequately articulate my feelings. Jake and Sawyer’s deaths have often left me feeling alone and misunderstood. Sometimes I read something and it is exactly how I think and feel. Reading Four Plus An Angel by Jessica, often leaves me with that reaction. Jessica, writes beautifully about her life without her daughter Hadley.
What I Need by Jessica
I need to say her name without bringing everyone to tears.
I need her life to be included in the count of children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews.
I need kindness on birthdays and understanding on holidays.
I need to stay in bed and a reason to get out of it.
I need to talk endlessly and to let the phone ring.
I need an extra hug and respect for my space.
I need someone to ask how I’m doing and want to know the real answer.
I need careful announcements of pregnancies, baby showers and births, mine did not turn out as I hoped.
I need a “handle with care” sticker for my heart, my emotions have been fragile since the day I said goodbye.
I need patience and reminders for my mind, part of it will always be somewhere else.
I need forgiveness for not being the friend, sister, daughter and wife I used to be.
But more than anything I need you…
your support, your friendship, your understanding…
a lifetime is an impossibly long time to wait to hold my child again.
Two other impressive things going on at Four Plus An Angel:
- Jessica is also an advocate for autism. She has a very cool project going on during April, Autism Awareness month. Jessica is asking for a picture of you or someone you know or love who has autism, holding up a message they would like the world to know about autism. For more details on the project and where to send pictures click here.
- Jessica, like our family, supports the March of Dimes. She is very close to her goal and I am hoping that she makes it. Click on the button below to donate to Jessica’s team.
Running with the Rosebuds
March 20, 2012 at 10:48 pm | Posted in after death?, life after loss, Love, normal?, twins | 7 CommentsTags: Charlie, child loss, cystic fibrosis, hope, life after loss, perspective
Last weekend the twins ran in a race to support Cystic Fibrosis. One of my brother’s best friends, Charlie, had CF. Cystic fibrosis is an inherited, chronic disease that affects the lungs and digestive system of about 30,000 individuals in the United States, and 70,000 people worldwide. In the 1950s, few children with cystic fibrosis lived to attend elementary school. Today, advances in research and medical care have enhanced and extended the lives of children and adults with CF. Many people with the disease can expect now to live into their 30s, 40s and beyond.
Charlie’s parents were told that he would not live to be a teenager. He beat the odds and he did live past his teens, twenties and into his thirties. Charlie was an amazing person who inspired all who were lucky enough to know him. I hope that Jake and Sawyer have somehow been able to meet Charlie.
Both Evan and his sister have been diagnosed with lung diseases which CF research could potentially one day help.
Click here to see the twins race warm up.
Surprise it is Spring
March 18, 2012 at 5:34 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life after loss, normal? | 9 CommentsTags: dark days, post traumatic stress disorder, Sad, twins
“And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on. But on you will go though the weather be foul . . .”
Dr. Seuss
Spring is here. The days are sunnier. I feel quite the opposite of sunny. This journey of life and grief always brings dark dark days. At times I wish I could just disappear into the darkness. I cannot. So, I put on my sunglasses and follow these 2 out into the big world.
Things could always be worse. . .
February 18, 2012 at 9:16 am | Posted in emergency room, Grief, life after loss, Love, mourning, venting | 6 CommentsTags: dark days, family, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, post traumatic stress disorder
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
Planning
February 10, 2012 at 8:46 am | Posted in Cemetery, Death, Grief, life after loss, parents, traditions | 7 CommentsThe 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.
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