Telling the Twins

March 26, 2011 at 11:50 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, silver lining, twins | 8 Comments
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We did not have too much time to figure out how to tell the twins that Sawyer died.  I went with whatever came out of my mouth first.  Evan and I did have some time to figure out what we would tell the twins when Evan’s mom died.  Below are some options that we could have told the twins when talking to the twins about Jake, Sawyer and Evan’s mom:

  1. We lost Jake.  We lost Sawyer.  We lost Mom Mom.  They are not lost.  I knew where Jake and Sawyer were every minute they were alive.  I know where they are now that they have died. On a separate point,  if they were lost –  I would have found them by now (if I had not found them, some one should report me to family services and/or the police).
  2. Jake, Sawyer and Mom Mom went to sleep.  We all go to sleep.  Some of us take longer to go to sleep than others.  No need to make going to sleep scary for the twins.
  3. Jake was sick.  Sawyer was sick.  Mom Mom was sick.  Jake was premature.  We still do not know what happened to Sawyer.  Mom Mom had cancer.  We did tell the twins that Mom Mom was sick and the medicine she took no longer worked.
  4. Jake, Sawyer and Mom Mom passed away.  I used this option quite a bit when Jake first died.  However, when I spoke to the twins about death – “passed away” did not seem quite right anymore. 

We told the twins that Mom Mom died.  We told them that she had been sick for a long time.  The medicine no longer worked.  They both looked at us.  Our daughter asked, “Where is Mom Mom?”  Before either of us could answer, she said, “Oh, I know Mom Mom is with Sawyer and Jake.”   Evan and I could not have given them a more perfect answer. 

Buddha’s Stories & Stomach Bugs

March 18, 2011 at 5:46 pm | Posted in Grief, silver lining | 9 Comments
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I have been having trouble writing.  In fact, I have had trouble concentrating on anything at all.  I know this is partly because I cannot seem to get the twins back on a normal schedule.  I do not know if they are off because we have been away, daylight savings time or a stomach bug.  Regardless of the reason, there have been some bumpy days (and nights) at our house.

In one of my attempts to avoid the meltdowns of 2 cranky 3 year olds I grabbed a book.  It turned out to be the Kindness A Treasury of Buddhist Wisdom for Children and Parents by Sarah Conover.  We were sent many books after Jake and then after Sawyer died.  At the time I could not read most of those books.  However, the other afternoon I found myself reading these short stories to the twins.  One of the stories was about a woman named Kisa Gotami.  The following is a cliff notes version of the story:

After losing her only child, Kisa Gotami became desperate and asked if anyone could help her. Her sorrow was so great that many thought she had already lost her mind. Someone told her to find Buddha. Buddha told her that before he could bring the child back to life, she should find mustard seeds from a family where no one had died. She desperately went from house to house, but to her disappointment, she could not find a house that had not suffered the death of a family member.

Kisa returned to speak with Buddha and he asked for the mustard seed.  Kisa replied, “I am done looking for the mustard seed.  I know that in the whole city, in the whole world, there is not one family, not one person, free from the certainty of death.  It is the way of all living things – we must at some time leave one another.”

Kisa went on to say, “I felt terribly alone in my grief, but now I know that there are many others who have lost what they most cherished.  We must help each other.”

Buddha helped Kisa come to terms with bereavement.  He taught her compassion.  I do not know that I will ever understand why Jake and Sawyer predeceased me or why Evan’s mom died so young.  Maybe it is so that I will learn to be more compassionate.  Maybe it is so that I will help others.  Maybe I will never know. 

I do know that I will keep reading this book.  Who knows, Buddha could have some wisdom to share about bumpy days/nights and stomach bugs.

Rainbows, Rite Aid & Readjusting

March 1, 2011 at 10:54 pm | Posted in Grief, silver lining, twins | 8 Comments
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It takes both the sun and the rain to make a beautiful rainbow.

These last few days it is difficult to see the sun.  As I mentioned in this post, we are spending time with Evan’s mom.  The good moments are fewer and farther apart.  I know that life has sun and rain.  I so wish I could write more about sunny times.   Even through the rain the twins can find the sun.  Here they are at Rite Aid:

The twins can also scout out the rainbows.

They spent a long time searching for rainbows in these crystal figurines.  Turns out flashlights combined with just the right amount of sunlight produce a lot of rainbows. 

The oil slick in the parking lot of Rite Aid.  I could have debated it is not truly a rainbow but pollution.  I did not because I have learned that I usually lose those kind of debates with our 3 1/2 year-olds.

The rainbow glasses at Mom Mom and Pop Pop’s house.

I have always hoped for miracles. 

After Jake was born at 26 weeks with hydrops, I hoped he would be among the 30% of babies who survive these enormous obstacles.  There was no miracle.

The horrible night we brought Sawyer to the emergency room, I hoped for the miracle that it would all be an awful mistake.  There was no miracle.

I now know that there will be no miracle that will give Evan’s mom back the life she had.  It is time for me to readjust what I am hoping for.

More Magic Moments

February 24, 2011 at 4:58 pm | Posted in Grief, mother, silver lining | 15 Comments
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As I wrote in this post,  I try to appreciate good moments.  For the past 2 weeks Evan, the twins and I have been at Evan’s mother’s house.  My amazing mother-in-law was diagnosed with breast cancer 18 years ago.   She was on a form of oral chemo through the spring of 2003.  At that time the cancer came back in her bones.  Since 2005 she has had chemo 3 weeks on and 1 week off.  She had beaten all the odds until this year.

We are here spending time with her.  It is not easy but worth it.  Every day there are some good moments.   A rabbi has been coming to the house.  She explained a Hebrew term called “yikar.”  There is no exact translation but it means “treasure” or “gem.”   I try to etch these moments into my memory so that I will always have them.

I cannot help but think of precious moments we had with Jake and Sawyer.  All of Jake’s time with us was in the NICU but there were some good moments.  The days when Jake was doing well and reducing his reliance on the ventilators.  The day that I was able to change Jake’s diaper for the first (and only) time.  I always smile when I think of the one and only time Evan changed Jake.  Jake peed on his dad.

We were lucky enough to have more magic moments with Sawyer.  Among my favorites are bringing him home from the hospital and introducing him to the twins.  Evan’s mom was not able to meet Sawyer.  The weekend that they were supposed to visit was the weekend that the twins got sick.  Her immune system was compromised and we could not take a chance that the twins would get her sick.  The trip was postponed.  Sawyer died before they were able to visit.

One day last week it was unseasonably warm.  Evan’s mom was able to sit on the back deck.  She was able to visit with some friends.  The twins played in the snow and mud.  I will try to focus on the yikar – the treasured moments that we are able to capture.

Life with Sawyer

December 8, 2010 at 11:38 pm | Posted in silver lining, twins | 8 Comments
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Once Sawyer was home from the hospital the twins were fascinated him.   Meanwhile, Evan and I tried to figure out how to manage life with a newborn and 2 1/2-year-old twins.  

The moment Sawyer cried one of them would run to get his pacifier.  The twins would always make sure that he was covered with at least a blanket if not other things. . .


A very wise and close friend advised me and Evan that at our wedding we should stop every once in a while and just enjoy the moment.   I thought our wedding would go by very quickly and it did.   I did not think that our time with Sawyer would be so quick.   I wish I had stopped to just enjoy more moments with Sawyer.

Home from the hospital

December 1, 2010 at 4:04 pm | Posted in silver lining, transient tachypnea, twins | 6 Comments
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The rest of our stay in the hospital was uneventful.  Sawyer stayed in the room with us.  He and I both got checked out every day.  The doctors and nurses reassured us that transient tachypnea was common in c-section babies and that Sawyer was healthy.  In fact, I asked anyone who walked into my room about transient tachypnea.  If the person I was asking had heard of it before the answer was the same.  It is not life threatening.  It is common.  Sawyer would be fine.   

We were both released to go home on that Saturday.  My parents had been staying with the twins.  I had never been away from them for so long.  I could not wait to get home and introduce Sawyer to his big brother and big sister.

Bringing Sawyer home

Sawyer is home!

Once we were home I had allowed myself to enter back into the land of believing that everything would be ok.  Sawyer was perfect.  He was a full term baby.  He had been released from the NICU.  He was fine.

A certain innocence was lost after Jake’s diagnosis and death.  The belief that I had that I would get married, have children and live happily ever after was shattered.  I can’t say exactly when but some time after Jake’s death I began to have hope again.  I hoped for days that were not so dark.  I hoped for more children.  Again, it did not take the path I thought it would but I did get pregnant with the twins and with Sawyer. 

I had convinced myself that if babies were not premature that they would live long happy lives.  I let myself hope and believe that we would raise Sawyer.  I had the false sense of security that Sawyer would lead a long happy life.  I let my guard down.  I let myself believe that we could not possibly bury another child.  Life could not be that cruel – could it?

Thanksgiving

November 25, 2010 at 10:04 pm | Posted in Death, silver lining | 10 Comments
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Last Thanksgiving we had just brought Sawyer home (I will go back and finish writing his story, I promise).  This Thanksgiving is bittersweet.  I suppose every day is bittersweet but holidays and anniversaries can be harder.   

I am so very thankful for family and friends who have stood by us during the best and worst of times of our lives.  I am certain that I would not be able to get through these days alone.

I am thankful for our silly twins and their father.  

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I am very thankful for the time that we did have with Jake and Sawyer.  However, there has always been more – I have had a feeling of gratitude that I have not been able to articulate since Jake passed away.  It is very hard to be grateful that your son (or now in our case sons) have died.  The feeling that I want to describe is that I have been so thankful that Jake and Sawyer never knew the hardships which life can bring.  I would give anything to have had them experience more of life than they did.  I was not successful with making that bargain.  Instead, I find comfort and I am thankful that all they ever knew in their too short lives was love.

Time can be Tricky (part 2)

November 14, 2010 at 11:02 am | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, silver lining | 10 Comments

“Time heals all wounds.”    Really, does it?   If it does, how much time?   It has been 5 years since Jake died and I am not healed.   Time certainly has changed my wounds but they are not gone.    Keeping busy helped me to live in a world without Jake.  The grief and the sadness were still always there but have become a part of me.   The twins brought and continue to bring happiness to my life but it does not take away the loss.  

Sawyer’s death in December, 2009 was not only devastating for the mere fact of losing Sawyer but it reopened the wounds from Jake’s death.   The pain of losing Sawyer is so excruciating at times that I cannot let myself think about it.   I put it away in a box and do not take it out.     I live in my land of denial and keep myself busy.   Toddler twins don’t leave too much free time so, often it is not a problem to stay in the land of denial.   I know that time will change this.   I will leave the land of denial more frequently and maybe one day I will not return to it.   However, it is impossible for me to believe there will come a time that I will be healed from losing my baby boys.   

As I wrote in this post, I try to stay present.   I repeat to myself  “remember the past, hope for the future but live in the present.”  It is just extremely difficult at times because the present does not include Sawyer or Jake.

Next Steps (2006)

November 8, 2010 at 7:58 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, silver lining | 1 Comment

January, 2006 made me realize I needed help.   We were already in therapy.   My family and friends could not help me.  I needed to help myself.  I had to figure out how to live in a world without Jake.

I very slowly came up with a plan.   My plan had several steps.  It would be revised, it would change and evolve.   (In December of 2009 it would be shattered)

1.   I needed to look for a full-time job.   Running my own business was not working.   I could not keep myself organized.  I could not concentrate.   I just wanted to wake up, get dressed and go to the same place every day. 

2.  Evan and I needed to find a support group.   Support groups were suggested to us several times.   However, up till this point I was not able to handle anyone else’s sad story.   I could barely deal with our own.   Now, I needed to see how other parents got up every morning after their child (or children) had died.

3.  The most frightening part of the plan – we started to talk about trying to have another baby.

Excerpt from Thoughts on Becoming a Mother (read at the 2006 Atlanta Walk to Remember)
 
Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that G-d leads me to, I will not be careless with my love. I will be a better mother for all that I have endured.
 
I am a better wife,
a better aunt,
a better daughter,
neighbor, friend and sister
because I have known pain.
 
I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.
I have prevailed.
I have succeeded.
I have won.
 
So now when others hurt around me,
I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort.
I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.
I listen.
 
And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely.
I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard. I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.
 
I have learned to appreciate life.
 
Yes I will be a wonderful mother.
– Author Unknown

Costco and Confusing Conversations

November 4, 2010 at 4:58 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mother, pregnancy, silver lining | 10 Comments

2 for 1

A new Costco opened near our house.   I took the twins shopping there the other day.   I put them into the cart.   As I pushed them along, I saw a family who used to be in our Gymboree class.  The mother and I were pregnant at the same time last year.  Our due dates were a few weeks apart.  

She was holding her 11 month old daughter.   She looked at me and she was trying to remember how she knew me.   She asked “Do I know you from music class?”.   I thought about running the other way but decided to just tell her that we were from her 3-year-old son’s Gymboree class.    She said “Right, we were both pregnant last fall.   Smart of you to leave the baby at home.”  

In my mind, I quickly go through the scenarios.    If I had responded with the following:

1.  “Yes, Sawyer is happily at home.   I have to go now so I can get home in time to feed him.”   She would wave goodbye and walk away with her baby.

2.  “No, Sawyer is not at home.    He passed away.”   She would also wave goodbye and walk away with her baby.

As desperately as I want to come home and feed Sawyer, I know it is not my reality.   I took a deep breath and calmly explained that he was not at home.   He had died.

Earlier this week we had another confusing conversation:

A woman was speaking to me and the twins in passing.   She mentioned her 1-year-old son.   As I wrote in this post the twins love babies.  The twins excitedly tell her about their baby brother.   I quietly explain that their brother passed away.

The woman then said to the twins,  “You will see your brother again.”

Smiling the twins quickly reply, “We see Sawyer now.  We bring him flowers.”

The woman tries again, “Well, he is in a better place.”

The twins answer, “Yes – we send him balloons.”

At this point, I walk away and the twins follow.   My head hurts.   I don’t know what to say to the twins or to the women in these conversations.   How do I explain what I do not understand?  Maybe I should just stay home.

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