The Best Ever Big Brother and Sister
April 14, 2013 at 10:22 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life after loss, Love, Sawyer, twins | 8 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, family, life after loss, new not so normal, parenthood, perspective, thoughts, twins, unexplainable
Recently, the twins have started to read. Gone are the days when Evan and I are the only readers of bed time books.
When I was pregnant with Sawyer I bought the twins “Best Ever Big Brother” and “Best Ever Big Sister.” I bought the books to help with the adjustment of having a new sibling. The twins have always known about their big brother Jake but they never met him.
After Sawyer died I thought I had taken the books out of their room and put them away. I apparently did not because the other night the twins dug up the “best ever” books.
As I was putting away their clean clothes, the twins each read their version of the “best ever” books. I could not move as my already shattered heart broke just a bit more every time one of twins read the lines meant for Sawyer, “One day you’ll be big like me.”
My tears over hearing those books read overshadowed my pride that the twins are actually reading by themselves.
Once again, I am reminded that I lead a double life. I am here with the twins and Evan. Then there is the other part of me who is on planet my baby died with Jake and Sawyer. I try to keep my double life in balance. I try my best to stay present with the twins but Jake and Sawyer are always with me too. Most of the time it works but sometimes the balance just breaks.
Names in the Sand: Jake and Sawyer on Christian’s Beach
April 8, 2013 at 12:02 am | Posted in Grief, Jake, Love, Sawyer | 5 CommentsTags: child loss, Christian's Beach, death of a baby, gratitude, life after loss, Names in the Sand, new not so normal, ways to honor the memory of your child
I am forever grateful to Carly Marie. This past week she wrote Jake and Sawyer’s names in the sand on Christian’s beach in Western Australia.
Carly Marie began writing names in the sand after her son, Christian, died. And so began Carly Marie’s Project Heal. She writes “it is a simple act that recognizes a life. It gives something beautiful to a family that may only have a few memories of their child – or even none at all.”
If you or someone you know would like to request a name be written on Christian’s Beach click here. The wait list is closed right now but she will post when it will open.
Thank you again Carly Marie!
“At the end of the day all the children of heaven come together to paint the colours of the sunset”
– Carly Marie Dudley
Silence
March 30, 2013 at 10:03 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss, Love, normal? | 15 CommentsTags: Jake, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, Sawyer, thoughts, twins, unexplainable
There are times when I am at a loss for words. People talk to me. And, I can not respond. At all. Here are a few examples:
- At work the other day someone asked my opinion about his home computer. I said my answer depends on who uses the computer. He went on to talk about his wife, his school age daughter and 5-year-old twins. I said I have 5-year-old twins too. Once the words came out of my mouth I wanted to take them back. I knew his next question before he asked it.
“Are the twins your only 2?”
“They are our only 2 at home.”
“Oh, so does your husband have kids from a previous marriage?”
“No.”
“Do you have kids from a previous marriage?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Silence. More silence.
- I am at the doctor. A nurse notices the scar tissue from my c-sections.
She asks “How old is your youngest child?”
I do not respond at all.
She tries again,”When was your last c-section?”
Tears silently stream down my face as I say “November 17, 2009.”
The nurse in response to my tears, “You must really not feel well.”
I try to respond but no words come out of my mouth.
- I am on a very bumpy flight with the twins (and without Evan). I am turning green.
An extremely kind stewardess offers me a drink of water and then proceeds to tell me about another mother flying alone with her 4 kids.
She is just trying to make me feel better.
After the stewardess finishes telling us about the air sick mother of 4, the twins start to whisper to each other.
Then they start to loudly whisper to me. “Tell her about Jake and Sawyer.”
I do not say anything. I listen as the twins tell the poor sweet stewardess about their dead brothers.
Sometimes I wish I really did know Scotty and he could beam me up.
Life
March 24, 2013 at 12:14 am | Posted in Grief, life lessons, Love, normal? | 4 CommentsTags: child loss, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, quotes, thoughts
Yesterday
March 4, 2013 at 11:07 pm | Posted in after death?, Cemetery, Grief, life after loss | 12 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death, death of a baby, family, grandparents, Jewish customs, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective
Yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of Evan’s mom’s death. It was also the day of the unveiling of her headstone. She had asked that this poem be read:
To Those Whom I Love And Those Who Love Me
written by Mary Alice Ramish
When I am gone, release me, let me go
I have so many things to see and do
You must not tie yourself to me with tears
Be happy that I have had so many years
I gave you my love, you can only guess
How much you gave me in happiness
I thank you for the love you each have shown
But now it is time I travelled on alone
So grieve a while for me, if grieve you must
Then let your grief be comforted by trust
It is only for a while that we must part
So bless the memories within your heart
I will not be far away, for life goes on
So if you need me, call and I will come
Though you cannot see or touch me, I will be near
And if you listen with your heart, you will hear
All of my love around you soft and clear
Then, when you must come this way alone
I will greet you with a smile and say welcome home
We placed stones on her grave. Evan and I had brought stones from Sawyer and Jake’s headstone.
I am so lucky to have had her as my mother-in-law. I will always be here to tell the twins stories about their amazing Mom Mom. I know I wrote in my last post that I bargained my life (and Evan’s) but it was never with the intention of leaving the twins. I was just a desperate mother who wanted the impossible.
Silent and Stuck
February 18, 2013 at 10:30 pm | Posted in Anniversaries, Grief, Jake, life lessons, Sawyer, why I write | 13 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, holidays are hard, life after loss, moving forward, new not so normal, perspective
Sawyer was born right before Thanksgiving and died Christmas night. So, since he died the holidays have been especially hard. If I am honest with myself the holidays have been excruciatingly difficult since Jake died. Pretty much November, December and most of August (the anniversaries of Jake’s birth and death) are not my favorite times of year.
Life is a roller coaster. I definitely got that message. On a roller coaster there are usually some ups after the downs. However, this year after the anniversary of Sawyer’s death there was no up. My grandfather died. My cousin’s partner lost her battle to breast cancer. Funeral. Shiva. Unveiling. Family drama.
Evan is fine now but had a few health issues that once again shook me to my core. I have been stuck. There might not be an up in sight but I have to keep moving forward.
Maybe
January 24, 2013 at 11:48 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief, life lessons, normal? | 5 CommentsTags: baby loss, Buddha, child loss, death of a baby, grief, hope, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, Sawyer, twins, unexplainable
Maybe (Taoist story)
There is a Taoist story of an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.
“Maybe,” the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it 3 other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.
“Maybe,” replied the old man. The next day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. “Maybe,” answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. “Maybe,” said the farmer.
After Sawyer died, one of Evan’s friends came over to see us. Those days were such a blur that I do not remember his exact words but I will try to give you the basic gist. He explained that sometimes things happen and we do not see or understand why at the time. We may never understand why but the fact that Sawyer died could influence someone or something in the future.
I, of course, responded that I will never understand why.
He went on to say that some events need to be looked at in different ways.
I again responded that I have examined and reexamined every angle of Sawyer’s death and could not find anything except for earth shattering pain, emptiness and never ending darkness.
However, he continued to make his point in a way that I could actually accept. He gave the example that when the twins grow up that their experience of Sawyer dying could impact them beyond my initial thoughts of how they would grow up without their baby brother. They could be perhaps go on to discover a cure for whatever caused Sawyer’s death. In that moment I grasped the fact that something good could possibly result from Sawyer dying. Maybe, just maybe.
Stuff
January 16, 2013 at 9:16 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life after loss, normal? | 6 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, grandparents, grief, Jake, life after loss, new not so normal, Sawyer
Very often “get rid of clutter” is at the top of my to do list. Okay, sometimes I put it at the top of Evan’s to do list. I am overwhelmed by the piles of paper, toys, laundry, and stuff in general which seems to fill up the world. However, there is some clutter that I just cannot part with. The hospital bracelets from Jake’s tiny ankles, the smallest “sunglasses” which covered his sensitive eyes, every little thing that touched his body came home with us.
Sawyer had a lot more stuff. Right after he died we packed up, donated or got rid of most of the things he never wore or used. The things he did wear and use stayed on a shelf. Year after year Sawyer’s stuff did not move. Except for the sock.
I recently went on a business trip and when I got home Sawyer’s stuff was not on the shelf. I backed out of the room and went in again. It was still not there. I yelled for Evan. He calmly explained that he moved it. Just like that. He moved it to the same place where Jake’s stuff is kept.
Logically, I know that it is all just stuff but these are the only things that we will ever have that were Jake’s and Sawyer’s. I thought about these things as I threw out garbage bag after garbage bag of stuff as I helped to clean out my grandfather’s home. Why did I find it so easy, even therapeutic, to throw away his things?
I decided that my lifetime of memories with my grandfather made all the material things not necessary. I do not need stuff to remember him.
On the other hand, I had such a short time with Jake and Sawyer. There are not so many memories or stories to tell. So, I will hold onto the stuff that I can.
Reality Bites
January 8, 2013 at 10:54 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, normal? | 9 CommentsTags: child loss, grandparents, grief, holidays, life after loss, new not so normal, Sad, thoughts
Today it has been 1 week since I held my grandfather’s hand as he took his last breaths. He is no longer suffering. The funeral is over. He was 100. His death was not a shock. Death is part of life. I repeat these statements to myself several times a day. So, why do I still feel like I am walking around in an alternate universe?
Evan, the twins and I have returned to work, school and life in general.
People ask “How were your holidays?” I want to scream, my grandfather died on New Years Day. Sawyer died the day after Christmas 3 years ago. I officially hate the holidays!!! However, I instead take a deep breath and respond, “Fine, how were yours?”
My thoughts are scattered. It took me less than 1 day to lose the new insurance card Evan handed to me. I got lost driving somewhere I go almost every week.
I am figuring out another new normal.
Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.






