Light a candle

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance  Day.

But isn't that every day for me?

Dear Conner and Ben,

The world creates a wave of light for all babies lost. We lit candles, this time with your sister. There is something mesmerizing about fire. It can spark life, it can kill. It can light up a room, it can burn it down. But the beauty of light draws us in. You boys are the light, the beauty, in my life. When life gets hard, I talk to you. I ask for your help. And I know you are with me, always. When life is at its happiest, I wish you were here. I talk to you. I ask you to be with us. And I know you are with me.

Your flame is eternal, your light shines everyday.

Love you to the moon and back,
Mommy

Infant Loss Awareness Month, Healing, and Moving

via Google

Ah, my neglected blog.

A few days ago, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month began. Like last year, I fully intend to immerse myself in Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief. Also like last year, instead of posting every day I will probably post every few days with multiple subjects. I am so thankful for this project, as it brings me back to this space to write and reflect about my boys. I am desperate for this time to write about them, as I feel as though I am moving so far from them.

Forgive me, though, as these posts will probably come late. I am frantically catching up with work, trying to finish my master's degree this month, and running after a very mobile Jordan. And I am doing this all while packing up our house.

We got a full price offer on our house. We jumped on it, of course. Our lawyer signed papers for us while we were out of the country. We close in four weeks.

I am so many conflicting emotions about this. We moved into our current home because Tim had residency requirements when we got his new job at the FD. We had to live in this city for 5 years, and we pretty much came kicking and screaming. We had just built our first home along the river, and a month after moving in Tim got the call from the FD with the job offer. He had to take it. So, as we were still unpacking, we put our brand-new house up for sale. We spent almost two years building it and only lived in it for 10 months.

So ever since we moved into our current home, I've been dreaming of leaving it. And now we are. We flew back home from vacation today, I walked into our home, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness came over me. While this was our second house, this was really where we built our lives together. Our first home saw our engagement, us bringing home our puppy, and then saw us leave. Our second home, the one we are in now, has seen so much more. It was our home when we got married. We had three kids in this house. It was where I planned not one, but two nurseries. It was the only home Conner and Ben (sort of) lived in. It was where family and friends brought food, hugs, and love when Conner and Ben died. We brought Jordan home here. We had Christmases here. Birthdays. Thanksgivings. I started my blog here. Four years here, and endless amounts of love has been shared in these walls.

We haven't found a new home yet. Well, that's not true. We did, and lost it to another offer. That's a long story... I'm really too heartbroken to get into it. But I know our forever home is waiting for us. I just hope we find it soon.

Moving on. Moving forward. Moving out.

THE 22 weeks

Is it me, or is my bump shrinking?

How far along? 22 weeks, the same week that I lost my baby Conner and my baby Ben.  I did not, like I usually do on Thursdays, wish this baby a happy 22 weeks.

What's happening with  baby?  I didn't anticipate how difficult this question would be. I realize now that I am going to be writing the last things that Conner and Ben were able to do in the womb. Lips, eyebrows, and eyelids are more distinct (and Conner had my eyelashes and Ben luckily had his father's). She is 11 inches, almost one pound.  She is covered in fine hair and taste buds are forming. She can feel touch.  I wonder if Conner and Ben realized it was me who was kissing their tiny foreheads. 

Total weight gain: I usually try to go off my scale, because I wear the same thing everytime I step on it, making my weight more reliable than the OB's scale.  My scale says I've only gained 5 pounds. For the first time ever, my OB's scale said the same thing - up five pounds.  Not much, but I'm sure that will change. I think I've lost weight since last week. 

Maternity clothes?  No, but my amazing husband did buy me maternity compression tights since edema has already started :(

Stretch marks? Nope.

Sleep: Insomnia.  I can't explain why - anxiety, missing the boys, dreading the next day and everything that has to be done... not sure.  It could also be because I am peeing ALL THE TIME. 

Miss Anything?  My baby boys, always. More so this week, if that is possible. 

Differences between Baby C and Conner and Ben at this point: This will be the last week I can answer this question.  Had I know how difficult and heartbreaking this would be for me, I would have never included this question in the first place.  But here it goes: baby girl is not up on my lungs yet, so I can breathe.  I have edema, which I didn't have with the boys (until I was in labor).  My skin is clearing up. I can definitely tell now that I was indeed bigger with the boys.  At first, my baby bump was right on par with the boys at the same gestational age and I was freaking out about being huge. The bump growth has slowed, where at this point with the boys I was growing rapidly. 

Best moment this week: This is going to sound weird, but the fact that yet again we couldn't get a 3d picture made me a little proud. She has her hands up in the air like a boxer. Then, when the nurse went to find her heartbeat via ultrasond, she couldn't find it for a few minutes because this little baby kept on moving. We found her heartbeat for a split second high up by my belly button, then it disappeared.  We found it a minute later by my hip bone, then we lost it again.  She's an acrobat. 

Difficulties this week:  Last night, I couldn't sleep.  I've been battling insomnia lately.  I thought about how Benjamin and Conner would miss their first Christmas this year, and cried.  I looked at their pictures on my phone, and I cried.  I memorized their faces for the millionth time, and cried. 

Movement:  Still kicking and rolling and punching like a pro. 

Food cravings/aversions:  I KNEW I shouldn't have bought Halloween candy before Halloween!  I've been slowly eating it all...

Symptoms: Swelling.  Oh, the swelling.  It's so early!  Right now, I can only fit into my yoga pants because my calves are so swollen (and my thighs a bit, too).  I really hope it doesn't get much worse! 

Looking forward to: Hopefully, a big shopping spree for baby girl when we reach 24 weeks. Tim is also buying crown molding for the nursery this weekend. I have mixed emotions about that.  I am excited for her nursery, but so sad to change what we have up for the boys.  We will be incorporating their things in her nursery though, and I'll post that in her nursery reveal.

"I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, saying ayo..."

The Capture Your Grief challenge is coming to an end. As I said in an earlier post, I stopped doing the challenge and got back to writing letters to my baby boys instead - writing to them is more therapuetic to me than anything else, and I think that is the point of the challenge anyway.  Hopefully this letter will help me get back to writing to them on a regular basis.

Dear baby boys, 

I am 22 weeks pregnant with your sister. Twenty-two weeks. It's so hard to believe that she is as big as you boys were when you were born.  I keep thinking of her as this little tiny baby, but really, she is big enough to cradle and hold in my arms. 

Everyday, I think of what it was like to hold you.  I was in awe of how perfectly you fit in my arms and how heavy you were.  I didn't expect to have so much weight in my arms, and I am so grateful that I had the chance to feel that. I hope I never forget those moments. 

At 22 weeks and 1 day, I went into labor with you.  At 22 weeks and 4 days, I gave birth to you.  This week is traumatic for me, but a very supportive blog reader once commented and told me that your little sister will do great with both of her brothers holding onto each of her hands.  I imagine that all the time now.  I don't want you to ever think you will be replaced.  Everytime I look at her, I will think of you both. 

Tomorrow is Halloween.  When I was pregnant with you, I thought it would be funny for all of us to dress up as breakfast foods.  Your daddy and I LOVE getting breakfast on Sundays, and it has become a kind of tradition.  I was going to make your daddy go as sausage because he would really kind of look like poop.  I'm not sure what you two would have been, but I'm guessing one of you would have been orange juice. 

I know this week is going to be incredibly hard to get through as we reach milestones with your sister that were our last with you, and then when we reach milestones with her that we never got with you. But I realize that my whole life will be like that from now on.  I am not okay with that.  I am not okay with the fact that I can only imagine what you boys would be like today... tomorrow... your first day of school.... your wedding day.  The only comfort I have, if any, is that you are happy in heaven and that someday, I will feel the weight of my little boys in my arms again. 

Love you to the moon and back,

Mom

21 weeks and I am freaking. out.

Loose fit pants feel so. damn. good. 

How far along? 21 weeks
What's happening with  baby?  Baby girl is about 10.5 inches long and is about the size of a carrot.  Hair is beginning to form, baby is digesting amniotic fluid, and bone marrow is making blood cells.
Total weight gain: Depends.. my scale says I've gained 6 pounds total.  I have no idea what is going on at my doctors office, because I dont remember what my initial weight was on their scale.  I think their scale says I gained a couple pounds more - so maybe 8.
Maternity clothes?  Surprisingly, no.  But I need to get on that soon so I don't stretch out my pre-pregnancy clothes!
Stretch marks? Nada
Sleep: Baby girl likes to keep me awake by playing Dance Dance Revolution.
Miss Anything?  Tequila.
Differences between Baby C and Conner and Ben at this point: Baby C is head down now, much like Baby B (Ben).  I think she is more active than the boys were, but it could be my mind playing tricks on me.
Best moment this week:  Seeing baby girl in 3d!  Well, kinda.  Ultrasound tech switched to 3d and baby C had her arm in front of her face, so we didn't get a good look.  Maybe next week?
Difficulties this week:  We are quickly approaching the 22.5 week mark when I gave birth to Conner and Benjamin.  I didn't anticipate that it would be this difficult.  Suddenly, everything I'm feeling feels like I could go into labor at any minute.  I stay up at night, thinking I'll miss contractions.  I google everything.  I am constantly trying to get her moving on video, so that I can have these precious moments saved just in case I lose her, too.
Movement:  We need to sign her up for a LOT of sports.
Food cravings/aversions:  Threw up pizza on Tuesday.  Turns out, my lactose intolerance is here to stay for this pregnancy.
Symptoms: See above.  No more dairy for this mama until baby girl is born.  I already have a list of foods I would like immediately delivered to my room after I give birth.
Looking forward to: Getting past 22 weeks.  If I can.

They grow up so fast, don't they? 

As for my Capture Your Grief catch-up (days 20-23), I'm cheating a little bit.  Well, not really.  Part of the challenge is that there are no rules - you don't have to participate every day. The other day, I realized how limited I was when someone gave me a topic to write about.  Sometimes my mind just keep running with thoughts about my boys and those are the thoughts - the free ones - that affect me the most in terms of my "healing" process.

I opened the door to their nursery and took the time to look around, much like I always do.  Like many times before, I stared at the wide open space on their nursery floor.  In my head, two little boys were learning how to sit up.  They were laughing at each other and trying to reach out to touch each other, excited by the fact that they could sit unassisted.  They tried to talk to each other, but instead only baby bubbles came out.  They were happy in this simplicity.

I do the same thing when my husband and I sit in our family room in the evening, channel surfing.  I stare at the open floor by the bookcase, near the stairs.  I imagine two little boys, sometimes in their bouncers, sometimes in walkers, sometimes sitting up.  I imagine them trying to walk.  No matter what the scenario, they are always laughing -with each other and at each other. They try to take toys away from each other.  They giggle when they are successful.  One cries and the other looks at his brother curiously.  What's wrong, brother?  Here, take my pacifier.

Every time I do this - at least a few times a week, sometimes daily - I have to hold back tears.  I can barely even write all of this down without wanting to cry. Today someone congratulated me on our baby girl and told me "everything happens for a reason."  Let's get one thing straight.  My boys did not die for this.  There was no good reason for them to go so soon.  People think well, you wouldn't be having her unless you lost them.  Well, who says?  Why couldn't I have had all three?  All of a sudden, everyone is God's secretary and they know what He is up to.

I love my baby girl.  I love my baby boys.  I hope she comes home with us, but if she does, it won't make everything okay again.  My life may be happy, but my life will never be full.

Weekend Review and Capture Your Grief catch up

This weekend was Tim's 28th birthday (so old, right?).  He was at the FD that day, so I just stopped by with this amazing pastry tray.  Said it would feed 20-30.  It fed four firefighters and one pregnant girl. Whoops. Guess I dropped the ball on that one, huh?  I had a jacket, new shirt, and new shoes waiting for him in my closet and I finally got to get rid of them. We also got the worst massages ever, but how was I suppossed to know they would suck?  I really need to step up my game next year.  I suck!  

We went to the pumpkin patch to get our boys' first pumpkins.  I always imagined bringing my twins to this pumpkin patch, somewhere Tim and I have been going annually since our first year living together. I imagined them sitting in the wagon, climbing on top of pumpkins, and picking them out. Conner and Ben couldn't do that, so we did it for them.  It was a bittersweet day. 

New birthday jacket!

Conner and Ben's pumpkins!  We tried to get matching ones.

Baby C's first pumpkin.  Stay tuned to see how I decorate it!

Can't forget Capture Your Grief catch up!  Love to my baby boys. 
Day 16: Retreat

I took a non-traditional approach to this topic.  I find comfort and peace when I travel with my husband, but no ordinary person can just hop on a plane every day. My retreat that I can turn to consistently is my blog.  It is my outlet, my diary, and my journey.  It has given me support and gifts that I never could have imagined.  Thank you all for being a part of it.

Day 17: Explore

Can grief and healing co-exist?  I think they must.  The grief of losing a child, or in my case, children, never dissipates. It never ceases.  There is no break from it.  But I find ways to honor Conner and Benjamin's lives, and it helps me to heal.  Just because I am striving to live my life to the fullest does not mean that my life will ever be full.  One of my life goals is to travel the world, a little at a time.  We have started taking bits and pieces of our journeys home with us for the boys, starting with sand and seashells from California and Bermuda.  What we see, they see,  What we experience, they experience.  They are always with us.


Day 18: Gratitude

It seems odd to consider myself lucky.  But I am lucky.  We had time with our sons.  We have pictures. We have footprints.  We have hats, blankets, and other carefully chosen items placed in their memory boxes. They were baptized.  Our parents got to say goodbye to their grandchildren. Everyday, I am grateful for what I had with them.  God chose me to be their mother.  No one else could love those boys like I do.  Two hours with them is worth more to me than a lifetime with another baby.  I am blessed.  I am thankful.  I have gratitude that they are now in the kingdom of Heaven.

Day 19: Give

Ben's puppy and Conner's giraffe, during one of the first and only times I was able to leave my hospital bed. 

What have we done for others in memory of our boys?  Donated to the NICU.  Led a family team in the March for Babies, bringing in over $12,000.  I find myself desperate to help other premature babies, simply because I could not help my own.  This Christmas, together with our families, we are donating outfits to our hospital's NICU and donating stuffed giraffes and puppies to the children's hospital in honor of Conner and Benjamin.  Their lives were short, too short.  But they will continue to make a difference in the lives of others.  My babies - my inspiration.

Infant Loss Awareness Day and capture your grief catch up

Day 10: Support

 

I have received support in the most unfamiliar  places and people - online loss forums, complete strangers who have shared their loss stories with me, and distant friends who have become like family.  We have found the most support in my sister in law, who next to us, probably misses the boys the most.  We've lost friends who think that they understand our situation better than we do when in fact, they have never had anything this devastating happen to them before.  We have distanced ourselves from people who didn't have the patience for our sorrow, shyed away from conversation that had to do with our babies, and believed that it was time to "move on" and that we cannot be sad any longer. My life is filled with people who truly love us and our boys, and we aren't wasting time on people who told us they would be there and no longer are.  Thank you, Conner and Benjamin, for giving us the gift of a true support system in our lives.  Thank you for making us see who is worth keeping in our lives and who is not.

My biggest support, though, is my husband.  We laugh and cry together.  Some days, I think he hurts more than I do over our boys.  He is the only reason I keep taking steps forward.  Together, we take one day at a time.  Through thick and thin, forever and ever.

Day 11: Altar

Every room in our house is filled with Benjamin and Conner.  Their pictures grace our walls, their nursery has been left untouched, and our love of them fills every square inch of air. But there is one spot in particular that has significant meaning for me: their picture in our bedroom, above seashell candles and a vase filled with reminders of the beach.  We had planned out to take them to Hawaii for their first birthday and imagined our little boys running up to the water and shrieking in delight.  I'll never be able to look at another ocean without thinking of them. I see the water and wonder how many shores it has touched before finally reaching my feet, and I think of how Conner and Ben are free to roam to wherever their hearts please. Every morning, I wake up and it is one of the first things I see. I say good morning to that picture every day.  When we read to them at night, they watch over us.  I look lovingly at their picture as I say goodnight.

Day 12: Music

I've written about this before, and it is definitely worth mentioning again.  Dixie Chicks Godspeed always reminds me of my boys.  It never fails to bring tears to my eyes, even 9 months after we lost them.  My father in law and the church band played it at the boys memorial. I remember playing this for Tim for the first time - we were still dating.  I explained to him that I didn't know why I loved it so much, but it just spoke to me.  He remembered that when I played it for him again and asked him if we should play it at their memorial.  He immediately started to cry. If ever there was a perfect song for two sweet little boys, it is this one.

Day 13: Season

Christmas 2013, few weeks before they were born - one of the last pictures all four of us would be together.

Every season reminds me of my boys. I think about all they are missing now - the colors of the leaves, pumpkin picking, and playing outside in the crisp, cool air.  I think of the summer they missed - the long days, the clear nights, and the trips we took.  I think of the spring that they were supposed to be born in - cool and breezy, the Easter Sunday I cried and grieved for them, and my first Mother's Day.  But most of all, winter reminds me of my boys.  They were born during one of the coldest winters on record.  It is only now, months out from when I last held them, that I see the beauty in winter.  We are surrounded in white, the coldness brings everyone together in huddles, and the best nights are the nights spend curled up on a couch. The holidays, the lights, and the time to reflect is something that we only find in winter.  My babies were born four days after my birthday, and I am only now beginning to appreciate how those dates and that winter brings us closer together.

Day 14: Dark/Light

Via La Dolce Vita

Words cannot adequately describe the emotions that I experience everyday without my sons.  I feel polarized and uneasy; I feel thankfulness and grace.  I feel grief and guilt; I feel happiness and peace.

Losing your children is the worst experience in the world.  I am torn apart daily.  I feel jealousy when I see family photos, knowing that mine will never be complete.  I feel anger at my body, blaming it for a premature delivery.  But at the same time, I feel thankful that we had the time we had with our boys. No one else can call them theirs. They are mine, all mine. God gave me the best two little boys in the world, the strongest little boys I know.  I rest easy some nights knowing that they are in heaven and at the same time, I lie awake thinking that they need me.  I fear that this will always be my reality.  There is no rest until I can be with them again. 

Day 15: Infant Loss Awareness Day

Today's topic is actually "community."  We lit candles for them that smelled like the beach - our favorite being "Aloha Waikiki," in honor of where we were going to take them for their first birthday.  We lit candles in our home and in their nursery.  I stared at their nursery for a long time, imagining two little boys stealing pacifiers from each other and laughing at the other one playing with trucks.

I would give anything not to be lighting those candles every year.

We lit candles for other babies gone too soon - Claire, Ava, Jack, Samantha, Staci, Preston, Nathaniel, Petey... the list goes on.  I stared at all of those candles, in awe of how many we lit.  I still cannot believe how many innocent and precious babies are stolen from this world.  We are part of a community no one wants to be in.

Thank you to everyone who lit candles for our babies last night.  Your support means the world to me.  I cannot even adequately express how every candle lit last night filled me with hope and happiness.  Thank you for making this mom's night just a little more bearable.

Capture your grief days 6-9

Day 6: Books

This may be my favorite.  As many of you know, we read to Conner and Ben every night.  We read a little from a children's Bible, and then we read two children's books.  I had my boys for two nights before they were taken to the funeral home and I was discharged.  On the first night, I had my arm around my boys who were carefully tucked in. Through tears, I told them I would still read to them every night like I had planned to had I been able to bring them home.

The first book we ever read to them was on the day they were born.  They were tiny little Bibles, clearly for babies.  We laughed as we read to them - seriously, the Old Testament is NOT meant to be read to babies.  Never. I mean, even the abbreviated versions are pretty bad. I kept saying that this was highly inappropriate, but Tim insisted it was okay.  I've since switched to a more kid-friendly version of the Bible.

Among our favorite books to read to them are the Llama Llama books.  There is a line in Llama Llama Red Pajama that reads, "Mama Llama's always near, even if she's not right here."

If anyone is interested, you can also find a list of books I have read about loss here: http://xobenjaminandconnerxo.blogspot.com/search/label/Books

Day 7: Sacred Place

Easy.  Ben and Conner's nursery.  It is where I go to think about them, cry, and look at pictures. Their bookshelf is in there, so I visit their nursery almost every night.  Even when I have bad days that have nothing to do with them, I find myself in their nursery.  It's going to be extremely difficult to renovate this room (which is why I am in a rush to move into a new house before Baby C is here - so I don't have to feel like I am putting a new baby in their room).

To see more of their nursery, go here: http://xobenjaminandconnerxo.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-nursery.html

Day 8: Resource

So many.  My main source of comfort has been through thebump.com or babycenter.com and their corresponding loss boards.  I've "met" and connected with so many other loss moms through these boards, and I will never be able to thank them all for the support they have given me (especially Kristin, Erica, and Kate).  Although I so wish we had all connected under happier circumstances, this journey somehow seems a bit more bearable because I know I am not alone.

I've also found comfort in other blogs, such as:

Spread Happiness for Preston
I can't even begin to start on how Cat's writing affects me.  She is wonderful. Every time she writes, I feel the raw emotion that she is experiencing.  Her little Preston has such a great mama.
Where is Baby Payne
Kate's journey through IF and loss has touched me, and now we are on this journey of being pregnant after loss together.  You can tell how much she really loves her little Jack.
Diary of a Little Chicken
Why do I love Chicken?  She's not afraid to be angry in her blog.  She tell it how it is - the good, the bad, the ugly.
Claire Bear of Mine
Kristin lost her baby girl around the same time I lost my boys, and for the same reason - Chorioamnionitis.  We really have a special connection, and my heart breaks for her every time I read her blog.

Day 9: In Memory

There are so many things I have done in memory of my boys, such as writing their names at every beach we go to, writing them letters, donating to the NICU at the hospital they were born at, participating in the March of Dimes, planting a garden in front of our house, having trees planted in their memory, donating to the library in their names, and getting a ring with their names on it (all of which I've chronicled in this blog).  

I never plan to stop.  I have many things coming up (which you will see soon).  I want their lives to make a difference.

Today is a good day to announce what I have been working on in grad school.  I am taking my last course in Theoretical Psychology, and I plan on having my researcher project done by the end of spring 2015.  I had a big chunk of my research done, and then I lost Conner and Ben.  I took two semesters off of school.  I came back, but only to change my research topic to cover perinatal grief.

Perinatal grief has not been studied much, and currently there are huge gaps in the literature.  Why is this problematic?  Perinatal loss includes miscarriages, stillbirths, and neonatal losses.  Thousands and thousands of women each year experience perinatal loss and find themselves with a lack of support and resources, both personal and professional. We lost our boys and found that hardly anyone knew how to be there for us - not medical professionals, and not our family or friends.  Historically, women were told not to talk about their pregnancy losses.  Even now, it's almost like a taboo subject.

So, I talk freely and openly about my loss.  Maybe that will help lessen the stigma of perinatal losses. Hopefully my research will help to cover the gaps in knowledge that exist in perinatal bereavement. Someday soon, I may ask some of you to participate in my research. I do this to make people aware of what baby loss mothers are going through.  I do this so that psychologists stop ignoring the very real grief that parents experience after losing a pregnancy.   I do this all in memory of my boys.

The longest blog post ever: weekend review and capture your grief catch up!

My blog posts are slowly becoming recaps of a bunch of things all at once (sometimes unrelated), and I apologize for that.  I would really love it if my life were more simple and the categories of my life were more clean cut, but nah, that will never be me.

First of all – I THINK my mom had her last chemo treatment!  She is being tested again in a few weeks to make sure everything looks good, and if it does (please God), then we can focus on her recovery.  I spoke to her on Thursday and she said she was already feeling better and was just happier thinking that the end was in sight. Thank you all for your support and prayers.  I don’t know most of you, but believe me when I say that you have all touched me so much with your encouragement.

After the bad news from the ultrasound on Thursday, I wrote my blog post and went to make dinner.  As I was walking down the stairs, I saw Tim pulling into the driveway.  He could tell that he couldn’t make me feel better on the phone, so he took a full sick day at the fire department (even though he only had 12 hours left on his shift) to spend the night with me.  We didn’t talk much about the ultrasound, but just having him home made me feel so much better. I love this man.

Saturday was my cousin’s wedding.  It was great to catch up with some family who were in town from Georgia.  Plus, I’m realizing as I get older that it is an increasingly small world – we got sat at a table with Tim’s old friend from high school and one of the other firefighters was there (his girlfriend is my cousin’s new sister in law).  It turned out to be a great night.  Afterwards, we stopped by my best friend’s house for her surprise 30^th birthday party.  Are we really getting that old?  I guess it never really hit me how close I was to 30 until I hugged her and told her happy birthday.  I’ve been best friends with her since the 2^nd grade. I’d love to say we have changed a lot, but we’re still kids at heart. I’m learning to embrace 30 as it draws closer. Besides, 29 has been kind of a shitty year.

Gotta love the photobooth!

We were on our way home Saturday night when we witnessed a huge crash right next to us.  The car next to us was turning left on a green arrow, and some other driver in an SUV (clearly drunk), rammed on his gas, blew the red light, and slammed right into that car turning left.  The car was clearly banged up (not sure if it is even repairable), and the SUV lost his freaking tire. The driver of the car got out to survey the damage, thankfully and surprisingly unhurt.  I should have written down what kind of car that was, I should get one.  It clearly saves lives. I watched the SUV continue to drive – at least 50 mph – and I was like – OH GOD, he can’t stop!  But then after about 5 seconds, I realized that he was choosing not to stop. He was fleeing the scene.  So naturally, Tim and I followed him.  I say naturally because Tim is a sucker for adrenaline.  It was pretty easy. We were in my hometown so I knew the streets backwards and forwards and knew which streets to take in order to catch up with him or cut him off.  Plus, he only had three freaking wheels so we were basically just following the car with the fireworks coming out of it. He pulled over (finally) and we were able to get his license plate number and phone it into the police.  Two parties and a good deed in one day.  Not too shabby.  We didn’t go to bed until about 12:30 am and we both woke up around 3 am… and never really went back to sleep. 

Which caused a problem, because today was the Walk to Remember in honor of Infant Loss Awareness Month that our hospital was hosting.  Luckily, after church and a huge breakfast, we felt ready for take on the day.  I was disappointed from the start, though.  I had sent a message to our family and close friends to see if they wanted to come with us, and almost everyone said no or chose to ignore the message completely. In the end, Tim’s sister, mom, brother, niece, and two of our friends came. It really makes me grateful for the people in our life who truly care, and who don’t think of the loss of our boys as old news.  It was a windy day, but it was perfectly autumn out. Luckily, being bundled up hid my pregnant belly pretty well. 

I don’t remember a ton of specifics – mostly because as soon as everyone started reciting prayers, I lost my mind and bawled my eyes out.  I think as soon as someone with a microphone said, “I think of you everyday”  that pretty much did me in.  There was a short walk around the forest preserve, some parents had readings devoted to their babies, and then there was a balloon release. Conner and Ben’s balloons were stuck together as soon as we got them, and they stayed together until we were no longer able to see them.

See the two balloons in the middle, stuck together?

One of our friends turned to us and said, “I never met them, and I still miss them.  And those pictures you have of them have got to be some of the most beautiful pictures I’ve ever seen.”

Cue my heart breaking. 

Tim’s sister and mom made more hats for the micropreemies and blankets. Of course, the nurses were so grateful to have them.  But I do remember our family and friends commenting on how small they were – they were modeled after Conner and Ben’s hats, and I could feel myself getting hot.  I hate it when people comment on how small they were.  I obviously know they were small.  No shit. But I already feel like a failure of a mother, so I hate when people comment on how small they are – it makes me feel like I didn’t do my job even more.  I know that the boys came out bigger – in weight and in length – than anyone expected, but still hearing that they were small was like a dagger.  If my kids died of cancer, I wouldn’t want someone saying something like “they just looked so sick. SO SICK.  I mean, SICK.”  You get the point.

I also need to catch up with Capture Your Grief, which seems very fitting after writing about the Walk to Remember.  I’ll make this short and sweet (am I losing you yet?).

Day 3: BEFORE

On our honeymoon cruise

Who was I before I lost my kids?  I think I was stupid.  Honestly.  Book smart, maybe, but stupid.  I remember holding my boys and feeling so guilty in getting caught up in all the baby shopping and money spending on the hottest new baby gear.  I remember thinking, “They don’t care what kind of crib I put them in.  They just want to breathe.”

I had fun.  I laughed more.  I stayed out later.  I thought that I was invincible.  I shouldn’t have.  I’m a little too old to believe in personal fables. But God, I miss that girl.  So naïve. So dumb.  You should have known better than to think your luck would never run out, stupid girl. 

I obviously still have anger at my past self for not preparing for what was about to happen to us. 

Day 4: NOW

We put the dimes we find in Conner and Ben's owl bank.  I find myself more open to what life has to show me. 

Maybe someday, I’ll be able to say I am truly a better person because of what has been taken from me (from US).  My boys have made me live in the moment when I used to live for a future that was never a given.  They have made me more grateful for what I have.  I hold some people closer and have pushed people away who didn’t give our boys the time of day.  Tim and I fight over not much of anything anymore.  I am, in some circumstances, more forgiving and patient.  I am more sensitive.  

But I’m still angry, I still feel robbed, and I still proceed with caution in life.  At any given second, I feel like throwing the temper tantrum of a monster two year old.  IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S NOT FAIR! The optimism I might have had before has all but disappeared.  But none of those negative traits are the fault of my boys.  Those traits will disappear with time, or so I hope.  So, I’m not really sure who or what I am.  Better in some ways, broken in others.  

Day 5: JOURNAL

Dear Benjamin and Conner,

I haven’t written a letter to you in so long.  This blog has become a letter to you in many ways.  It chronicles my feelings about having you and losing you, it captures the grief and happiness that I feel whenever we do something special for you, and it helps me to remember everyday how you both have changed me to be a more contemplative and sentimental person. Some days I feel like there isn’t anything else to say – everything that can be said has already been said.  Other days I feel like I could write an entire book on things I would love to be able to say to you.

For your baby shower, everyone was going to fill out a “wishes for babies” card. I never got around to filling it out, because you came so quickly after the cards were ordered.  But I want you to know all the wishes that I had for your lives, and how I hope you are living in heaven.

I hope you learn how to ride a bike fearlessly, your alphabet with silly rhymes, and how life is always beautiful, even in the worst of times.  If you hurt, it is because you loved.

I hope you are not afraid to challenge what is wrong with the world, even if they are beliefs held by the majority.  Do the right thing, and you will have peace in your heart.

I hope you love each other.  I always wished for twins, and when I heard we were having them, I wished that you would be the same gender and be best friends. Take care of each other.  There is a reason you were born together.

I hope you get to live life fully.  I cannot guarantee a long life, or even a happy one (although I would have done everything I could to give you both).  But I hope that you take the good with the bad and face each day with determination.

I hope you laugh at stupid things.  Your dad and I laugh at movies and jokes that quite frankly probably aren’t that great, and we have inside jokes that no one will ever really get. But those little opportunities at happiness everyday are sometimes what make each day fun.

I hope you never forget how much I love you.  When you go off to high school and feel like an outsider, or move away to college and crave your independence, or get married (per my approval) to the girl of your dreams – I hope you make your choices each day knowing that I will support you and love you no matter what.  You will never be alone.

I hope you always are grateful for the people who care about you.  So often, we lose track of friends and family and get caught up in ourselves.  Be sure to check in on people.  They will never forget you for it. 

I hope you dream about trains, cars, dirt bikes, and dogs. I hope you wake up in the mornings eager to play outside in the mud because of some great dream you had, or get new ideas of games to play with each other because of some creative wanderings your mind took in the middle of the night. Be little boys.  Be dirty and muddy and loud.  I promise I won’t mind. Your dad is always tracking dirt in the house and Miranda loves the smell of her own poop.  I haven’t kicked either one of them out yet, and I’m not even sure I know how to handle other clean people in the house.

I hope you become a person your children can be proud of.  You’ll know soon enough that the only opinions that matter are God’s, your mom’s, and your kid’s. If your kids grow up and think, I want to be just like my daddy, well then you’ve done a great job.

I hope you respect other people’s beliefs and cultures.  Some of them may seem completely different from yours, but it is not enough to simply tolerate.  You have to learn how to accept, and then to appreciate.  I am glad you are being born at a time where minority populations are gaining rights every day.  You represent two different cultures, being born from a white father and a Filipino mother.  People have opened the doors for you; keep opening it for others.

I hope you grow up. And at the same time, always stay young.  You’ll always be my baby boys.

With love,

Mom

Capture your grief day 2 and the worst ultrasound ever.

How far along? 18 weeks.  I can't decide if time is flying by or going way too slow.
What's happening with  baby?  Baby is 5.5 inches long, about the size of a bell pepper (mmm, stuffed peppers...).  Myelin is forming around baby's nerves.  Ears are almost at their final positions and baby can detect light.  Finger and toe prints are forming!  Baby's heart is pumping 25 to 30 quarts of blood a day.
Total weight gain: A whopping 4 pounds.  2 pounds in one week.  Whoops.  I might have overdone it.
Maternity clothes?  Not yet... but soon.  Very soon.  Like maybe tomorrow. Or this evening.
Stretch marks? Nope.
Sleep: Going through like a roll of toilet paper a night from night pees.
Miss Anything?  Eating peanut butter without getting heart burn. This is new. Even so, I am eating peanut butter right now.
Differences between Baby C and Conner and Ben at this point: My pregnancy with the twins was much easier.. this time... see below on "difficulties"
Emotions:  Pissed off to high hell.  I can't even think right now. See below.
Difficulties this week:  This section is slowly changing to a description of my OB appointments.  Went in today.  Cervix lost 6 mm in one week.  No funneling, which is good.  But they found "sludge" by my cervix (tons of discharge).  I take a z-pack for five days to see if that helps.  Go in next week.  If cervix has lost any more length, I go to my MFM for a late cerclage.  This is incredibly risky so late in the pregnancy - it can trigger contractions, or cause an infection (which will cause me to go into labor), or even break my membranes (causing me to go into labor).   But we might not have a choice. I knew this was a possibility.  It's bad enough that my OB hopes we make it to 28 weeks, but that is not certain (28. Who wishes for 28?).  The only hope I have is from a patient my OB told me about - she came in last week with a shortening of her cervix, funneling (yikes), and "sludge."  Took a z pack for 5 days.  Came back the week after, and she had gained all her length back, the funneling was gone, and so was the sludge.  That can be me, right?  Probably not. My track record isn't great so far.
Movement:  Mostly at night.  We have a party animal on our hands.
Food cravings/aversions: 

Symptoms: Just my evolving bump!
Happy or Moody most of the time:  Moody, but that could be because I've been sick for 6 days. And the whole awful ultrasound today.There's not much that is safe for pregnant women to take, so I've been relying on head rubs from my husband and our humidifier.
Looking forward to: Not sure anymore.  I was going to say my 20 week anatomy scan, but we might not make it to 20 weeks.

And of course, can't forget about my two angel babies

Today is day 2 of Capture Your Grief.  From Carly Marie:

Day 2: HEART. Last year, I asked people to post photos of their children on one of the days. Of course with me not giving this enough thought, this excluded all of the people who did not have photos of their children. So this year I wanted to do something that everyone could take part in, regardless of whether or not they have photographs. Today’s subject is inspired by the poem “I Carry Your Heart” by E.E. Cummings. Let’s flood the world with a sea of hearts in honour of all the children that we are dedicating this project to. Who are you carrying in your heart? Draw a heart to represent your own heart and write your children’s names in the center of your heart. If you did not name your children, just draw the number of hearts that you need to represent each life that you have carried. You do not need to be creative to do this, just a simple hand drawn heart will be perfect. You may want to write a little about your children’s stories. Who they are to you and what your hopes and dreams were for them. Share as much or as little as you feel comfortable with. I look forward to seeing all of your beautiful hearts and reading more about your darling children.

I leave my heart open to my boys every day.  I am open to anything and everything that they want to show me.  I told them in the hospital that if they ever needed anything to just let me know and I would die trying to help them.  I am their mama, always.  

My heart is full.  My heart is empty.  My heart never knew love until my babies were placed in my arms. My heart is waiting for the day I see them again. 

I still carry you.

Love you boys - to the moon and back.

Infant Loss Awareness Month: capture your grief, day 1

Carly Marie at Project Heal  is holding a "capture your grief" event in which baby loss mothers take a new photo (or use an old one) everyday with a certain theme in honor of Infant Loss Awareness Month.  I struggled on whether or not I would do this.  I'm no photographer, but Tim did buy me a "mommy camera" for Christmas last year and so it seemed like a good idea to take part in this worldwide event (albeit privately through my blog).

Today's theme is "sunrise." From Carly Marie:

Day 1: SUNRISE. Let us honour the beginning of this healing month by waking up early to watch the sunrise wherever we in the world. This will be a beautifully, poignant way for us all to feel connected and energized for the month ahead. When you go outside to watch the sunrise this morning, don’t just snap a picture and upload it right there on the stop. Take some time to breathe the sunrise in. Make yourself a nice cup of tea and sit down to breathe in the fresh air, the scent of the new morning and all of the colours and sounds. Spend some time reflecting upon your children and your journey so far. Give yourself some time to feel at peace. If there is no visible sunrise in your part of the world because of the weather, don’t be upset, this is life and nature, and it really doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you take the time out of your day to be with us all in spirit. Take a photo of your surroundings, no matter what the weather is like. If you share your photo online make sure you write what State/Country you are in and the time of the sunrise. So google the sunrise time in your part of the world and set your alarm. Send some love out to everyone else in the world who is grieving the death of a child and remember those gone before us who were made to grieve in silence. We honour these people too.


Unfortunately, this sick mama couldn't get out of bed this morning so today I will be using a picture that I took on a vacation in February of 2013 to the Caribbean.  Tim and I called it our "babymoon" - our last big trip before we jumped into the world of fertility treatments.

During our babymoon, I kept thinking that the next time we went on a cruise we would be toting our new baby around, showing him/her places so beautiful that most people never get the privilege of seeing them.  I couldn't wait to see our kids dip their toes in the ocean, knowing that those waters have touched countries all over the world.  

What a bittersweet journey we have been on.  I am so grateful for my boys, and because of them I am able to see life through new eyes and a new heart.  I live everyday for them, and everyday without them.  It is the paradox of being a mother who last held her babies almost 9 months ago.

I do feel bad that I didn't get up early this morning and see the sunrise and take the time to think about my boys.  But today, in honor of the first day of Infant Loss Awareness Month, I drove out to the library in my hometown and made a donation in honor of Conner and Benjamin.  The library will be purchasing children's books and placing a name plate in each book in memory of the boys.

Let the world never forget that there are parents everywhere whose children reside in their hearts and not their homes.  We are not an anomaly.  We are not alone.  I hope that that world begins to recognize us for all the children that we have and love, and not just the children that they can see.