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

Weekend Review: a wedding, our anniversary, and lots of gatorade

Welp, I’m writing this on my couch, watching the Bears vs. Packers game (well, not really… more like its noise in the background because I couldn’t really care less about football).  I have a blue Gatorade with a twisty top to my right (my favorite), and am bundled up in fleece.  No shower. Hair is a mess. Glasses on.

I’m siiiiiiiiiiick.

Breakfast for the sick.  This is just mine... but I did end up sharing. 

I was so looking forward to this weekend.  Our 3^rd wedding anniversary is this Tuesday, so we were celebrating our anniversary this weekend instead.  We usually try to go on a trip for our anniversary, but our track record sucks so far.  Our first anniversary, we went up to Galena and had a ton of fun eating food and relaxing.  Our second anniversary, we had to cancel our big trip to Colorado because of the terrible flood that they had.  So, at the last minute, we went up to Galena again.  I was pregnant with the boys and nauseous the whole time, so Tim watched a lot of football on the couch and while I puked everything I ate. 

This year, everyone and their mom was/is getting married around our anniversary.  We went to a wedding for one of Tim’s best friends on Friday, and he was a groomsman.  Tim was just starting to get over being horribly sick – congestion, sore throat, cloudy head, pounding headache.  He didn’t want to get me sick, so he ended up taking overtime at the FD (where I hope he didn’t get anyone else sick).  Since he was in the bridal party, I didn’t see him that much and figured that was pretty safe.  I rode up to the wedding with two of the other firefighters and had fun talking with everyone, all the while hoping no one would ask me why I was sipping water while they were pregaming in a parking lot.  Success!  If anyone has guessed, they didn’t say a word. I didn’t get to sit with the other firefighters at dinner.  Instead, I was at the table with all the other wives/husbands of the people standing up in the wedding.  The misfit table.  We didn’t know each other.  We were the dateless.  So the firefighters gave me the sad eyes all night. Once dinner was over and Tim was able to join me, he looked good. Not sick.

STUPID BRA

Then again, I’m no diagnostician.  We ended up leaving the reception early to get me to bed.  The groom was the only friend that Tim told about me being pregnant, so he insisted that Tim get me home and was completely understanding.  Still, I’m feeling like a piece of crap for leaving a wedding at 10 pm.

We didn’t go home.  Since we are so busy with looking for houses, school, work, and going to other weddings (we have another one in 6 days), we opted to spend the weekend in downtown Chicago and well, spend a ton of money.  My kind of weekend.  We had already paid for a hotel adjacent to the Hancock Center (I still giggle when I think that word. I am 12 years old), so we drove down Lake Shore Drive and arrived at this cute little boutique hotel (complete with tiny elevators).  We never did make it to the rooftop bar, but our hotel room was classy and huge. Our night consisted of watching an episode of South Park, reading to the boys, and falling asleep, both of us with sore throats and pounding heads.  Who says romance is dead?

Our hotel

SO close to the Hancock!

Our anniversary weekend was supposed to go like this: sleep in, get brunch, go shopping for baby C on Michigan Avenue, get couples massages, and get dinner at the Signature Room on the 95^th floor of the Hancock Building.  But I woke up knowing I would never make it to dinner.  I took my temperature and didn’t have a fever, so I didn’t call the OB.  I downed a ton of fluids and took two regular strength Tylenol every 6 hours.  I knew I could take it every 4 hours and I could take extra strength, but I’m big on not taking more drugs than I need when I’m pregnant.  Luckily, my own immune system is slowly kicking this virus’ ass (which is more than I can say for my husband).

So what did we really do for our anniversary?  For those of you who have ever driven in downtown Chicago, you don’t drive down there and NOT spend the day there.  The drive is horrendous.  Every turn you take, you think you’re going to kill like 20 pedestrians.  Cars are ruthless.  If you have the balls to drive in the heart of Chicago, you get your time and fun out of it.  So, we did get brunch.  Cheesecake Factory, I love you.

Looking up, directly beneath the Hancock

Love Michigan Avenue!

We did try out overpriced furniture.  That chair was over $2,000.

So sick!

My view of baby

We went window shopping down Michigan Avenue. As much as I wanted to shop for the baby, I couldn’t bring myself to do it with this infection.  If I get a negative culture again in a couple weeks, then trust me, it’s on.  SPEND ALL THE MONIES!!!

Since we wouldn’t be making it to the 95^th floor of the Hancock (hahaha) for dinner, we went to the 94^th floor observation deck instead. Good enough, right?  The views were amazing, and it was a beautiful day out.

I couldn't help it. I needed to purchase this picture. It's on our fridge. So cheesy!

What we were really waiting for were our couples’ massages.  We might have gone home earlier, but I was convinced that a massage would make me feel better.  I booked at Tricoci’s, a spa I used to work at (at a different location).  It was my present to Tim…. and yeah, for myself too.  I mean, a pregnant girl can pamper herself, right???

Right before the massage. So awesome.

Ladies, if you are pregnant – get a pregnancy massage!  This was my first, and I left feeling like a new woman.  My headache was even gone!  I wasn’t lightheaded anymore.  It was amazing.  I’m determined to go again in a few weeks. 

Nevertheless, we went back to the parking garage to drive home.  I had already canceled our dinner reservations and Tim wanted to get me home as soon as possible to knock the bug out.  We get to my car, Tim turns the key and… nothing.  Battery worked, we heard the engine clicking… but nothing.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!

A little note on my car: it’s a 2010.  It only has like 65,000 miles on it. It’s been recalled SEVEN times.  We replaced the starter LAST YEAR.  So Tim calls his mechanic (his dad’s best friend, Tim’s “uncle”), and his uncle goes “it’s that starter again!”  Cue me in the passenger seat, eating leftover Cheesecake Factory, watching my man pound on the starter with a tire iron (per uncle’s suggestion). 

Then the battery dies.

OMG.  Tim was hot.  He knew calling a tow truck was almost out of the question – how the hell does it get into the parking garage?  And then paying for a cab home?  Aw HELL NO.  Luckily, someone driving by was kind enough to jump our car and thank God it was enough to start the car. 

We almost went to the dealer yesterday to get me a new car, but seeing as though we are on the market for a new house I decided to ride this car out (literally) for another year or two.  Besides, I love that it’s paid off. 

Our anniversary dinner consisted of leftovers and White Castle.  I went to bed with a Vick’s humidifier next to me.

There’s always next year, right?

Happy 3rd anniversary to my husband, who goes out at any hour to fulfill my pregnancy cravings, rubs my head when I'm sick, and loves me unconditionally (pajamas, snotty nose, messy hair, and all).  To the hardest working man I know, who has given me everything I've ever wanted and more. To the only person who loves Conner and Ben as much as I do and whose favorite part of the day is reading to them at night. To the man who saves lives every time he is at the FD, builds homes for people, and is always on my side. I am forever on yours. 

Our wedding

My big news this weekend was that I bought a new 2 in 1 laptop (yay).  Tim's big news was that he rode his bike 124 miles with his brother (yikes).  So, instead of a weekend review, I'm posting pictures from our wedding from almost three years ago.  I've been wanting to post these for awhile and now it seems like a good filler.  I feel weird posting pictures of other people on this blog, since this blog is private and no one really knows about it, so have fun looking at tons of pictures that are mostly of me and my husband (hahahaha).  I'm getting all nostalgic and now I want wedding cake.  Have I mentioned that I've gained a pound... in two days?  Baby C is unofficially "fat baby."

Yep, two of my best friends are boys and were my "bridesmen"

String quartet

The skies cleared and we got two rainbows for our wedding ceremony!

Our wedding cross (instead of a unity candle)

"Wrong hand, Krystal"

Right after we walked down the aisle, our wedding coordinator handed us Bud Light. Oh, hell yes.

Great story here: When Tim proposed, he had his dad hide and take pictures of the entire thing.  I didn't know we had pictures of him proposing until our wedding day. 

After our honeymoon, Tim put on his Class A uniform and I put my wedding dress back on and we took pictures at the park and in Chicago.

Apparently, he doesn't like my lipgloss.

I am so blessed to have this man in my life.  Last night, I asked him if he still loved me even though I had a mouthguard in and I was bloated and wouldn't get out of my pajamas.  He said he loved me because of it.  That's some real love right there :)

Hope you all had a great weekend!