Weekend Review: Flashbacks

via pinterest

January 7th, 2014.  22 weeks and 1 day. It is one of the coldest winters on record.  Snow covers everything. Another snowstorm is about to hit. It is the day after my birthday.  I am at home, watching tv. I'm watching Despicable Me 2, a birthday present from my husband.  The minions remind me of the two little boys who will soon be joining us. Tim is at the fire department on a 48.  I won't see him until the 9th.  I am pregnant with twin boys.  I start having contractions.
Halloween, 2014. 22 weeks and 1 day. I am pregnant with my baby girl.  I am driving to pick up gourmet cupcakes for when my niece and nephew come by.  And it is snowing. I'm sure parents and children alike sighed in contempt, but I drove along, smiling the whole way. The snow gets heavier the closer I get to home. Is that you, boys?


January 8th 2014. 22 weeks and 2 days. I am admitted to the hospital.  I expect to go home soon, and Tim promises to buy me a strawberry shake on the drive. Then they wheel me into a room with a fucking baby warmer, and I know it is going to all be over soon.
November 1st, 2014. 22 weeks and 2 days. I wake up and the snow has stuck to my car overnight.  The day wears on.  I go to bed early.  I wake up around 4 am, but not for the first time tonight.  I haven't felt baby girl in awhile.  I run my hand over my stomach, trying to wake her up.  Kick, punch, wiggle.  There she is.  I try to get her to move more. Leave me alone, mom, I'm sleeping. Tonight I am still pregnant.  I am not in labor.  My baby is alive.

January 9th, 2014. 22 weeks and 3 days. My last full day with my boys.  I am still pregnant.  I finally agree to having an epidural, after being in labor for days.  The only reason I agree is because I do not want to be in physical pain during the short time I will be able to hold my babies.  That night, one of the boys' water starts leaking.  We don't know whose. We call our pastor at 4 a.m.  He comes right away, and stays with us until after the boys are born.
November 2, 2014. 22 weeks and 3 days.  We go to church this morning, as usual.  Pastor comes up to us and sincerely says, "God be with you today."  He has a look on his face.  He looks sad.  What is today?  I open up the bulletin for today's service. It is All Saint's Day.  Conner and Benjamin's names, along with 14 others, are listed as the faithfully departed. Special prayers are said for them today.  My eyes fill with tears as Pastor announces their names.  "The little babies, Conner Sullivan...Benjamin Sullivan."  A chime is rung after each name.  Later, he gives the sermon. He addresses each of the 16 faithfully departed.  "And the most heartbreaking of all, Conner and Benjamin, taken after just 23 weeks of life."  I see the man in front of me shake his head.  Tim and his sister are crying.  So am I.

January 10th, 2014. 22 weeks and 4 days. Conner is born at 11:27 a.m.  I hold him.  He breathes.  He hiccups. Benjamin is born at 11:43 a.m.  He breathes.  His hands always find his face. They are baptized in my arms the minute they are born as our pastor, our doctor, and our nurse cry with us.
November 3rd, 2014.  22 weeks and 4 days. I wake up this morning, and Baby C is squirming away.  Stay with me, baby girl.  I'm going to raise you to know all about your brothers.

Weekend Review (is this going to be a thing now?)

I just want the Blogger world to know- yesterday, it was near 70 degrees outside.  Today it is snowing.

My sister in law (the non-pregnant one) came over Friday so she could see the boys' hats.  She is knitting some for the hospital Conner and Ben were born at, since they rarely have donations for micro-preemies.  I was terrified she would talk about her very pregnant sister, but she didn't.  She cried over how Christmas would be horrible this year without the boys.  I know this sounds horrible, but I was so glad she wasn't forgetting them.  I thought for sure everyone would be so happy that there was another baby coming around the holidays that they would forget about the two little boys who were supposed to be celebrating their first Christmas ever.  I think that is one of my biggest fears as an mom to angels - that the world will forget about them as time goes on.

My husband and I spent the weekend at home just spending time with each other.  Tim grilled some ribs, we watched some movies, and we went house hunting for houses that we will never be able to afford, unless I win the lottery (which I won't, because I don't play). Turns out, houses that are near a million dollars are a mere 25 minutes away from our house.  Does anyone know how much a kidney sells for on the black market? I wanted to take pictures while we were out looking, but my camera died (Tim could not have been more relieved - he didn't want to be the guy with the weirdo Asian tourist).  So these are from the brochures we got:

Some things we were introduced to this weekend: microwave drawers, remote-control showers, full bathrooms in every bedroom, stained wallpaper ceilings, and doorways/doors so large that the Jolly Green Giant would fit comfortably through them.

Interesting points - we own a construction company.  We walked through these houses and we knew how much material costs.  For example, we walked through what appeared to be a very expensive bathroom. But we recognized the tile.  It was from Home Depot. Not only that, but a lot of the finished carpentry throughout the houses were hack jobs. 

Also, yesterday I bought a tape dispenser that looks like a chameleon.  It's supposed to change colors when you touch it, but  it only turns yellow-ish if you hold it for a really long time.  Stupid chameleon.

Dear winter....

photo via society6

I know the whole country is freezing  - with a few exceptions (Southern California, you buttholes).  I am aware that even the south is freaking out over ice storms, and that states of the more northerly latitude are colder than Chicago.  But seriously, I went outside today in 35 degree weather and I was WARM.  More specifically, it was the didn't-need-my-jacket kind of warm. That's not normal.  I only feel warm because its not negative 40 degrees outside.  Just last week, my husband and I walked outside in 15 degree weather and I swear I almost stripped naked from the heat.    Winter, you are an asshole. You are pissing me off.  I shouldn't be liking 35 degree weather.  Plus, now that its "warm" out, the snow and ice are melting and creating flooding in the streets and leaks in my office window. More importantly, winter, you remind me that my boys were here much too soon.

Conner and Benjamin's due date is May 12, 2014.  Twins are routinely delivered via c-section at the 37 week mark, which would have been April 21, 2014.  My OB explained that most women carrying twins make it to 35 or 36 weeks, which meant that Conner and Benjamin would most likely be coming in the middle of April.  I was looking forward to the trees starting to turn green, warmer breezes, and barbecues for their birthdays. Every time I see the snow, I am constantly reminded that they shouldn't have been here yet.  I walk down the stairs and see their pictures hanging delicately on our walls, and I think two things simultaneously: they are amazingly beautiful and we shouldn't have any pictures of them yet - not until April.

I have the unfortunate luck of also having a January birthday.  I never wanted that for my children.  January in Chicago blows.  The Christmas lights are down, leaving buildings and houses stripped from their festive colors and inviting entrances.  It is one of the coldest months of the year, and no one wants to do shit during January.  Getting people to go out for your birthday isn't easy when you have to plan around ice, snow, cold, and car accidents.  This year, Lake Michigan is almost completely frozen over its surface, camouflaging itself like a snowy white field instead of one of the biggest freshwater sources in the world.  

Um, are those tracks in the snow? 

photo via bearkillers

I wanted my kids to have fun backyard birthdays with lots of games and food and people sitting around enjoying the weather.  So when we found out the boys' due date, I was so happy.  It wasn't quite summer, but spring would be warm enough to meet all my criteria for hosting big birthday parties.  Now I look out the window and and reminded that they were born during one of the coldest weeks of the year, just after one of the coldest days in Chicago history. Poor babies.  Haven't they been through enough?  I remember our boys when the funeral home came to pick them up from the hospital.  We laid them down in a basket filled with blankets that one of the nurses had found.  Even though the boys were swaddled tightly together, we threw another fleece blanket on top of them to keep them warm.  I knew that they weren't really in their bodies, but I couldn't let my boys go out in that frigid cold. 

Most people are familiar with Kubler Ross' five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  I agree that most people going through the loss of their child(ren) go through these feelings, but definitely not in stages.  I feel those stages on a daily basis, all at once, and there are no words or drugs to help me get through them. They are overwhelming and all-consuming.  I'll take a vodka with a chaser of straight-jacket, thank you. 

1. Denial - thinking that maybe I'll wake up the next morning, and I'll still be pregnant.  Today would be week 28 of pregnancy, they would have weighed over two pounds, and would have been able to see around the womb.  The websites say that they would have had eyelashes by now - but they did at 22.5 weeks when they were born.  Conner had my short straight lashes and Benjamin's lashed curled like his daddy's. 
2. Anger - 24/7.  I hate everything everyone says, even when their hearts are in the right place. No one says the right thing.  Everyone is moving on with their lives, and mine has stopped.  How could that be?  Anger is probably the most overwhelming emotion I have been feeling lately.  
3. Bargaining - My life for theirs, God.  Please?
4. Depression - tears are in my eyes all the time.  Everything makes me sad, from walking into their nursery to doing the laundry.  I'll never see them playing in their nursery; I'll never get to wash their clothes.  
5. Acceptance - NEVER.