I, honestly, am so happy. Happier than I've ever been. Avery is the most beautiful, funny, amazing baby and I could spend every minute of every day just staring at her.
But in the background, the grief nags at me. The wondering nags at me.
I've been blogging about it a lot actually, but not hitting "publish" because nothing seems to make a lot of sense.
But she looks like them.
And I wonder what it would be like if there were two. Two beautiful babies, one boy, one girl.
I wonder what it would be like if we had one year old twins AND her!?
I feel like I don't love them enough. Or think of them enough.
I feel like I owe it to her to not think of them too much. To not take away from her what I can't give to them.
Having her here makes it all too real. What I really missed out on. What I really lost. What a stupid infection takes away.
I had a c-section and I'm so tired of the comments, "Now you'll never have to know how bad labor/delivery feels!"
The thing is, how do they think they twins got out? I labored, trust me-I labored. I delivered them. The placenta. I had to dilate fully. I did it all. And my babies were immediately whisked away and I couldn't hold them until they were already pretty much dead.
How can I forgot that? I can't. But I guess everyone else can.
But I don't mean everyone else.
My friend T sent me an e-mail saying when she thinks of Avery, she thinks of them, too. I don't think a nicer thing could be said to me. I don't think anything could make me happier.
My friend K got the coolest personalized book for Avery and in it she put Sophie and Aiden's names. I cry when I read it.
My friend J gave us a onesie that says "Little Sister" on it.
I'm so very lucky. So very blessed.
But the nagging feeling is there. The grief recoils and gets ready to strike again-who knows when? Usually when I'm alone and the baby is asleep. I stare at her and I think. Really think. And it hurts so, so much. I hate this hurt. I resent this hurt.
The Quiet Zone
13 hours ago
12 comments:
I know you are not alone in these thoughts. All of the baby lost mothers seem to mention the same things you mentioned here in this post, the mixted emotions that come following the birth of your rainbow baby. I will keep you in my prayers. ((HUGS))
I know exactly what you mean, as I'm dealing with those same emotions right now with our rainbow. The guilt overwhelms me sometimes as I realize how long it's been since I've thought of our twins or looked at their pictures. Or when I'm having an issue breastfeeding I wonder, "Would I have been able to handle 2?" and then even more guilt comes. A mother's guilt never ends, and a babylost mother adds even more guilt.
Oh, how I know what you are saying.... it's such a delicate balance.
IT's strange, isnt how, how we remember every one who forgets even in spite of the dear ones who always remember. I'm right there with you. I often think "Wow, 2 2-year olds, a year old, and 2 infants... How insane..." And I wonder, how would it be? What would life be like? And then I have to remind myself that it wouldnt be the way my head likes to pretend. Truth be told, my other babies wouldnt be here. Sure, there may have been little siblings, but it wouldnt be THEM. And, as much as that hurts, it also makes me realize that I am happy to have had them all. But it still hurts. So much.
Sending big hugs...
I feel so connected to you in many ways. We both had beautiful twins, boy and girl. You just had your baby girl rainbow and I am expecting my baby girl rainbow. I can only imagine how hard the balance of this new joy and grief is. HUGS!
you hit the nail on the head. i feel that way everyday. always remembering sophie and aiden and celebrating avery with you!
Stupid infections indeed. Who would have thought they could have changed our lives so drastically. That particular line in this post really hit home with me.
Actually, all of it did.
xo
I went through similar feelings- if I was happy, I felt I wasn't loving or missing my babies that were gone enough... if I was sad, I felt it was unfair to my living kids... it's a tough road, grief.
It makes perfect sense to me Christy. I often feel that, when G died, I didn't really fully comprehend what I had lost. I was absolutely devastated and I couldn't have hurt more but I didn't really understand the extent of my own loss.
As J grows up and does more and more things, the loss of G unfolds and unfolds further. Because she will never do any of those things.
I'm glad you have such lovely friends who remember all your children, Sophie, Aiden and Avery. xo
I don't know that it will ever not be that teeter-totter of balance between being so thrilled with the blessing of your life as you live it each moment and the sorrow of the amazing blessings you have lost in losing your children. I think your last statement--"I resent this hurt," is so powerful. It IS resentment--mothers should never feel guilty over loving one child so much that they feel like they aren't loving the others enough. And yet, it's hard not to at least let those thoughts creep in.
Even the, "If so and so had lived...then so and so may not be here..." or "You are honoring your firstborn by having his sibling," or the one I hate the most, "Without _______, there'd be no _________, so _______ really was paving the way." comments that are meant to be um, helpful, for lack of a better word...they honestly just don't so much.
I don't WANT one of my children losing his or her life to pave the way for a sibling. I don't WANT to honor one by trying again for another. I don't want to think that this one that I am carrying and now so in love with may not be here had his brother lived...that just makes me feel even more guilty.
It is all so hard. I think you do it beautifully and I love, love, love the joy you show and share for your sweet girl while you still show your grief and heartache for not having her brother and sister with you as well.
I think it's natural to see her and think of them. It's gonna hurt because you miss and love them so much.
Oh, Sweetheart. I know it is hard to believe there will ever be a time when your heart won't be torn and conflicted. But I believe it will get better. I grieved so deeply and desperately when my daughter was stillborn at 35 weeks. I grieved and despaired when I subsequently miscarried two times. And I could not relax and fully enjoy my pregnancy that produced my lovely twin boys. Two and a half years after my boys, I gave birth to a daughter. I will always envision my husband sitting in the hospital room window seat, holding our live baby girl and weeping. Weeping with joy for our darling, living breathing daughter, and weeping with grief for our quiet, still one. My sons are now 20 and my daughter 17. Our firstborn daughter, our stillborn daughter is 22. There is always a mixture of emotions, but at least for me, they have intermingled. The gratefulness of life in our offspring is sweetened and heightened when I think of how privileged I've been to have them this long. I'm not glossing over the pain of the years, though. Hear me. I'm right there with you. Those first years were tough. But things get better. I haven't seen a lot of comments from "old" mothers like myself. So I wanted to add a voice that says, it will get better. No. You will NEVER forget your precious twins. They'll be in your heart. Forever. But for this moment, what you have is what you have. Hug that little bundle of happiness and cause of exhaustion and ... well, just enjoy it. There are no trite, easy answers or fixes. It is what it is. Loss is tough. Living is tough. And then there are times of absolute delight. My best and my prayers to you. I hope I didn't say anything that causes pain. I know how raw we are sometimes in the darkness of our grief. Loving thoughts.
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