Sunday, February 27, 2011


There are just certain events that stand out in my mind.
I've been able to mostly stop the replaying of the entire 2 weeks between the moment when my water broke and the moments that we held them when I lay down at night. My therapist told me all this tricks to continue to tell myself "It is over. It is done. It is in the past. I will think of these events only when I want and have time."
There was a part, too, about how I should mentally put the memories into like a chest or something at the bottom of the ocean, but I could never actually wrap my mind around it.
Sometimes the really bad memories hit me like a flash (punch in the stomach) and I don't know when they'll come and it's bad, but it's usually momentary.

Lately, the "good" memories are hurting worse than the bad.

I keep flashing to my husband and me. Sitting in a sandwich shop. We had just had our very first ultrasound where we were told it was twins.

I don't know if I'll ever see my husband that happy again. That truly, truly happy. I won't forget the phone calls we made-the SCREAMS of delight we heard over the phone-the tears of gratefulness. The happiness we gave our families.

I can't remember what I was wearing. I can't remember specifics like that, but I just remember the happiness.

I also keep thinking about the day we had our 20 week scan. I almost threw up in the waiting room I was so nervous something was wrong. After we had a perfect scan, after we found out we had a boy and a girl waiting to meet us, we decided, on a whim, to go and buy a mini-van. We spent the rest of the day at the car dealership, then drove all the way to Brian's mom's house to show her-we were SO DARN proud of that stupid van.

I hate driving that van.

Sometimes I really think the happy stories hurt me just as much as the horrifying ones. Sometimes I hate that these memories creep up on me. It's weird because Avery's pregnancy was more recent and I don't remember a lot about it at all-just the crippling fear.

Our brains try so hard to protect us. It doesn't always work.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011


It's almost March. My profession is in the middle of a freefall (I'm from Wisconsin, yo). My husband and I stand to take a paycut of around $1,000 a MONTH together very soon. The stress is getting to me. I'm trying to do all the things that I know: take baths, read, walk, talk to my husband, etc. I used to tell people those things all the time-but I didn't have a 7 month old then. It's so different.
I'm afraid we won't be able to afford to have another child.
I'm afraid we won't be able to find the second jobs we'll now need to pay the mortgage.
I'm sad. I miss Sophie and Aiden.
I can't even bring myself lately to read blogs, which is ALWAYS my safety net.
I guess I just need a break. Not really sure.
Just wanting to give an update and let you know I'm still here and I'm always thinking of you.


Sunday, February 13, 2011

If it were anyone else...

When Aiden and Sophie died, she...

*sent flowers
*brought me a plaque with their name on it and a necklace
*bought me jewelry with their name on it
*made me leave the house
* sat with me in the house
*asked questions
*cried with me
*looked at their pictures and told me they were beautiful
*said to me, "I'm sorry. This sucks."
*asked if a conversation was hurting me so she could stop if it was
*raised over $300 for the walk and walked with me in the cold and rain
*called on their birthday
*asks about them TODAY and by name
*so, so much more

If it were anyone else, the second I heard "Twins" and "boy and a girl" I would have been GONE. I would've never spoken to her again. I would've run away.

But I couldn't. I wanted to---

So I went, and had coffee with her. I brought A, to help.

It was good. She cried first and just said she wished there was anything she could do to not hurt me. Then, we talked about everything else-our jobs, our husbands, TV, all the stuff we normally would. And it felt good. And I had missed her.

And I said, "I don't want you to hold back your happiness. I am happy for you"

And do you know what she said, you guys?

Seriously-if everyone we know could just GET this-

"Honey, I am happy. But I can have a MILLION moments of happiness, and there are plenty of people to talk to about twins and how amazing it is-but I don't need that happiness RIGHT now. I can get it other times. I can talk about it whenever. And with people who it won't hurt."

I mean, how lucky am I?

Those of us going through infertility, loss, all of that. There's that attitude out there-don't expect other people to stifle their happiness with their pregnancy. Don't expect them to not talk about it with you-you are the bad guy if you can't handle it.

But doesn't her thought make so much sense? She can get that anywhere else, all day long.

Why her? Why her? Why her?

I guess I won't know. But if it were anyone BUT her-I'd be long gone.

Thanks for your well wishes-I did it, and I'm so glad I did, and I know that was FAR from the hardest thing to come(I told her I can't come to the hospital-she understood-and I told her I need to see them the first time with no one else so that I can cry-and she said she'd be crying with me).

Thank goodness for great friends. :)

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


So, I don't know if you remember, but in October I found out my best friend from grad school is having boy/girl twins.
I had a huge breakdown.
I haven't seen her since, we've just been e-mailing.
So, I've been kinda putting it off, but now we have plans, for Saturday.
I'm scared.
I'm sad.
I don't know what I am.
I need strength.
I need something.
She's already almost 34 weeks along.
I just need strength. I feel so beaten down lately.

Saturday, February 5, 2011


The calendar has turned to February. It's almost as if as I turned the page (figuratively, I guess, because my calendar is online now), I could feel the heaviness pushing down.
Two years.
Their two year birthday isn't until April, but March was the beginning of the end. My memories are in pieces, but mid-March I think I lost my mucus plug without really knowing. March 29th-the night my water broke and my life fell into shambles.
I just can't believe that it's only been 2 years and I can't believe that it's already 2 years.

I look around and I see people doing amazing things in memory of their babies. I just can't seem to get it together. I want to run away; to hide. I want to pull the blankets over my head. I am in the middle of planning a March of Dimes walk and there are mornings when I want to cancel the whole thing. I want to sulk and cry and mope and whine.

I wish I was different. I wish I was better. I wish I could do something amazing in Sophie and Aiden's honor.

But I feel so heavy. I feel so much weight on my shoulders. I feel sad. I feel like I need to stay happy for Avery. I've had trouble the last few nights as I snuggle her before bedtime. The tears just start rolling and I can't stop them.

I wish I could blink and have it all be over with!