Sunday, January 30, 2011


Right after the twins died, I thought I would be ok with dying. I wasn't suicidal; I just thought-I guess if I die now, at least I'll get to be with them. It seemed like I wasn't afraid to die anymore.

I found out last night that it's not true. I mean, of course, I wish they could be here with me and of course I know that once I die I will be reunited with them. But, I want to be here.

My mom came yesterday to spend the day with Avery so we could have a little time to ourselves. We went out for a relaxing lunch, went grocery shopping, and hung out with my mom. When the evening was over, I had to drive my mom to a town about 40 miles away so her husband could pick her up.

We had one of the best mother/daughter talks we've ever had during that time. We talked about the twins, about Mary (my sister who was stillborn), about funerals and how we want to be buried. We talked about guardianship of Avery and wills and living wills. We talked about my (estranged) father and just life in general.

After I dropped her off, I got back on the interstate to head home. It was snowing lightly and raining a little. My cell phone rang and I picked it up only to tell my husband that I was on my way home. As I was driving along, I told him I had to go since I don't like driving and talking and right when I said that, all of the cars in front of me were suddenly braking. All I could see was brake lights. I don't remember all of it, but I hit my brakes, and the anti-lock brakes kicked in, and my car went out of control. I realized there was ice on the road. I wavered a little, tried to pump the brakes, and then started to spin. I spun around completely twice, then went into the ditch. Pretty far, around 20 feet, into the snow.

My poor husband could hear it all happen. He could hear the tires squealing. He could hear me screaming.

You might think this is dramatic, but as the car was spinning, I thought I was going to die. I wondered if I had said I love you to Avery before I left. I was thankful I recorded her a storybook for Christmas so she could have a sample of my voice.

I don't want to die.

It ended up that I just needed pulled out by a wrecker, and the van is ok, and I am ok. The dog was with me, and he is ok. Brian is shaken up because he, too, thought I was going to die. He tells me that he wanted to hang up because he didn't want to listen, but he couldn't hang up because...well, you just can't.

As if I needed a reminder that life hangs by a thread-that one single moment can change the entire course of your life.

But I got another one.

Friday, January 28, 2011


There are days, when, I can think that I'm ok.
That I'm maybe, even (shhhhh!) better than ok.

That I'm good.

That we continue to move forward and look forward and spend less than thinking back.

Ya know, to then.

Then there are days when I scream "BUT MY BABIES DIED!!!!!!!!!!!"

I might be sitting in a meeting or in the middle of teaching a class and I'll think "I'm here today, but I shouldn't be, because you see-Aiden and Sophie are dead. And they are not EVER coming back. Ever."

Sometimes, just that phrase, "Dead babies" will go through my head.

When things start to go "bad" (and I use this term lightly, because I know what bad really is, but you know-when you have a bad week or something) I feel like it brings my grief back into the forefront.

Well, I hit a car in the parking lot. But, my babies died (so it's worse).
I had strep throat so bad that I was throwing up the first day of a brand new semester. And Aiden and Sophie are dead (so it's worse).

I just wonder if this will ever change.

When I checked my blogs just before writing this, I felt an alarming feeling. I hadn't thought of Aiden and Sophie today. I mean, I had. Because I got an e-mail about the March of Dimes walk, and the secretary at school reminded me that her son is having twins, so I had thought of them. But not exclusively. I, for the first time, hadn't taken the time today to sit down and just let my mind wash over them. Their memory. Sophie's hand curling around my finger.

I'm scared.

I'm scared I'll stop remembering.

I'm scared that my life now is going to take them further away from me.

But then, they're already so far away, aren't they?

Sunday, January 16, 2011

A new look and asteroid b-612

So, how fabulous is Franchesca from Small Bird Studio? I absolutely, positively love my new blog look. I've been wanting a bloggy makeover for so long, and so my husband gave me one for Christmas :) I couldn't wait for her to open the wait list! If you have been wanting something new-please go check her out.

I am feeling lately like I'm completely drowning. Having B and I both back to work is just so hard-and I feel like I'm failing at everything now. I'm not as good of a teacher, I'm not as good of a mom, and not as good as a wife. I'm like seriously obsessive about the cleanliness/non-clutter of my house and when I don't have enough time to devote to it, my stress level sky rockets.

I'm feeling so out of it and so over-sensitive. After losing the twins, I'm just so darn emotional and I was emotional even before all of it. I take everything so personally (and this is not great when you work with sassy middle schoolers) and I'm annoyed with my family, specifically my in-laws, who are some of the more selfish people I've met in my life.

Avery had this horrible stomach virus last weekend-she had awful, awful diarrhea. I know I've read this on other blogs, but the second anything is even a little off about her, I am convinced it's some sort of horrible illness. If she doesn't take her normal bottle, I think she may die of sids. I read too many blogs. Too many stories on faces of loss. I need to stay positive and know in my heart that she is fine. That she's healthy. That she was born full term. That she's beautiful and thriving and meeting all her milestones.

But so was the case with so many of our beautiful lost babies.

Life is so tender. It can be ripped from us in a minute.

And because I think about all of this, I'm not sleeping well. When I can sleep, with Avery teething, and getting 6 month shots and all the rest.

I don't know where I'm going with any of this. I guess I'm just saying when things get like this I want to run away-today's destination is Asteroid b-612 (anyone a little prince fan out there?).

Thursday, January 13, 2011


I glanced at the calendar today. The 13th.
Tonight, as I rocked my beautiful daughter to sleep, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander back.

21 months ago, at this hour, I had just said good-bye to my first-born. I may even have still been in the middle of it-in the NICU, with the dividers up, with all the nurses lined around the sides while my husband's hand rested on my shoulder and I sobbed, screaming, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry" to my daughter, who was dying.

21 months ago, I would go back to my hospital room, bleeding, focusing renewed hope on my son, who would make it through the night only to be greeted with his mother agreeing to take off life support so he could be free to escape this Earth and be at peace.

Twenty-One. Unbelievable.