And So I Wait…

September 30, 2009

I went to book club last night not realizing that one of our members, who is very pregnant would be there.  I backed out of book club at her house because I just couldn’t deal and then the next month, Hubby was out of town and I couldn’t get there and let the dogs out after work all at the same time.  Plus book club was the week before the boys due date and I just couldn’t do it.  I can only do what I can do, remember?  I have managed to avoid her until last night.  Honestly, I just simply forgot that she would be there.

So I sat at the far end of the table, in the corner, sandwiched between my people.  K on one side, H on the other, R on the other side of K.  I felt stupid that I needed to feel safe and secure – she’s a damn pregnant woman, not an axe murderer.  But I didn’t want to sit next to her and stare at her huge belly, knowing that I am still waiting for mine.  My tummy never got to be that big (despite the repeatedly nasty comments made by my mother – my tummy at 5 months was probably about the size of most women at 7 months but there were two little boys in there).  My tummy might never get to be that big.  I’m waiting for just a chance to get that big.  I feel like that’s all I do, every month…just wait.

There was the inevitable baby talk since R had her baby a month ago but for the most part, we talked about current events, things going on with everyone – particularly a legal situation with H that was, thankfully, finally resolved and hopefully, she finds some peace.

And we laughed.  A lot.  And loudly.  I needed to laugh loudly and a lot.

A Second Poem…

July 21, 2009

Amy from Surviving the Day sent me this poem yesterday.  I love it, I think it’s perfect – I love the two petals.  It’s another one to add to my collection of “things”.  Not sure what I am doing with these “things” yet but I’m leaning towards a box…Still no word from the friend regarding the certificates.  I understand it’s hard to think about and I’m going to be patient until I hear from her.  Thank you for all the amazing thoughts and words…my little invisible army…thanks.
MEMORY
My mind lets go a thousand things,
Like dates of wars and deaths of kings,
And yet recalls the very hour – 
‘Twas noon by yonder village tower,
And on the last blue moon in May – 
The wind came briskly up this way,
Crisping the brook beside the road;
Then, pausing here, set down its load
Of pine-scents, and shook listlessly
Two petals from that wild-rose tree.
~ Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Rooting for Me

July 10, 2009

This is a bit of a followup to yesterday’s post.  When I got home last night, there was a package from a friend – a fellow Sigma Kappa – who makes jewelry (actually, it’s funny because I have two friends who are Sigma Kappas and make jewelry – this is “B”).  She had responded to my cry for a need for something to change my luck, cleanse my aura, whatever and she made me 2 necklaces and a bracelet.  One necklace is amber with amethyst, the other is moonstone with a matching bracelet.  Each type of stone has a meaning but really, what I wanted to talk about was the the spirit of the pieces themselves.

See, I forget, I have people rooting for me.  Everyday, countless people root for me.  I have a keychain that K gave me marking the year anniversary of when the boys were born that I look at daily and know, she is hoping and wishing that things will be good for me.  She’s on my team.  I have people like G, who read yesterday’s post and say, “oh, looks like we need a lunch, how’s next week?”  I know that I am often in her thoughts.  People like my West Coast K, who sends notes almost weekly, just checking in and always knows the right thing to say.  People like B who make lovely, lovely things to reverse my bad “mojo” and whether it works or not (and I do beleive these things work), I wear this necklace today and know that she is rooting for me.

For me, it’s still a struggle to get up in the morning.  It’s hard to face the day knowing that your children died and I don’t know any other way to say that to people.  It’s hard and that may seem obvious but unless you live it, you have no idea how hard.  These little things, along with the intense love that I have for Hubby and that I know he has for me, they help me remember that people are rooting for me, they help me get up and go on.

So does that mean I’m coming out of hiding? 

Yes, but slowly. 

And on my own terms.

You still won’t see me at a baby show anytime soon.

It’s Not About Me…

April 24, 2009

This isn’t a post about me or maybe it is…

Someone I care about very much has been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder – we will call him “H” for Husband and her “W” for Wife.  It’s been a hard road for this family to get to where they are right now.  Both H and W have been down a road with lots and lots of obstacles – some seemingly insurmountable and unsurvivable but still, they have endured.  H finally will get the help that he needs.  I’m so proud of the way they have handled things – especially W, she has a grace and presence of mind that awes me daily.

So why am I writing about this on my blog?  One, because I love them and two, because it’s a reminder to me that I need people in my life who support me and I want to have people who I can support back.  Sometimes I feel like I have taken more than I have given in the last year.  I know that’s “allowed,” I know that’s okay given the circumstances but I’ve never been that person before…someone so needy, where it’s all about me…I guess it’s a little glimmer that I’m getting back a little of the me that isn’t heartbroken, lost and hurt.  I know she’s in here somewhere, she just has a hard time swimming to the surface…

There is a song by 3 Doors Down called, “Let Me Be Myself” and while whole the song speaks to me, two lines really explain how I feel lately:

 “I’ll never see the light of day living in this cell.” 

“It’s time to make my way back into the world I knew.”

Maybe that’s where H is right now – making his way back.

Happy Holidays

December 17, 2008

So I knew the holidays were going to be tough but actually, it’s been a little easier than I thought  it would be.  I have been staying busy, spending time with friends and hubby (who practically beat the Christmas spirit into me) and in general, trying to make peace with this time of year.  I received some lovely cards and emails from people, taking the time to tell that they are thinking of me and the boys right now and you have no idea (actually if you are my people, you do) what that means to me. 

There is this fear in every person who has lost a child that your child will be forgotten.  When people say to me “you know, I was thinking of you and the boys,” I know that they were remembering what the boys meant to me and Hubby.  You would think that we would want to forget but I don’t and neither does Hubby.  The boys existed and I know that no one got to see them (there are pictures but they are safely tucked away with a family member until Hubby and I are ready and perhaps, one day, we will share them but I think I want to spare you from looking at a picture of a lifeless baby) but let me assure, they existed, they were real and I love them and miss them.

I guess what I am saying is, that despite the awful loss that I have experienced this year, I have been reminded of some wonderful things that I do have in my life.  Your cards and emails remind of that everyday.  I save everyone of them – I do!  Emails and cards.  My husband, my friends, my family….people who care for me enough to email me out of the blue or call me to check in on me, that’s a great gift.

So thank you and Happy Holidays.  I love and appreciate all of you.  While I have a feeling next year will be better, I know that I will always need and cherish every one of you and I am grateful for all of you.

Honoring My Boys

October 15, 2008

I know that I said I wasn’t going to do anything for National Pregnancy and Infant Loss and Remembrance Day but I changed my mind.

I am honoring my babies by telling all of you that have been so supportive and loving and kind, thank you and I love you and I am grateful for your friendship.

This loss has made Hubby and I realize how lucky we are to have wonderful friends and family to cry with us, get angry with us and distract us from the pain.  At least something good has come from all of this misery.  I can never repay the kindnesses that I have received from friends both in “real life” and here in “cyberland,” I can only say I am truly grateful and touched.

Thank you.

Love Letters

October 2, 2008

I wish I could post the emails that I get from my dearest friends but there is a selfish part of me that wants them all to myself.  I cherish them like they are little expensive chocolates given as a gift and I don’t want to share.  I savor them, looking at them over and over until I finally devour them.  These notes are so special and so wonderful that every single one has made me cry.  The people who send these notes – Karla, Deb, Jess, Jenn-Jenn, Angie, KB, Gretchen, Frankie, Judy, Lou, Marilyn, Cindy and many others – they write down their warm thoughts and hopes and wishes for me, taking time from their own busy lives, jobs and families, putting aside their own happiness and problems to make sure that I know that they love me and miss me and hurt with me and for me.  These notes are little gifts.

I used to feel lonely in my grief.  When this first happened, I felt all alone and frustrated – like I wrote about in yesterday’s post.  I obviously still have days like that.  I would wrestle with bouts of hope and sadness, happiness and anger.  I was starting to feel a little bipolar.  I tried my little “gratitude list” where I would repeat things I was thankful for when the voices in my head turned dark and negative.  It hard though, to try and talk yourself out of the negative.  I am my own worst critic, my own worst enemy.  That inner voice can talk me into a full blown meltdown quicker than even my mother – and that’s saying something.

So upon reading a really wonderful, mascara-ruining, snot-icle creating (snot-icles are my hubby’s word for when you cry so hard that the snot hangs out of your nose like an icicle – a “snot-icle”), email this morning from Deb, I am taking these “love letters” and I am printing them out (what? You think I deleted them? Oh no…never) and I am carrying them with me in my purse.  When that voice of doubt and sadness and anger and pain starts shouting to me, I am pulling out my love letters.  When those feelings of sadness and self-doubt and worthlessness rear their ugly heads, I’m reading my letters.  Even if I have to pull over on the way home from work, I will do it.

Besides, reading these letters are better than muttering to myself in Target like an escaped mental patient.