Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Why Us?

I think every parent who has ever had their child die wonders this very quesion; why us?  I know I did.  I do.  The wondering has become less frequent and is usually trigger by an event, a comment, or something of that nature.  Such is the case today.  Today, one of my FB friends made a comment on another users page.  This page happens to be a couple who was expecting quads.  Well, the quads were born today.  All alive.  All fine.  They also happened to be delivered by the same doc who delivered me.  It happened...the anger, the hatred and the saddness became all consuming.  It only took a milisecond.  I couldn't breathe.  So why, why does this couple get to have all four of their babies survive and we lost Charlie.  I'm sure she did everything to keep her little ones in as I did too.  I'm sure her babies were as wanted as ours.  So, what makes her so special that all of her children survived and mine did not.  Don't misunderstand my anger at our life/situation as me wishing one of her children had died.  The thought of another family feeling the way that I do is appaulling.  I would never wish this on anyone.  To say that life isn't fair is the understatement of the year.  It isn't.  I know this.  Regardless of what my brain knows, my heart doesn't listed.  For even though it has a  thick scab on the wound that losing Charlie left, it still splits open from time to time.  Being it is Christmas time, that scab has worn thin.  It is starting to bleed.  I think Christmas is going to be a lot of fun this year.  It has certainly been a joy to watch the girls delight in the Christmas tree and all of the decorations. I imagine he would have been saying the lights are "cute" just like Emma and saying "oh wow" just like Kate.  Maybe he would have had some other word for his joy.  I don't know.  I will never know.  I hate this.  I hate this journey.  I hate that our son died.  I hate...I hate...I hate..I hate.  It doesn't matter.  It doesn't matter how much I hate.  It doesn't matter how much I wish.  This cannot be undone.  I can't wish it away.  This is reality.

Monday, July 2, 2012


On Father's Day one of my husband's worst fears came true.  He had to call me while I was out of town and tell me something was wrong with one of our animals.  It was Einstein.  Einstein was my cat who Derek ultimately adopted.  The day I went to pick out a kitten at the Humane Society, it was he who was climbing up the cage they were in.  Reaching for me.  Meowing...begging me to resucue him.  When he was little he was this precosious, ornery, smart, and crafty kitten.  He got into the trash.  Ate spaghetti O's and twizzlers.  He could catch a mouse like no other.  In silent stalkery.  I am happy to say my little green eyed boy didn't waver in those things the older he got. 

The Friday night before I left to go to STL the girls and I sat on the couch eating rice pudding.  Einstein was right there eating his fair share.  (He always did have a taste for whatever I was eating...very un-cat like)  I left for STL on Saturday morning.  If only I had known I would have given him more rice pudding.  I would have petted him more.  I would have told him I loved him.  I would have let him sleep in bed with me one more time.

Sunday morning Derek called me.  Einstein was having a siezure and it was not stopping.  After our friend Kristy came to be with the girls he took my boy to the Emergency Vet.  After they finally got the siezure to stop and ran some tests, it was apparent his quality of life was compromised.  While I was sitting at the cemetary with Charlie, Derek and I made the decison to put Einstein to sleep.  Just saying that hurts my heart. 

Derek held him while the vet administered the injection.  He said it was instantanious and that he stroked his head and told him how much we love him.  I hate that I wasn't there.  He was my constant companion for almost 14 years.  In the end, I was not there for him

I picked up his ashes on Thursday night.  As I held this little gold container, I could no longer keep myself composed.  I began to wail.  Cry loudly and so hard in the parking lot of the vets office.  Derek stared at me, helpless.  Until he wrapped his arms around me to soften the sobs.  It was at that moment, I realized my friend was never coming home.  I had managed to avoid reality until then.

I know...I know...I know...he was just a cat.  I'm sure that is what many of you are saying.  Afterall, we have survived losing a child.  We can certainly survive losing a cat.  Yes, this is true.  But, he wasn't just a cat.  He was so not just a cat.  He was my daughters' best friend.

Friday, May 25, 2012

20 Months...Where has the time gone

You know, in the beginning, I struggled with breathing.  I focused all of my energy on Emma and Kate.  Maybe that is how I survived.  By doing that, did I somehow neglect Charlie?  I find myself fighting so hard to make sure people know he existed.  That he is a part of our family whether he is on Earth or in Heaven.  Then I stop, and I remember that every single conversation I had with people included him.  I didn't let the doctors or nurses call the girls twins.  I recall how I would sit at night and rock his little blue hat while sobbing.  That little blue hat is one of the most important pieces of attire I will ever touch.  It is the last thing to ever touch him.

So here we are, 20 months later.  So much has changed.  Yet, so much has stayed the same.  The girls of course have exponentially changed.  (more about them in a second)  I have changed.  I suppose I am a softer than I was in the early months.  I'm not as angry as I was before.  While I still wish Charlie had never died, I am not projecting that desire with every fiber of my body.  My sense of humor is slowly coming back.  I think the fog is lifting.  I've felt that way for a few months now.  That the haze was starting to dissapate.  I don't know that I like that.  Because no matter how hard I fight to make sure everyone knows Charlie was here and that he is part of my family, I feel like he is becoming less of a prescence.  Maybe that is normal.  Maybe -- just like every loved one who has passed, he will become a memory.  It is so very difficult to explain. 

Emma and Katie are just hilarious.  They are smart (a little too smart), funny, sweet, ornery, and the lights of my life.  I just can't imagine life without them. 

Emma:  has a pretty extensive vocabulary.  She says:  buh bye, hi, hello, kitty, doggie, moooo, "it's okay", awwww, cup, momma, daddy, "let's go", up, shoe, one, two, five, and high five, amen and probably others.  She is ornery.  She is the kid who will look straigh at you and spit her milk just because she can.  She is funny.  She is so animated.  Like a little cartoon character.  She is sweet.  Emma is very caring.  When Kate is throwing a temper tantrum she will walk over and rub her belly and tell Kate "it's okay".  Emma is still throwing some monumental temper tantrums.  Throwing her self in the floor and screaming.  Throwing things.  Screaming like a banchee when she is mad.  Emma is stubborn-squared.  I really think she got my families stubborness and Derek's stubborness.  She loves to dance.  She can't help it.  A song comes on the iPhone and her little butt starts to wiggle.  She can't control it.  She loves music.  Not just any music, but music with a beat or that is upbeat and peppy.  A few of her favorite songs are Skrillex "Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites", Fun "We Are Young", and a few other dub step genre songs. 

Kate: has finally started talking!  While her vocabulary is quite as extensive as Emma's she still says quite a bit:  bye bye, hello, hi, cup, uppie, quack quack, moooo, kitty, dog, mommy, daddy, Emma, 'it's okay', shoe, awwww, one, two, amen and high five.  She is so sweet.  It is kind of ridiculous.  She is a pleaser.  She generally goes with the flow.  She likes to run around screaming the funniest noises.  But, like her sister she can be stubborn.  She does lay in the floor and arch her back while pushing herself across the floor.  Her big fits end up in her turning purple and passing out.  I will never get used to that.  It still scares the ever living crap out of us.  Kate is also very shy.  It takes her a good 45 minutes to warm up to you.  Once she does, she is okay.  She loves her stuffed cow during the day.  When she is having a moment, she will go find her cow and carry it around.  At night, she sleeps with Mr. Frog.  She tucks her blanket and her frog under her belly and sleeps on them.  She is still climbing on anything and everything.  Once she tackles, Emma follows.  she also likes to dance, but she isn't quite as wiggly as Emma.  She enjoys the same songs as Emma, but also enjoys Micheal Jackson's "Billie Jean". 

We have started praying at night before we go to bed.  It has become part of our bedtime routine.  I think it is so adorable to hear them each say "amen" when we are finished.  Other things they enjoy:  bubbles, finger paining, their water table, taking showers with mommy (thank goodness they don't realize what being naked is...yet), spitting milk everywhere, Yo Gabba Gabba (this show is like crack, it is the only tv they are allowed to watch), and taking walks with me in the evening.

I just cannot believe they will be 2 in four short months.  I just don't know where the time has gone...

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Happy Easter

The Duckies
Charlie and the duckies
Katie, Emma, Charlie, and duckies
Katie and the duckies
Emma and the duckies
This morning started with seeing the goodies the Easter Bunny brought them. They got
Easter Bunny ears, some mini m&m's, bracelets, Bubble Wands, and slinky's. BUT the greatest part of their Easter weekend was the BABY DUCKIES! We got to play with two baby duckies! Emma loved them. Kate wanted to, but she was a little overwhelmed by them. She did touch them and laugh at them. However when they got in her lap...she wanted them removed. Emma didn't mind them in her lap until they started nipping at her.

18 Months

A whole year and a half! I'm completely amazed at them every day. Not only are they just completely amazing, but they are funny too.
Emma says: Uh oh, Hi, poop poop, doggie, kitty, cat, cup, katie bug, bug bug, I get.
Kate says: Hi, Hello, uh oh, kitty, cup, do it, and cup.
They make me laugh regularly. Especially when they give each other High Fives :)
However, Kate has a new trick. She has started biting. She bit Emma on the nose they other day and today I watched her get mad and try to bite Emma on the chest.
Emma is still throwing herself in the floor or the porch when she doesn't get her way. She is also hitting, yes, hitting.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

I've learned a few things...

It seems that everyday someone new is added to this "club". This shitty club of sadness, anger, and despair. Strangely, my role within this club has changed. I am no longer the one who is needing the support, but the one who is providing the support. It seems so odd to me. If you had told me those first few months that I would be in this place, I would have called you a liar. For at that time, I could barely breathe let alone imagine I might someday offer sound advice to someone in this same position.

Somewhere along the road I have learned a few things.

I have learned that I no longer tolerate things that I did before. Petty things just don't bode well with me anymore.

I've learned that even if I don't want to, I will continue to survive. If not for myself, but for my girls. They make life worth living and then some.

I've learned that life isn't fair. It wasn't fair we were semi-infertile. It wasn't fair that I did everything I could to keep the three of them safe and Charlie died anyway.

I've learned not everyone understands. No matter how much I wish they did.

I've learned that people will always disappoint you in the end.

I've learned people who share a similar story, make wonderful friends.

I've learned there are far more of us out there than anyone ever cared to know.

While to average reader, this might all seem very cynical. Perhaps. Perhaps, it is just a glimpse of the person you become when you lose a child. For no life, regardless of how short it may be is insignificant. That the grieving parent, deserves to grieve however they muddle through. That support shouldn't end after a period of time. And those people who do not understand, should take a few lessons from us. If nothing else, to learn empathy.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Valentine's Day

Katie, Charlie, and Emma

Valentine's Day 2012

I'm sitting here thinking about what Valentine's Day means to me. Before 2010 it meant nothing really. It happens to be my BFF Paula's birthday, but otherwise, it wasn't a big deal. Then Valentine's Day 2010 happened. That was the day we saw our three little babies for the first time. They were 2 - 6 celled embryos and 1 - 8 cell embryo. They were the most beautiful balls of cells I had ever seen. Carefully, our doctor transferred from their petri-dish to my womb. When it was all finished, I laid on the gurney. Derek and I staring at the first photos of our children. On that day Valentine's Day became special to me. A day that I will treasure for the rest of my life. For that day, I became a mother. Or at least, had the potential to become a mother.

Fast forward to last year's Valentine's Day. That day was filled with emotion. It had only been 5 months since the birth of the babies and the death of our little prince. I was so sad. So very sad as I reflected on the feelings I had that year before. You see, as I layed on the gurney looking at those pictures, I was so hopeful. I was also so very terrified. That we would either not get pregnant at all or lose one or two of our little embryos. Not ever thinking that exact thing would happen 8 months later. That our second Valentine's Day as a family would be missing one of those balls of cells.

As Valentine's Day this year approaches, I have some of the same feelings. Feelings of joy and sadness all intertwined. I suspect it will come and go without incident. We will celebrate the best we can. Maybe I will gather enough courage to look at those pictures again and try to go back to that day. The day full of joy, hope, and naivety.