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.

Einstein

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

16 Months

Yesterday the monkey's turned 16 months. They are running, climbing, and generally just being funny. Emma says: kitty kitty kitty, uh oh, hi, get, and several other things that while I can't quite make them out I know she is saying things. According to the developmental psychologist she has quite an extensive vocabulary. Kate isn't chatting quite as much. She is very good at pointing and showing me what she wants. She is communicating, just differently. Again, according to the developmental psychologist, she too has a good vocabulary. They got a stuffed dolphin for Christmas that miss Katie absolutely loves. When I ask her where here "ee ee" is she laughs and runs and finds it. Why do we call the dolphin "ee ee"? Well, becuase that is the sound a dolphin makes don't you know. These two little girls just keep me laughing.

Generally, the 23rd of the month comes and goes these days. In the beginning I noticed it. I dreaded the 23rd of each month. Yesterday, I was sitting at my desk and I realized it was the 23rd and I happen to look at the time at 11:37 am. Three minutes before we were told Charlie had died 16 months before. All of the sudden those emotions came flooding back. I kept it under control, which is something I would have NEVER been able to do just a few short months ago. I just sat at my desk feeling sad. I left work, thinking I was in the clear. Nope...not so much. I went grocery shopping. When I went to check out the song "Far Away" by Nickleback came on. I started to cry at the check out. The line "I love you, I wanted you to stay..." gets me every time (as I tear up writing it).

While time continues to pass, the feelings aren't as raw. Charlie is never far from my thoughts. I still wonder what he would look like and how he would be right now. How would he fit in with the girls. Would he be the leader or the follower. Would he have a wicked temper like Miss Emma or would he have a longer fuse like Miss Kate. I really hope he wouldn't be a breath holder - turn purple - pass outter kind of kid like Miss Kate, who did that three times during dinner last night. I will never know any of these answers. But I won't stop wondering.

Having a Charlie Moment...

This has been a rough week. Not only at work, but just in general. It seems like everywhere I turn there is triplet "stuff". Commercials, families, even a surgeon used triplets in an analogy. It isn't that I ever want to forget I had triplets. I absolutely don't. However, seeing/hearing this stuff just hurts. I was part of this special "club" of women to carry three babies at one time. And while that part doesn't change, I only have two of them in my arms. My arms aren't full. My heart isn't full. With this comes all of the same questions of "why us?" Clearly, I will never know or understand the reason. It doesn't make things easier.

I suppose part of the reason it has been particularly difficult is Katie Bug's NY Eve incident and we lost our friend Dr. Knerr. Charlie and he share the same name. The world lost another Charles. Sigh...

I haven't been able to get the image of Katie out of my head. I imagine that she and Charlie would have looked similar. Atleast they did when they were born. I was scared. I'm still scared. I feel like I had finally let my guard down a little bit and WHACK! there is another little reminder that they can be taken away from us at any minute. That thought is just too much to bare.

Today I also read up on a story I followed two years ago. It was about a little boy in Peoria who was very sick with leukemia and was not expected to make it until Christmas. So, people all around his home town and the country put up Christmas lights in Oct/Nov and shared photos of them for him. He loved Christmas lights. Well, he passed away after not too long after Christmas. He was just a little guy. 2-ish. His mom is amazing. She has done so many wonderful things to honor her son. They also had another baby. She is just about the same age as the girls. They had posted a photo of their family together at the cemetary. We've taken that same photo. I hate it.

I hate that there are so many families who know what it feels to lose a child. Whether their child is born too soon or like Dr. Knerr's mother, their child is 65. It isn't fair.

So, while I was sitting here thinking about Charlie. How his fingernail on his right pinky was long and mishaped. That his feet looked just like mine. That he had so much dark brown hair. And that he had the cutest little lips. I decided to google him. Most of what comes up is about his website that quite frankly, I have failed at keeping up. But, a few other things come up. One is a memorial his Grandma/Grandpa Haake dedicated to him at College Church. And the other is a dedication I did for him on CarlyMarie Dudley's website. I had forgotten I did this.

It certainly describes how I feel about him and I thought I would share it.


Jennifer Haake says:
December 5, 2011 at 4:21 pm
My Charlie, each day you bring me joy and happiness that I cannot describe. You are the bright star in the sky that I wish upon. You are the rainbow that comes before the rain. You are that part of me that will forever be missing. I love you little boy. Merry Christmas.
Love,
Daddy, Mommy, Emma and Katie
Remembering Charles Douglas Haake, born still September 23, 2010

Happy New Year!

Our New Year's Eve was spent driving. We said one more good bye to Charlie and hit the road for home. It seemed to take forever. We pulled into our driveway at 11:00. One hour until midnight...yay! The girls were troopers during the drive. (Thank goodness for the Muppet movie and their Calm Baby video) We opted to let them play for a few before we put them to bed. Afterall, 10 hours in a car makes a person stiff.

At 11:30 I grabbed Emma to get her jammies on. Derek grabbed Kate. Kate started to cry. She cried so hard that she turned blue. Not just a little dusky because she was crying hard. She hadn't inhaled. It felt like an eternity. Her face turned purple, her lips were blue. Her eyes, I can't describe her eyes. I believe she may have lost consciousness. When she finally started to cry, she was dazed. And as quickly as it happened, she was fine. She was her happy - playful self. After she was okay, I tried to finish getting Emma dressed. I couldn't. The sheer panic finally set in. My hands shook. I started hyperventilating. At one point I screamed. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I tried. Ultimately, I ran outside to try and compose myself. Leaving Derek to dress the girls. The image of her little face. Her cheruby face turning purple. Her lips turning blue. She looked like Charlie. Those same feelings of intense fear and sadness overtook me.

I came inside and let Derek have his minute. He was just as scared as I was. He just held it together much better than I did. I don't know how, but he did.

Our pediatrician had told us this may happen. That kids get really mad and hold their breath. He warned us it would be very scary. Scary is an understatement.

About 10 to midnight we put them to bed. I'm not sure either of us realized midnight came and went.

We drank our champagne and waited to ring in Charlie's New Year. At midnight his time we toasted our New Year. We turned off our Christmas lights for him and went to bed.

Here we are...2012. One more year away from him. Sigh.