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.