1 Year

It has been a year since our world turned upside down, and we learned how cruel life truly can be.  Tomorrow will mark 1 year since we learned that Robbie died.  It also is the anniversary of many changes that came into our lives--whether we wanted the change or not.
Its hard to believe how fast this year went by.  When I remember the events that unfolded, it seems to be in slow motion.  But life still goes on.  Events happen, birthdays are celebrated, and the world continues no matter how earth shattering the news.  And here we are...one year later.
We have two boys in Heaven...not one.  We learned how deeply we wanted to have more children.  We saw the depth of our love...for our sons that we had such a short time with...for our daughters...for our families...and for each other.
We have learned to cherish each day with the girls...the tears over homework and not knowing what to wear to school...and to have family game/movies nights more and computer time less.  That the value in our family is spending quality time together...and not just being in the same room.
We realized that we deserve to be happy, and no one has the right to take that happiness away, or control if we are happy or not.  We prioritized our life...work became just that....work, and family was the utmost priority.  Work is not allowed to dominate our home life...even with the worst days.
We learned to let go, and we learned to forgive.  As Shannon Tate-Simmons said "Forgiveness isn't for the other person, its for you to heal."  A lesson we wished we learned earlier, but its never too late.
We know how important that kiss goodbye is in the morning, or whenever we leave the house.  To tell everyone how much we love them--even if we just saw them several days in a row.  Nothing is taken for granted in our lives.  Our eyes were opened to just how quickly the ones we love can be taken from us.
We are grateful to have a home, not just a house.  We are thankful to have been surrounded by so many friends (new and old) and family to carry us through the darkest days.
We learned that blood is thicker than water...but not always.  There's always one in the family that doesn't get it, and is isolated.  And that sometimes friendships can be repaired through the smallest of gestures.  We found that we have more friends that really do care about us, who will support us and make us smile, and who we love hanging around to remember that while circumstances have made us older (maybe wiser), we are still young and have so much to enjoy from life.
We learned to have faith, and the necessity of hope.  We renewed our faith in God, and are learning to trust that what He has planned for us is better than anything we can ask for.  And we are showing our daughters how important hope, faith, love and trust is in any relationship.
I have watched as Mario has developed a bond with the girls that I didn't think was possible.  I see how grateful he is to have a family...even if its not the one he planned on having.
We have seen how petty our arguments were, and how stupid and careless it was of us to waste our time bickering.  Instead of wasting our time together its time to renew our marriage, our friendship, and make our time meaningful.
There is still heartache, grief, and sorrow.  There is still the pain of waking up and knowing that we don't have a boys with us physically.  The pain is definitely still there, although not directly on the surface.  But one thing that is helping as this first year comes to a close is that life as we know it died with Robbie.  But that doesn't mean our lives were over.  In fact, in many, many ways we are just beginning a new chapter.
I decided a month ago that I am ready to try again.   I don't know if we'll have an opportunity, and I don't know if the same thing is going to happen again.  But I have to have faith and hope that whatever happens is for the good for myself and my family.  Losing two babies killed me--it broke my heart.  But my heart has mended, and I am ready to hope, to have faith that things may work out.
But to all of my followers who read the blog, and many who use it as a gauge to see how I'm doing...thank you.  Thank you for reading, for commenting and for emailing me to check on me.  I know I owe emails to so many of you!  But this last month really has been a doozy.  But I take comfort in that the year of firsts is over...first christmas, first thanksgiving, first birthday, etc.  I will never forget my boys...they are with me every single moment of every day.  But so are my daughters and my husband.  It has been a sad year.  But sad stuff happens.  And a year ago I couldn't have seen any positive to come out of such a tragedy.  But today I can, with the darkness behind us.  And I have so much to be thankful for.  So as I cry tonight, for lost hopes and dreams, for the couple last year that lost everything, or so they thought, I also realize how much that couple has gained.  And hope for them that one day, their hopes and dreams do come true.

And I'll leave with with a picture taken just this weekend...of the young couple who had endured so much in the first 2 years of marriage.  These two crazy kids just might make it after all!

Variables and Constants

“The only thing constant in life is change”  Francois de la Rochefoucauld

First, let me start by apologizing for not posting more frequently.  It has been a terribly difficult month for me emotionally...reminders at every turn of what we have lost.  And I have found that the best way I can handle my emotions is staying terribly busy, so that at night I have no choice but to lay down and sleep from exhaustion!  Its a good kind of busy--positive energy.  I am busy at work, adjusting to being back to my old stomping ground; busy at home, with my two daughters and school and the chaotic-ness that comes with the start of new routines; busy on the weekends, trying new things and making memories with my family; busy planning October 15th's event, an event that is both bitter and sweet, and oh so necessary.  It's not easy.  Many mornings I want to just pull the covers up and stay in bed.  But I know I don't have the time to allow myself a pity party.  As our priest said during the homily on Sunday, why do we think life has to be fair?  That's a misconception on our part as human beings.  And what is fair to us may not be fair to someone else.  And while I still don't think its fair for any of us to have ever had the loss of a child, I can understand the priest's point of view.  Only God knows what is fair for us.  And it also may not be fair for "right now".  Fair doesn't mean right.  We can only hope (there's that elusive word) that somehow, over time, things do work out for the best.  And that is so much easier to type than it is to believe! (by the way, the homily was based on Luke 9: 7-9, the one where the last shall be first, and the man hires workers who work varying hours during the day for him, but all make the same rate, regardless if they worked 8 hrs or 1 hr).  

But in the last few weeks I have come to realize that really, the only thing constant in my life is change.  And I first heard this quote in college during an honors literature class I had to take (i love reading, but this course was a challenge!).  boy, what i wish i knew what I know now!  What i could have shared with the class!!  For those of you who don't know me very well, I am a very strong Type A personality.  I like control, I like knowing what is happening, and going to happen.  I love lists and plans.  The last year especially has been so hard for me because I can't control anything...And I wish I could!  Just control one little thing.  Since the end of summer, I went back to my former district, to teach my former courses, with all the teachers that groomed me to be the teacher I became, to advise my former club (which apparently no one else wants to run), but as a completely different person with a completely new perspective and new found respect and appreciation.  I haven't stopped smiling.  While everything has changed, it feels like home.  I feel a difference in myself, in how I am in the classroom.  Barely anyone knows about the boys...only because I am only sharing it if people ask, or if I feel it is pertinent information (its not right now).  So I also don't get pitying looks and hugs.  At my job, I am me, and I am happy and bubbly, and have a great reputation for being an understanding yet strict teacher.  Its nice.  At home, my girls take the bus to school (another change), and in the afternoon, my youngest takes the bus home.  My oldest either gets picked up by my friend, or stays at school for an extra 20 minutes until I can arrive.  Its a whole new schedule, and the girls are changing too, but still, there is a sense of their need for their parents.  No matter how big they get, they still run to me when they don't feel good, or have a bad day at school.  

So I'm getting used to this permanent state of change.  The minute things get too predictable, that's when you need to expect things to go awry.  I don't have tenure, or have a bigger home, or a problem free life, or a six month old, or expecting a baby in 1 month.  I do have a loving family that I appreciate now more than ever who keeps me on the sane path, I have a job at a school that I know I love and appreciate, with a wonderful support network in place, I have two healthy girls growing bigger and more independent every day, I have a husband who tries with all his might to give me everything that he thinks we may want to need, and, most importantly, I have hope.  

It's the Most Wonderful Time Of The Year....

Yes, my title comes from that beloved Staples commerical, of a parent dancing through the aisles as his children are somber and miserable.

As a parent, I think this commercial is great! As a teacher, I dread seeing it because I know that summer is coming to an end!  But this year, I didn't see it on tv.  One of my FB friends posted it.  And until I saw it, I began thinking about how for me, this really is the most wonderful time of the year.  Sadly, as much as I wasn't ready to go back to work, I was looking forward to it.  I've been getting the girls and myself ready for a month--with clothes and shoe shopping, talking about their teachers and planning the morning and afternoon routines of picking up, dropping off, and bus rides.  I even went to my classroom twice to "get it ready".  I felt good this weekend, relaxed, and ready to start the new year.

For me, the first day of school is my "new year's".  And I was looking forward to getting this year started...it has to be better than last year--right????  And I was hoping that once this year got rolling maybe some ideas would come to me about moving on, on trying again.  If that doesn't happen, at least I'm keeping busy!  My weekends are packed up until November--which is what I want.  I have Rango's due date coming up on October 15th, and the 1 year anniversary of Robbie's death coming up the week before Thanksgiving.  I want to stay busy so I don't have any down time to break down.  It hurts enough to think of the fact that we were so hopeful we could have a baby by the time the year anniversary came around.  It is actually emotionally debilitating to think that in this year that has flown by we have two babies in heaven, not just one.

So, as much as I thought I was ready for September to come, I really wasn't.  I spent last night stressing out, rushing around and tying up all loose ends, making sure my daughters had their lunches packed and book bags and outfits ready to go first thing, trying on different outfits on myself, making sure I had the perfect "first day" look.
And then it hit me...the last time I was in a classroom I was pregnant with Rango.  I haven't been back to work since.  And as much as I had an extended summer, I don't feel relaxed or ready to start school again.  I don't think any of us were truly ready this morning when the alarms went off at 5:20am.  But ready or not, our school year began.  We left the house at 6:30am to start the rush to our 4 different schools!  And amazingly, we all made it in one piece.
My husband went back to the same school he was at last year, and felt comfortable and ready to start the year.  My oldest went back to her old school, and found she had many friends in her class!  My youngest started kindergarten, and was also pleased as punch to find she had old friends from preschool in her class.  And I returned to my stomping grounds and while I was anxious about how I would be emotionally, I found it was so easy--it was like I had never left!  And the day flew by...the jitters went away, I joked with my colleagues and friends, and I don't think I stopped smiling once.  I was happy!  And while my body decided this morning to give me yet another reminder that I was no longer pregnant, I pushed all the sadness and despair away.  I had my fresh start and was able to return to the district I knew and belonged in.
And I did fine up until my last class...when a very pregnant student walked into the classroom.  I saw her waddling down the hallway...and I kept praying please please turn into another classroom, don't come here,  but of course, she came to my room.  And she showed me her schedule, and proceeded to tell me that she was due in October and would be leaving in a few weeks to have her baby.  Seriously!?!?!  I just nodded and don't think I said one word.  And into the classroom she went.  A friend came walking by and I grabbed her. She just learned about my boys last week, and I told her I had to say something because I didn't know how I was going to handle this student.  She completely understood and told me she would check on me throughout the class period.  I knew I would have pregnant students...but to have the one that is due when I was due is just uncanny.  I know I'm going to need more strength and courage than I ever anticipated...but maybe I'm ready, maybe I'm not.  Only time will tell...maybe I can avoid her for the rest of the year ;-)  She is in a big class!
But as I drove home to pick up my daughters and find out about their day, I reflected on the end of summer, and how this is the most wonderful time of the year.  Summer is a lazy time, of time with family and friends, lounging around or going on bike rides.  No certain schedules, sleeping late and staying up past when the fireflies come out.  The fall is a time to get moving again.  Of routine, of preparing, of anticipation of what is coming (Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, snow and cold weather).  Fall has always been my favorite season--the changes in foliage, the crisp temperatures, the way the sun hits in the golden afternoons.  It is a promise of things coming.  And while a trip to Staples might not prepare me completely for the year ahead, at least I can rejoice in the fact that summer is over and its time to move on.  And who knows what the year will bring...that is about as positive as I can be right now.  I know more change is coming.  And whether I like it or not, I am being forced into the next season of my life.  It can only get better from here!

Dreams

Last night I had a dream.  Normally, I do have dreams, but I don't remember them.  Since the boys died (after Robbie and Rango too) I've prayed to have some dream, some way to see my boys to know they are okay.  I didn't get that.  I got other signs--dandelions, pennies and my husband  and daughter telling me what their dreams were about (one or two each, not many).  So, I learned to be content with that.
But last night, for some reason, I woke up and remembered my dream vividly.  And the more I thought about the dream, the more I realized where it took place, and who was there.
I was on my college campus.  It was present time, because I was walking with all my college friends and their kids (M and her son, K and her son, my roomate and her children, another friend M) and we were all our current ages.  Some current friends were there too.  And we were walking around the campus with strollers and bags, showing the kids where we went to school, and telling them stories of what we did.  And I was getting very tired, and wanted to go eat.  So I started questioning why we were still walking around.  They told me we just had to keep walking.  I handed a stroller off to my friend M, who in turn was trying to handle her very active son.  I held her son while we began our steep climb up to our campus.  I asked why we had to go up that road--there was a better road (on the other side of the campus) that we could get to the dining hall to.  But uphill we trudged, with K's son pulling and squirming, trying to get down and run up the big hill.
Finally, we reached the top of the hill, and they told me we were almost there.  I asked where, because I just wanted to sit.  Both of the little boys (D and C) were trying to run around and go back down the hill!  Finally, my friends told me they had to delay me for my baby shower, and if I could please just act surprised, there was a delay at the hotel restaurant, and that's why we were walking around forever.  I complied, but asked if we could please get to the hotel at least so I could just sit and the boys could run around in a contained facility.  They agreed, and off we went.  C and D took turns sitting on my lap once we got to the hotel, because I was sitting on a lavishly decorated swing, with lots of metal work on the top.  C kept trying to climb it to go upside down, and finally got his head stuck inside.  I was panicking, because his mom or dad wasn't around, and I was sure I was going to get in huge trouble!  But when K and M showed up, they laughed, freed C and then took me into the baby shower.
It was Sesame Street themed.  Presents, cookies, little cakes, and all decorations.  Everyone I knew was there, and so excited for us.  I was confused and angry because the family had agreed that if I got pregnant again, there would be no shower.  But everyone told me not to worry...this time was going to be fine.  Then I woke up.
As I went through getting ready, I was sorting out the details of the dream (like why my girlfriends sons were such a prominent role), and why Sesame Street (b/c it was the theme to my first birthday, and my mom and stepdad threw it for me), and why I didn't know I was pregnant in the dream (b/c i was seeing it through my eyes, and obviously i wasn't looking down at my belly!).  I can't analyze the dream much more than "A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep".  I wish I could get pregnant again, and be not stressed out and enjoy it.  I wish I could have a baby shower, but everyone is going to be too nervous to throw me one before the baby is even born.  I wish I could say I'll be positive throughout the pregnancy, but I know better.
But it was nice to dream of a happy occasion, one that I wish I could have.  Where reality wasn't so harsh.  And maybe one day I'll have another dream, showing me my heart's desires, and letting me think, even if for a little while, that it is a possibility in reality.

When It Rains, It Pours

I know I haven't posted recently. Since my last post I have gone downhill emotionally. It has been very hard to try to put my thoughts into words, let alone a coherent blog entry. I thought last week, while my daughters were visiting their grandparents, I would have time to write and reflect. But, alas, southern NJ was hit with an abnormal amount of rain, and instead was dealing with massive, localized flooding. Fortunately, our house and most of our neighbors' houses faired well, with just our local lake overflowing its banks.

Our backyard--complete with a waterview

One of the many water covered roads Monday

There are three lakes; We live closest to Elmer Lake. When the dam was opened, our overflowing lake poured into Palatine Lake, which then opened its dam to make the water flow into Centerton Lake. Unfortunately, Centerton Lake's dam was in need of some serious repair. For the last several years, Centerton Lake has been a dry bed. So there was no need for worry about the dam, so the locals thought. Luckily, because Centerton Lake had been dry, the damage to Centerton and Pittsgrove was not as bad as it could have been. But it caused a lot of damage, and road closures.

Centerton Lake/ Dam Monday

But it caused a huge headache for the beginning of the week. This impended our travelling we had planned for our "staycation". While we had to go around detours to do anything, and our "staycation" had detours of its own. Saturday we went to the Pennsylvania Ren. Faire, which was cancelled at around 3pm (we arrived around 1:30) because of flooding and severe thunderstorms.

The mass exodus from the Penn. Res. Faire (if you look closely the grass is completely flooded!)

The Queen--before the rain

Sunday, the day the flooding began in southern NJ, after going out to brunch and mass, we headed home to change and head back out. But we soon had to turn around as the water flowed over and through the corn fields, because our path out was quickly covered in water! By 4:30, the storms had passed and we had a brief respite from the rain, and rode our bikes around town, surveying the damage. The water was so high in some spots that it covered our back tires. I don't have pictures of this because I didn't want to risk losing the camera in case I fell in the water!
Back to our "staycation":
Anytime Tuesday or Wednesday that we attempted to go do something, mother nature intervened. By Tuesday we were so frustrated that we were fighting about everything. Our week together was turning into a nightmare. This wasn't how it was supposed to go--we needed this time to bond, to communicate before school started. We were picking up the girls Friday, and couldn't wait. We had had enough alone time together. My thoughts were not positive on our relationship. I didn't know what to do to help us get out of this bickering pattern.
But Wednesday night we went to a friend's housewarming. Unfortunately, because I have been having a rough couple of weeks emotionally (dealing with pregnancies, babies, etc), we weren't able to stay long. We stayed long enough to have dinner and visit...but then we said our goodbyes and headed out. As petty as it seems, there was a pregnant woman there, and while all of the adults were being very sensitive, and not talking about the pregnancy (my friend had briefed everyone before we arrived, which i was so appreciative for, but felt bad too), just her standing up, rubbing her back and belly, did me in. I felt the tears start, my throat got hot and dry and choked up. I knew I had to leave. And my husband and friend didn't even question it--they just understood.

We decided since we were 15minutes from Ocean City we would go walk on the boardwalk...why not? We hadn't done anything fun all week. And walk we did, and got gelato, and went on the ferris wheel where Mario proposed 3 years ago (it seems like so much longer!). This was apparently just the spark we needed to get over this rough spot. On the way home we were able to talk about everything that was bothering us--from how we are handling questions "do we have any children yet" and "are you going to try again", to discussing how we feel about trying again, and what happens if this all happens again. We were in a good spot. We were being honest, and open, and communicating. And it meant that I was a crying mess again. Thursday morning we woke up to my mom calling to tell me A was sick and running and fever. We had to run to pick her and her sister up and be back in NJ by 4 for a doctor's appointment. Our time together was over for now...but at least we had Wednesday night. And this weekend, whenever we tried to go anywhere, the weather still didn't cooperate, but we learned from last week to just laugh it off, and make the best of it. If we continue to fight when things don't go the way we planned, its just going to make us miserable and even more disappointed.

As we drove home from the shore today (after another rained out event), I held a box of Crazy Susan's cookies on my lap, and watched the rain hit the windshield. Just like many of us feel around here that we've had enough rain this year, I feel like I've shed enough tears to last a lifetime. And when the rain or tears come, its just not a little storm either. Its a whole deluge, where the volume is enough to break the dam. And sometimes the dam needs to be broken in order to show where the weakness is. Then the areas in need of repairs can be addressed and fixed. Just like we know how badly damaged the dam was at Centeron Lake, and how badly Mario and I needed to just open up the floodgates and talk. If not, the pressure would just build until the damage would be too much, and it couldn't be fixed. And hopefully this week, with our tears and fighting, we saw where our "dam" is weak, and we can work on making it stronger. We've already had so much pressure on our young marriage, and we are about to burst. Most days he and I wonder how we'll make it through. But if we continue to open the dam once in a while to release the pressure, and check every so often so make sure the supports are strong enough, maybe we will weather the next flood. And then a 3rd try, successful or not, may not be as scary.

Expect the Unexpected

A few weeks ago I wrote about expectations, and how I needed to learn to stop expecting people to treat me the way I would want to be treated. You can say its a grim way to look at the world. As a teacher, I pride myself that I hold myself and my students to high expectations. I want them to do better, do more, and be nicer. I expect the same of myself. So to lower or rid myself of expectations of others, including family, has been a real struggle. But this week I have been reminded over and over of the kindness and goodness in others. I am speechless of everything that I've seen and experienced this week just by letting go. They were reminders that 1) I truly am not in control of anything, 2) sometimes sadness and happiness exist at the same time, but in the end looking beyond yourself and working through the hurt, the happiness and joy is much great than the sadness and grief, and 3) There are truly caring, thoughtful individuals who exist still!
This week my husband received a package in the mail. The return address was from the same company that sent me the necklace with my boys names back in June. When he opened it, he found a keychain. On it were two pennies, engraved with Robbie and Rango's names, and a larger circle, with "Pennies From Heaven" engraved on it. Here are the pictures so you can see for yourself what wonderfully touching and sentimental gifts we have been given, anonymously.

All we can say is that we are overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gifts, as they serve as a constant reminder of our boys, and we can wear/bring them with us in our daily tasks. I love my necklace, and no matter what occasion, I will wear it. I wore it to my job interview, I wear it on bike rides. It gives me a sense of comfort. My husband has been inseparable with his keyring since it arrived. Hence why it has taken me until Saturday night to write about it. I wanted to post the pictures, and he's been at work with it! They are tangible reminders that while our boys aren't with us physically (its been 9 months since Robbie died, and 8 weeks since Rango died), they are still a very big part of us, and always will be. So again, a thank you to the person or persons who made this possible! Your kindness and thoughtfulness are so overwhelming to us.

**The shop is wordinspired, on etsy. These are custom jobs, and so well made. Thank you for your gift and craftmanship to make these items that are more to us than just a necklace and keyring.

And, these gifts are also a sign of someone looking beyond themselves, to help a couple in their darkest times. It is such a selfless gift, to acknowledge as a parent what we need while we grieve. And these are perfect! (I will add this one last part--its not a target gift card! these are appropriate ways to let someone know you care and are thinking of them!). they are also totally unnecessary, and we know that they person or persons who sent them didn't have to go out of their way to do this for us. But we are grateful they thought of us and our boys.

One can pay back the loan of gold, but one dies forever in debt to those who are kind.

~Malayan Proverb

I have been surrounded by love and kindness this week. From my friends (online and in real life) and most of our family. Even two of my pregnant friends have shown me their patience and understanding by not pressuring me to see them unless I am ready. Most pregnant women avoid me at all costs, like I am cursed or taboo. But these friends embrace me, discuss my boys, and listen to my endless chatter. One friend, due in January, even took A for an afternoon, then out to dinner (our girls are friends), and bought her school supplies! She wouldn't even let me pay her back--I was speechless, and yet so grateful. She was gagging and in the midst of morning sickness, but was okay having my daughter for a day.

Another friend had E over to play, and had her stay for dinner too. This mom was exhausted (and also sick), after running VBS all week, but it was okay. I hope to repay their kindness soon.

While this week was emotionally exhausting, it did end on another positive note--I was able to get myself together and go to my girlfriend's little boy's first birthday party. I had originally rsvp'd no, and she completely understood. But I made up my mind on Monday that I needed to go--not for me, but for her. And it was wonderful. I won't lie--it was difficult, seeing all the little babies and pregnant moms. But the fact I could get back to being supportive for my friend was worth any moment of sadness I had.

And while I still do think I have to work on not expecting anything from anyone, I am glad that these friends are proving me wrong. I also want all these friends to know how much I appreciate them, and I am so glad they are in my life.

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” — Albert Schweitzer

Thank you for re-lighting my flame, all those who have thought of us!

Somewhere Only We Know

Ok---I will warn you, every time i hear this song I start to cry. so this post revolves around this song. so here's a warning, you might be crying at the end of the song. Its Somewhere Only We Know by Keane, and for most of us, the trailer to the re-release of Winnie the Pooh in theaters!



Today after i dropped my girls off at vacation bible school, i decided to go for a nice long bike ride--just me, my bike, the ipod, and my phone on silent. I knew I wanted to push myself to see just how far i could ride. Now that I've google mapped to see how far I went, I'm not impressed. But I knew it was easy, and I could have gone farther. The weather was perfect--we had some pretty impressive storms last night, so there is a great breeze, the sun is shining and the humidity is low. It was a perfect ride. Except that everytime I got to a song I liked on the ipod, i would put it in the basket, and the ipod would change it to a song it liked. how frustrating!

As I approached the 30 minute mark of my ride, this song came on the ipod. I know I start to cry. I learned this when the trailer for Winnie the Pooh came on the night we learned about Rango. Winnie the Pooh is my husband's favorite disney/kid themed movie. He has told me all about playing pooh sticks in the park. He has enlightened me on so many other Winnie the Pooh facts as well. I, on the other hand, have never seen or read Winnie the Pooh. I was a Cinderella girl. I couldn't be bothered with a boy playing in the woods with a bear who likes honey and a tiger (yes, i know tigger), and a not so optimistic eeyore. I see that I do relate to eeyore very well right now, and my husband, while i like to say is owl, can also be a tigger at times!
But I don't think I realized how important Winnie the Pooh is to my husband until we took his parents out to dinner a couple of weeks ago. For the first time, his dad (my father in law) told me stories of Mario when he was little. We've been together for 4 years, and I've never seen his dad get sentimental--i guess that's one way he's changed through losing his 2 grandsons. And i was told how he and my husband would walk to the park and play pooh sticks, and told me in detail what that was. My husband was stunned into silence, because he was taking it all in--his father was joyfully telling stories of times they spent together. But at the same time, my heart ached. I know he's tried to play pooh sticks with the girls, but they just aren't patient enough. I know he wants a baby to buy all the pooh stuff for.
i know i was planning for father's day to get him a little winnie the pooh doll...but after Rango I knew it wasn't a good idea. So, i thought this was why the song made me cry--all the broken hopes and dreams that winnie the pooh represented (and the song described).
so, being sad, and pedaling through the tears, i decided to stop at the cemetary on the way home. i wanted to see how robbie's tree was doing. i broke down, and cried. i kneeled down, and just prayed to God to let me have my babies back. I miss them so much. When I calmed down, I asked Him to please hold them on their laps, to read them stories, and give them a big hug and kiss for me, and tell them how much I love them. I thanked Him for my girls, and how I want to be there for them right now, but i know A really misses her brothers too, and E wants us to have another baby.
I asked for a sign, something, anything, that my boys were okay, and they were watching us. My husband and girls get pennies--which is awesome, and i know they love it. My mind was just racing, and I was crying, and a great wind came up. And for the first time, I quieted my mind-just to listen to the wind, the birds and the other noises. I kneeled there, and the tears stopped. I wiped my eyes, and went to stand up. As I stood up, I saw underneath me were two dandelions--just two. One was smaller than the other. I wondered how I had kneeled there, looking down and had not noticed them. At first I didn't think anything of it. Then i turned to the left, and there were four dandelions--all different sizes. I turned to the right, and there were five dandelions--4 that ranged in size from small to large, and one really tall one that was just about to bloom. I circled around, and didn't see any other dandelions in that area---or ones in other areas that were less than 5. I went and got my phone, and took pictures of the 3 clusters. I took the two dandelions (that were directly under me), and they are in the boys memory box.
When I asked for a sign, I was doubtful. I was looking for pennies, or something shiny. I tried to tell myself if they do send something, its a miracle, because how would I not have seen it while standing there. But of course-flowers. my husband and girls know how i love my butterfly garden, and spending time there. i've been trying to protect the thistle because butterflies do need it. just because its a weed doesn't mean its not important. and maybe i'm just being sentimental, and really grasping at stuff to make it fit. But i don't think so in this case...i think that was God and my boys way of telling me they were with me, at that spot.
"Oh simple thing, where have you gone"...you are right there in front of me... i just need to be still and rest...

EDIT: After looking up dandelions, I learned that :
"Dandelions spread further, are more difficult to exterminate, and grow under more under adverse circumstances than most competitors."

"Most gardeners detest them, but the more you try to weed them up, the faster they grow."

"It ís recommended for stressed-out, internally sluggish, and sedentary people"

It also has properties for people that are run-down.... (found at http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Dandelion.html). interesting...never knew a weed could do so much!
check out this information too: http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Dandelion.html

Perspective and Expectations

These have been the themes of my week. When you are on an exercise machine for 50min almost every day, without a tv, you have a lot of time to think about stuff, and read. Normally I listen to my husband's ipod touch, but lately the songs, which are on random play, seem to relate to whatever i need to focus on, when i am trying to avoid thinking!

After Robbie died, I downloaded an album by Steven Curtis Chapman, written after his 5 year old daughter died after being hit by a car (accidentally) in her driveway. I always liked his music, and could relate to it. I listened to the songs alot after Robbie. But then, with Rango, I just couldn't listen. I didn't know that accidentally the SCC music was uploaded to my husband's ipod until the song came on while I was in the midst of minute 12 of the workout. The album, Beauty Will Rise, is full of wonderfully written lyrics, expressing both the grief and hope of losing a child. I am not at all comparing the loss of my babies to his 5 year old daughter...but there are similar emotions and thoughts.

"I don’t even want to breathe now
All I want to do is close my eyes
I don’t want to open them again
Till I’m standing on the other side

I don’t even want to be right now
I don’t want to think another thought
I don’t want to feel this pain I feel
Right now pain is all I’ve got
It feels like its all I’ve got
But I know that its not
Oh I know you’re all I’ve got"
===I Will Trust You...Beauty Will Rise, Steven Curtis Chapman

So, Monday as I'm listening and crying and exercising (b/c i am stubborn and I will sob as i push myself on the elliptical), i'm thinking, okay, okay, i'm not alone.
Then my oldest and I ride to the library, and on the new releases is a book written by SCC's wife titled "Choosing To See". And not only does it chronicle her walk of faith, but her emotions and challenging God with His plans, and her pain and sorrow. Something I can relate to all too well. So of course I take it home and have been reading it during my workouts this week.

The lessons I've learned this week didn't stop there. I was already starting to look at myself internally, and how was I going to go on. I was also being forced to reflect on my relationships with others--friends who i couldn't go on avoiding forever, occasions i had to go to or else i would regret them, and the overall notion that life has to go on. and how was i going to handle it.

I could go on, kicking and screaming, hiding and wishing for the "what ifs" and "should have beens". or i could make a new future, one where maybe i don't know what is going to happen, and i'll just have to know i'm not in control (as much as i want to be!).

So how to move on? When the path has been so dark, and hopeless? Let me first start by saying this: I truly believe after suffering such great loss, such tragedy, you must allow yourself to feel the grief, the sadness, and embrace it. The key is to not let it engulf you--and that's where your family and friends need to be patient and honest, and they can help you when you are at that lowest point. this is how i need to grieve. its not pretty. its not easy. its downright ugly, and dark, and not at all who i am. i had my family and friends pretty worried at some points--to the point where I know they wanted me on something for depression. But then, there will be a point where you have to face that darkness, and you have to make a decision. but you won't have to make the decision until you know you are strong enough. and while you are in that darkness, that grief, is when i found how strong i could be. for me it started with a song, then the book, then an acceptance of you are not the only one who has suffered loss.
An idea of perspective. And i have to give credit to a friend who helped put it "in perspective". While we have suffered a great loss, there might be someone who is pregnant that may not have a marriage they entered into willingly, or have the life they imagined. They might envy us (my synopsis, not theirs), and see how much we have to be thankful for, even with our losses. i understand, but i still want my babies. but its a start. and while your perspective is different from my perspective, it doesn't make the feelings associated with it any less valid.
then there is knowing what to expect: from yourself (me), your partner (my hubby), my family, my friends. And sometimes our expectations are so high, we don't realize it, until that person shows us how human they are. I'm not saying to not have expectations--we do need to recgonize the good in others. but to know that not everyone is going to treat us the way we would treat others (another jewel from this friend). we also need to learn what we expect from ourselves.
and there you have it--my wisdom for this week so far. it doesn't mean i don't miss my boys, or don't feel sad anymore. but it means i am moving forward--at least for now. i am going to push myself to expect more of myself and what i can do emotionally. i can look past myself and go to my girlfriend's son's first birthday. i can go see my pregnant friend, due in january, and share in her excitement. its not going to be easy, but i know it can be done with enough perspective, expectations (knowing i'll break down and cry probably at least once, and faith that i'll be supported and loved through each difficult step.
and now i'm expected to go sit with my hubby and watch a re-run of The Office!
Good night all!

The Results Are In

So I had a gut feeling to call my doctor today and see if any results happened to come in. And they did. So while waiting for the doctor to call me back, I began to talk to my husband, who had been strangely quiet all day, except to tell me that he no longer wanted to try again either. That way I don't need to stress about it anymore.
So I opened up a discussion, and very simply and plainly explained why I was so against trying again. It isn't that I don't want to be pregnant again and try for another baby. This morning, after 50 minutes on the elliptical, I figured out what my problem is with trying again. Its the uncertainty. Its knowing that he, even though he was as supportive as he could be, he couldn't do both his role and my role. Its knowing that if I need heparin shots every day, he can't help with that. I have to do that alone. I'll have to go to dr's visits alone. I'll have to take time away from work to get bloodwork done. And I don't want to be alone. I need him with me, even if its getting my arm pricked for the umpteenth time. I need him to support me at home, and make me rest, even if it means i'll get huffy with him. its knowing that he will take care of cleaning the house, and cooking, and taking care of the girls if the need be. I explained that while I understand he thinks its worth the sadness and worry if it means we get to have our baby, he needs to focus on the 9 months (or longer) it will take to get our baby. It means being ready at the 5month mark for bad news. It means living day by day, making sure our baby's heart is still beating. And making sure I do everything I'm supposed to, and not stress out.
He said nothing. And when I asked what was wrong, he told me he didn't think of any of that. He didn't know what I wanted him to say, and he just repeated that nevermind, he doesn't want to try again because it is causing me too much worry. I just don't know what else to say to him to help him understand that I do want to, just not right now, and not any time soon. And there's things we need to figure out before we try again. Its not going to be simple this time. But yes, it will be worth it if it all works.

So while we are in limbo, the doctor called us back. While the chromosomal study is normal, the autopsy revealed that the placenta was underdeveloped, and was starting to affect rango's growth. the placenta was also filled with blood clots. however, the interesting thing is that all of my bloodwork (which i have plenty results from!) shows that my levels are in the normal range for any blood clotting disorders. not even borderline--right smack in the middle! so there is a possibility that i have a clotting disorder that hasn't even been found yet--yay! i always do know how to make things more complicated!

so, now its onto a second opinion, because i just need to make sure that we definitely didn't miss anything. if someone could magically just tell me heparin and baby aspirin is the quick fix, and we'll definitely have a baby 9months from conception, great, let's go! but since my bloodwork results are a mystery, i am relying on other women to please share their stories, good and bad with me. i mean, i know we were all praying and hoping for answers. And this was the most obvious answer we could get. the dr is even contacting the pathology department to see if they have any of robbie's placenta so that we can compare it to rango's. even though he died from fetal hydrops, there is a possibility that there were complications with the placenta that we missed. that would even be better news--that the two were related.

but now that we have the results, its a few more weeks of talking, and getting double checked. and the hope is back for now. the desire to not stop, to keep trying for our take home baby is there. i am just to afraid to say it out loud. but i have met some women in the past 6 weeks who have inspired me in their courage. like i asked my husband tonight, what is the difference between someone who has had two 2nd trimester losses and someone who has had multiple miscarriages? i see it as this: physically, there is a huge different. 7-12 weeks carrying, opposed to 20w. being able to still hide it, and the belly being out there. emotionally, i don't think there is much of a difference. you still bond with your baby--no matter if you carried him/her for a few weeks or months. you are still a mom. and while i have to wait a little longer to see if my baby makes it, it doesn't minimize my desire to have another baby, or my love for that baby. and if someone can keep trying loss after loss, then trying a third time in a year just takes courage. and determination. and if anyone knows me personally, you know i don't give up that easily! i may get knocked down, and take a while to stand up, but eventually, i will bounce back. more determined that ever! so thank you to all you ladies with the courage to keep trying...you are my inspiration!

Bad Day

Yup, had a bad day. I figured it was coming after such a positive week. Doesn't mean I was happy--it just meant I wasn't sad as much. It just feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, and I can't shake it. Being happy has taken on a whole new meaning for me.
For example, if you read my posts from the spring, you know that I was non-renewed at a district that i really liked working in, due to problems between me and the supervisor there (and i think it had to do with pregnancy stuff too--pretty sure of that!). but everyone just figured it was meant to be because now i would be able to be home with Rango and not worry about going back to work. I would find a job after I had the baby. But that wasn't the plan--obviously. So the Friday after Rango died my husband and daughters drove with me to my previous district to hand deliver my resume packet. I didn't want to do anything, but knew I had to apply for something, because come October if I was still home, I'd be a blubbering mess.
So fast forward, and I interviewed and got the position. Being its only for 1 year, for a teacher taking another year of maternity leave. It is a teacher I knew well, and am happy she is able to stay home with her little one. My husband, friends and family are all so excited for me. They are happy for me. And I am "huh" about it. Yes, I am looking forward to going back to my first school I taught at, where I was understood. I can work with all my old friends again. But I can't say I'm happy. I'm grateful to have a job, and know that this is probably my last chance to show I am a good, caring teacher. But happy, no. Happy would be looking forward to staying home with Rango in the fall, and being a stay at home mom. 1 year ago, happy was being content at work, and coming home to my family, and having a network of friends surrounding us. Now, happy is just unattainable. Unless someone invents a time machine, and I can go back, and somehow change what happened.
Now, I am grateful for my daughters. I have learned to cherish every moment with them, and to play with them, read them stories, and stop being lazy around them. I seem happy around them because I have something that I have to survive for. But when they go to their father's, I dread the long days and nights that are coming. I dread my husband asking me what are we going to do today. Because this is the rest of my life. Boring nights, with a husband that is too tired to get off the couch, a bank account that doesn't have enough in it to fund an excursion every long weekend, and a dog that can't always travel with us. And this is the rest of our life. And its depressing, and while I would love to find a hobby for us, biking is it. But my husband is limited to how far this interest is. I grew up with a dad who forced us to ride bikes everywhere. It was not unheard of to ride our bikes on vacation, or go for hikes. And as a kid I hated it, every moment. But now, I would enjoy just throwing the bikes in the car, and finding a new trail. But his idea of biking as a hobby is going for a 45minute bike ride every other day around the neighborhood. I need more than just this. But he asked me tonight what would make me happy--I told him how I don't think I'll be "happy" again. Happy is gone. And his reply was that I was being difficult and I need to get over it already. his solution? Buy a Maserati...really?!?! A car that will sit in the garage (and that we don't have the funds to even buy), and he won't drive it anywhere will solve our hobby problems.
Yes, this is a vent/ rant today. I am in a sour mood, and have 4 long days ahead of me of boredom and sitting watching my husband play games on the computer or watch re-runs of it's always sunny. fun times.
But the question is, what am I going to do to help myself, since he won't do anything. Maybe tomorrow I'll get that answer.

My hubby and I went out last year and bought ourselves bikes, in an effort to better ourselves, and find a way to bond without being in front of the tv. And it was working, until I found myself in the midst of morning sickness with Robbie and unable to focus on pedaling the bike, or dry-heaving after a mild bike ride.
So the Sunday before the d & e we pulled out the bikes and went for a nice long ride. And it was peaceful. We can only go on long rides when the girls are with their dad. But a few weeks ago we started riding as a family...not relaxing, but maybe we'll get there!
So last night my hubby suggested we go for a bike ride. I think it was in response to my bad anxiety that had been hitting hard around 8-9 at night, trying to get me tuckered out. I am already exercising 50-60min a day, so its not like i needed more exercise. but i agreed, and off we went. I suggested riding to a definite location, in hopes of making the ride last more than 30 minutes, and off to pittsgrove we went. we rode 7 miles in 40 minutes--not bad, I think. I didn't even break a sweat! I was ready to ride back, but he wasn't, so we parked at his parents house and hitched a ride home.
This morning, after exercising I realized I had to go to the post office. It's a 2 minute drive. But we had to cancel our plans to go to the beach due to other pain in the butt stuff to do on the phone, so he suggested a bike ride.
And off we went. We went to the post office, and then decided since the cemetery where Robbie is was within a decent distance, we would go visit. The tree is flourishing. But it turned out to be much more insightful.
We never noticed the other grave markers. And we rode around just looking and reading. And I was amazed at the number of tombstone markers (the family plot ones with all the names on it, and individual markers on the ground) that stated a name, and just one year (like 1867-1867). And one family we saw had 5 children--3 died in the same year. 1 a few years after, and then, as far as we can tell, a baby was born after all of that, but died in the same year. But maybe it was a stillbirth. We pondered this for a while...that residents over 100 years ago suffered the same way we are right now. And their little babies were buried and remembered with them, no matter the age. And it made me a little happier knowing that Robbie and Rango won't be forgotten either.
But I couldn't help on the ride home to talk to Robbie and Rango, and see if they could meet these children. And I couldn't help but imagine what it was like 100 years ago if you had a stillbirth, let alone two. Sadly, I don't think society has changed much on how to react if your baby dies. Either people embrace you and allow you to take the time to grieve, or they wonder why after a certain time you aren't back to normal. But instead of "work", these families are farmers. They still had to get up, milk the cows, make meals from scratch, handwash the laundry. And I find it hard to just get up and get on the elliptical and figure out a shopping list for the week! To imagine how these women survived, how the families survived. I felt humble just thinking about it. Okay, so maybe God isn't mad at me. Maybe this isn't my fault. If it happened to these women (and so many in the one cemetery!!), and I have met so many women who struggle with bringing home their take home baby, then maybe its not personal. No one back then could tell these women why their babies died with certainty. At least we have that hope and technology to try our best to take home our babies. Maybe our losses are to help someone years down the road so they don't have to share in this pain and hurt. But I am fortunate enough to know that without my boys, and losing them, I wouldn't have met some amazing people along the way.
So today, maybe I can just practice being in the moment and enjoying what I have because life is so uncertain. Easier said than done! But it beats crying and having an anxiety attack because life didn't turn out the way I wanted. Just like the bike ride...I just wanted to go out for a little, but instead I had a lot to mull over!

Just missing my boys

I know I want to try to be more positive, but at this stage I am just not there yet. After a fertility specialist appointment (also reproductive endocrinologist), where that doctor is just a perplexed as all the doctors that we are seeing to figure out what happened, I am just resigned to say I am done. While I am trying not to lose all hope until we get the test results/ autopsy results next week, it is very difficult.
There are two leads of thought on what could be happening. But, all the doctors have said while this is highly unlikely, and it is unlikely either of these could be the reason why our sons died at 21w, one is more likely than the other, but they are both unlikely (did you follow the paradox? my mind is twisting from it too!).
the first is still being investigated, and that is blood clots. The second is that there could be a mutated x-chromosome that is inherited in my family, hence why there haven't been any boys (save 1) on my grandmother's side in 4 generations. There is a 50/50 chance that a baby could get the mutated x-chromosome. So apparently for both Robbie and Rango, they could have each gotten the mutated one, not the normal one. But if the baby is a girl, there is another x chromosome to make up for the mutated one. Hence why I have two daughters. The prognosis for this, so far, is a bit more drastic than we had anticipated.
But, there is still scenario 3: worse case scenario: i go on baby aspirin and /or heparin and try again. and hope it works. yeah, unfortunately, i'm not ready just to try again on the "let's see what happens". I'm a scientist, and I understand their mindset. but emotionally i just can't throw caution to the wind. or can i? we all exercise self-preservation...and that's all this is. I'm just glad that I don't need to make a definite decision for a while.
But, in the end, it all boils down to simply I miss my boys. I am grateful for my daughters, and that opportunity to raise them. I am grateful for my husband. And I am grateful that I could spend time with my sons no matter how short and limited the time was.
I just miss Robbie and Rango. That's it.

Looking from the outside in...

Before I start writing, I just need to clarify--this is about my husband's family, not mine. My family (I guess because we are so small, even though we do live distances away) has been so supportive and open to talking about Robbie and Rango. They don't pretend it didn't happen, and I know that when I have a bad day, I can contact anyone in my family and have the support I need. {EDIT: To avoid any hurt feelings, this is not intended to slam or insult my extended in law family. This is again, a journal of my raw emotions, intended to let other women who are experiencing the same grief that if they have the same thoughts or hurt feelings, they are not alone. My point in this post, after re-reading it several times, is that 1) all families handle grief differently. I am just struggling to understand being a part of a family that expects us to be happy for births when the deaths of our sons are not acknowledged and 2) denial of bad things happening in a family can lead to some very hurt feelings. like my husband said, after i wrote this post, my expectations were just too high from family, in general. i think i just want his family, who does see our posts on fb, to acknowledge that our sons existed and are a part of our family. but that may never happen, and i do have to accept that, without bitterness or anger. and i do, but just friday was a rough day and like i said, this is raw emotion. i do know that everyone handles grief and loss differently. it's why some people embrace us when they see us, and other people duck into an aisle in iga to avoid coming in contact with us. it's okay. we have a community around us that supports us...a church that is praying for us and is waiting to see us again, friends and neighbors who do listen and give advice, and are willing to sit with us and just talk, or take us out, but don't push us either if we aren't ready, and family who is concerned for us. And step by step we are walking this path of healing and acceptance.}
My husband's family is very large. In fact, there were a total of 4 of us due within a couple of months of each other--2 in august, 2 in october. One is the nasty cousin who was so rude and disrespectful after Robbie and wanted her stroller back right away. Yup--she is delivering in the next few weeks, and no, its not fair.
But I feel like I am on the outside looking in at a family that only a year ago my husband and I were so involved in. No one except his parents have even acknowledged our losses (well, b/c they were the grandparents), and one cousin. None of them (and they are all facebook friends) have looked at the pictures or said to us how sorry they are. Instead, they are posting about weddings and making plans. It is like we are invisible, or our luck is so bad they are purposely avoiding us (including my sister in law). My in laws don't talk to us about any of the cousins...I know its so I don't get upset. But if they would only realize if they recognized our loss, and spoke to us about Robbie and Rango, perhaps there wouldn't be a gap. We aren't going to reach out to them for anything...not when they didn't acknowledge what happened in the first place. They were all there when we got married, and when we were talking about trying to have a baby. But now, they are all gone. You wouldn't know that we are part of a young family. And I am really hurt. I'm supposed to be happy for their pregnancies (sorry, i'm not there yet, its not fair..especially for that cousin that is on her fourth baby and didn't want it, and we so desperately want our babies!), or the barefoot and pregnant wedding that happened while we were away.
I can't say any of this to my husband-it's not his fault, and i feel so bad b/c at least I have my family. He doesn't have anyone checking on him. I have my cousins, my parents, my aunt and uncle, my sister, my grandmother. His family is just avoiding us. For example, they are all going to the beach tomorrow for a week. And making plans. And where are we? Home, alone, with no family. I get that the rest of the family has so much to look forward too--they have babies and weddings. And what do we have? We are the black cloud on the family. They only want to hang around with other members that are happy and have a good life. I guess screw us.
I married into this family thinking how great it would be. They were close not just in age and in relationships, but also in proximity. Instead, our neighbors and friends know more and offer more support than his family. What a shame. And it just pains me even more.

I'm back....

I was away in St. Pete's Beach, Fl for the last week. I thought I would be able to blog from there, but after my husband and I would finish training, I was exhausted! It was a business trip, combined with what was supposed to be a baby-moon. We had scheduled to go down a day early, and stay a day after. Instead of a babymoon, it turned out to be quite a reflective trip for both of us.
I learned that the reason I don't like pregnant women (or women with approximately 3 month old babies) is because they serve as a reminder of everything I have lost this year. As long as I had somewhere I had to be (the training), or dinner dates, I was fine mentally. I was also okay because NO ONE KNEW anything about what I had gone through. Or what Mario and I had gone through. We were just a couple of science teachers that happened to be married to each other. And it was nice to be just that, until questions of if we had any children came up. But instead of the reactions we expected, we instead found ourselves with other people (men and women) who shared their stories of loss with us. One man, who befriended us, told us on the last day of training that he and his wife had lost 13 babies, all at 14w. I was stunned. Here I am, not even ready to think about trying again (my reaction so far is Hell No!). And his wife went through it 13 times!!! And they never found an answer.
I dreaded coming home. It wasn't a great mini-vacation. In fact, when we weren't busy training, or socializing, it was downright mentally and emotionally exhausting! I guess it was good that we used our time alone to talk openly, and reflect on the past year.
See, tomorrow will mark the day that Robbie was conceived. Yes, I am sure that is too much information for most of my readers. But in hindsight, July 4 is the day that forever changed our lives, our marriage, our family, and our perspective. On one hand I would love to wake up tomorrow and have it be like the movie "Groundhog Day", and we wake up, and its last July 4th all over again. But on the other hand, am I really willing to give up a year that has so drastically changed everything about my life? I have to believe, for my own sanity, that there is some greater purpose, some reason, that we are suffering so much. I have to believe that there is a reason I was able to get pregnant so easily with both of my boys. And I don't think I would give up the year that gave me my boys, even though they aren't with us physically.
A month ago, I was entering into the 21w of my pregnancy with Rango, and was scared. But I tried to talk myself out of it, and even tried to show my family and friends I was more confident by buying baby clothes. A month ago I was excited at the fact that while I would be unemployed, I would be able to stay home with my baby boy, and be a stay at home mom, at least for a little bit.
Now, those baby clothes sit in a drawer--the only baby items I kept in the house. Now, I have a job interview next Tuesday, am applying for another job this week, and am wondering if this part time job might be a possible new career path, even if it does involve traveling frequently. I have stopped trying to plan the next month, because I have remembered and learned "The best made plans of mice and men often go astray".
For tonight at least, I am unsure of where I am headed. But I know I am open to change. I would welcome it. I dreaded coming home, and as I shared this with my neighbor friend, she completely understood the desire to just start over and start fresh. I am willing to go anywhere, with my girls, and just be me. Whether this is the best plan, I don't know.
My husband told me while we were in Florida that he is ready to try again. We haven't even had our post-op visit yet (that's Wednesday), and no results have even come in. I told him I am not ready, and I don't know if I will ever be ready again. I am ready to get my tubes tied. I just can't handle the uncertainty and waiting to see if this baby will be our take home baby. I mean, if the doctors come back and tell us exactly what happened, and how to fix it, I might feel a little better, but still...there's no 100% guarantee. And I know one more loss will put me over the edge, and I might not come back. I am barely here as it is. I know everything thinks I am doing well. They see me get up in the morning, exercise and diet, take care of the house, my girls, my family. But no one sees the despair, the fight inside to keep going, and not give up. How almost minute by minute I have to remind myself to keep going.
For the first time in my life I am ready to give up. The only thing keeping me going is the fact that my two little girls need me. And that is the only reason I appear to do well.
Well, to anyone who is still reading my long ramble (trying to fit in a week's worth of thoughts into one blog), thank you! Now it is time to go and get ready for bed, and the new episode of True Blood at 11. My husband has his routine, and in a way it is reassuring. Good night!

Thank you

Today in the mail I received a lovely necklace, containing three pieces, 2 of which had footprints and Robbie and Rango's name on it with little blue pieces that lay on top, the 3 was larger and says "Always in my heart". I don't know where it came from (it had a return address of Mn on it, but postmarked from Fl!)... but I would like whoever sent it to know, from the bottom of my heart, how thoughtful and wonderful of a gift it is. I put it on right away, and I am so touched someone thought of my boys enough to give me such a wonderful way to remember them. Our batteries are dead in the camera, or I would post it. Words cannot express how much this little token means so much! So thank you so much kind person...and may God bless you for thinking of us in such a sad time. I will cherish it always! I hope someday I can repay your kindness.
Thank you!!

No Tears--Just Anger

I am pissed off at the world today. I haven't cried at all so far today. But the anger is right there--at everyone who says have a great day, or asks "how are you doing today". it's not fair, and i know deep inside no matter how much i fight or throw a tantrum, my babies are not coming back. my bump will not "magically" appear tomorrow morning, like God saying, ok, you've had enough, here's Rango back. the results of what happened to Rango will not be rushed, and we won't know what happened for a few more weeks. and that's if we even get answers.
we leave on saturday for a business training trip to florida. it was supposed to be our babymoon-we were going down the day before, and leaving two days after. i had motherhood coupons that i was going to use to get a few bathing suits and sundresses, to show off my cute little baby bump. but instead i gave the coupons to another pregnant woman i worked with who was due 5 days after Rango. and i'm in walmart, buying shorts that fit in case my crash diet and exercising doesn't work by saturday and i can fit into my summer stuff from last year. its not fair, and i am so pissed off. i should be enjoying my first day of summer break. instead i am finding ways to deny what is really happening.
i went downstairs to organize all of my teaching files (i was non-renewed about a month ago, and fortunately i was packed up before we learned about rango, so everything was home), and worked hard for an hour at going through files, sorting and organizing. my husband came downstairs to help with what we call our "homemade chemistry kits"--our own activities that he and i have put together. then he asked me if we could stop, because i'll have all next year to organize. i stopped and immediately teared up. i was thinking (and i don't know why) that i wanted to get it done now, because i wouldn't have time in the fall, with Rango. and in that one comment reality came crashing in. and now i'm on here.
i am not accepting what happened--i know Rango isn't here. i know robbie isn't here. for the first time in my life i can tell i am headed toward this slippery slope of depression, and i can't shake it. even my daughters coming back tomorrow isn't helping.
yesterday i made my husband pack up all of the baby stuff we had purchased when we had hope of bringing home a live baby, and brought it to my aunt's house. i couldn't stand having a room be in transition for a nursery that may never happen. i'm not sure what i'm going to do with it, but i need to make it useful. i can't handle this--i can't get through this. this is just too hard. my heart and faith are completely shattered, and honestly i have nothing to look forward too. i have no job, my daughters go to school in the fall, and i will be left alone with nothing but my empty house and my empty womb. and no hope, no faith. everyone keeps telling me things are going to get better--i just see things getting worse and worse. i can't see how i will survive this. i can't do anything and i'm a failure.
i miss my boys...i miss being pregnant...i miss having hope and being happy.

Father's Day

Dear Robbie and Rango,
I need to tell you how much your father misses you. We both think Father's day and Mother's day are silly holidays, but it doesn't take the sting away that your dad should be holding one of you, or expecting to hold the Rango in a few months. But yesterday he told me that he found 2 pennies lying on the ground next to each other. After you died Robbie, your dad told me how he remembers someone telling him that sometimes our angels send pennies from heaven, as a sign. The fact that he found 2 pennies together means so much to him--that his boys are looking out for him.
He and I miss you both so much, and wish you were with us still. Your sisters talk about both of you constantly, and tell us what they think you are doing. I asked them tonight to tell me if they ever get to meet you in one of their dreams. You both know how much you were loved and wanted, and how we were so ready to bring you home to us!
But thank you for remembering your dad--i know he hurting so much.
I love you both,
Mommy

Physically it's over, emotionally it continues

I am exhausted, both physically and mentally, but wanted to let everyone know that today went much smoother than last time.
Yesterday the doctor put in 17 luminaria, and i was contracting on and off all day, with back labor. my aunt was sure my membranes would rupture. but they didn't, and we made it to the hospital at our scheduled time at 10am. i was wheeled in around 11:45, and spent some time awake in the OR--what a chaotic messy place lol!
But I was woken up by my doctor shaking me, telling me they were able to get the baby out completely intact. My eyes shot wide open (quickest time for me ever waking up out of surgery), and i started asking if the placenta had blood clots or if the cord had problems--the answers were no, everything was perfect and healthy. so the questions remain, and the probing begins to find what happened. Even the baby was completely formed and healthy looking. he just looked like a 21w old (well, almost 22w old) baby asleep. they asked me if i still wanted to see him.
and after a nurse (who has helped me in the doctor's office since i was 7 weeks pregnant) checked to see, i was assured i needed to see him.
and we did--i got to hold him, wrapped up in his blanket, and look at his little face. such tiny little features. this same nurse, Susan, called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, and they were there in 15minutes to take portraits, which I will post when we receive them.
My husband was able to hold his little foot, my mom helped with posing and therefore got to see more of the baby than the rest of us. Even my mother in law, who didn't think she would emotionally be able to handle it, was able to see her grandson.
And what I can say is this: Rango was meant to be a Rango--he had a Rango face--the name suited him. He looked identical to his father and shared many features--his nose, cheeks, chin, eyes and ear, and even his long feet. My mom said he had my fingers--figures, my kids at least always get my fingers! He also had very light blonde hair. you could just see it coming in. And he was pink--i wasn't expecting to see such a healthy baby to be honest. but there he was. my mom also said he was very long--which explains how i would feel punches and kicks from both sides of my abdomen.
After 2 hours, I knew I needed to get checked out physically to make sure the bleeding was under control, and as much as i hated to let him go, I felt so fortunate that I was able to see him and hold my little boy. i will never forget being able to meet him and kiss him. and i whispered to him "if love could have saved you, we would have". i've heard this phrase on the message boards so much, but today it made complete sense to me. 7 days ago, rango was causing havoc in my uterus--today i saw the little boy who had such a personality for 21w and 5 days.
i am looking forward to seeing the pictures and sharing our sweet boy with everyone. it is a privilege to know that God let me be his mother. hopefully he and his brother aren't destroying our heavenly mansions while we are here. his great grandparents better be keeping an eye on them! (side note: we saw invention of lying this week, so the idea of Robbie and Rango in a mansion without us is bittersweet, but i can live with that image).

2 down, 1 to go

I apologize in advance if the blog entry today seems disjointed--i am on percocet and just a little bit loopy. but at least i am awake right now, and the pain isn't that bad as long as i'm sitting and have a heating pad on. And i want to make sure i document everything this time.
I would have blogged yesterday, but our internet was down, and then we lost power until 10pm,so i guess i was forced to just sit and be.

But yesterday we met with the doctor at 1pm, and i got to ask all my questions--genetic testing, chromosomal testing, fetal autopsy, pain medication questions, and anything else you can imagine. Instead of vicodin, he prescribed percocet. And apparently he was able to get more luminaria in this time than the first day last time. Mario was able to get answers as far as his concerns about my surgery and bleeding.

Wednesday night I cried for two hours because I had I guess what you would call was a premonition. It wasn't a dream, but I wasn't really awake either. I was delivering Rango, and they were trying to get him out and save me because I was bleeding uncontrollably. I was so scared and cried and cried Wednesday night. Thursday morning Rango was alive. So now Mario is scared that he'll lose me Wednesday during the d & e. But the doctor assured him we are going to do certain things differently this time to ensure the bleeding doesn't get bad.

So this morning we were back at the doctor's office--i had taken 1 percocet, and mario had one to give me after the procedure. unfortunately, the doctor was running late, and we sat in the waiting room with several happy pregnant women. the good news is that percocet makes me feel so numb that i don't feel anything--including the emotions of losing another son. and seeing them didn't make me upset. but we had the procedure done, and the doctor says we are doing very well this time. we have one more procedure, and hopefully i'll be dialated enough by wednesday to deliver Rango so we can hold him. I need to hold him, to see him. so i am trying to be brave and relax during the procedures so i have that option.

before i sign off because of the extreme nausea, i have to add one thing. i do appreciate everyone's support, and at some point maybe i will believe what you are all telling me. but i am not at that stage yet. i am angry, sad, in despair and disbelief. i am confused, and questioning everything. and i am writing this blog not just for my own needs, but to help those women that are suffering from any type of pregnancy loss. eventually what you are all trying to tell me (and i know everyone is trying to help, i really do!) will sink in. just not right now. i am sorry if it upsets anyone with how honest i am being right now, but denying my own emotions is not going to help me heal. it doesn't mean stop, it just means not to expect much right now.

And the process begins

My husband and I don't know what is worse--this time or last. They are are different. We know what to do this time. We have to call the doctor at 10 to schedule the time to come into to place the luminaria in for day one. Then tomorrow and Tuesday are days two and three. Wednesday will be the d&e. Thursday and Friday recovery. We are trying to find a movie series to watch Monday and Tuesday when I will be cramping so badly the vicodin won't even help with the pain. I have contacted Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep to be available to take pictures in the slim chance the doctor can delivery the baby completely. They are calling today to discuss the details, but they are available for Wednesday. I am calling funeral homes to see about the cremation services. At least the routine of knowing what is expected is somewhat familiar and soothing.

Even our grieving has a pattern. I break down first, then my husband stays strong and silent. Then I become angry and withdraw completely. I am in that phase now. I am trying to numb myself so that maybe I won't feel the pain and hurt as intensely as last time. I am shutting myself down, and pushing everyone away because I just can't deal with this anymore. I know everyone is so hurt for us, and shocked, and wants to help but doesn't know how. But I don't need this. I know this is my fault, and if it wasn't for me no one would be hurting for us. Our families wouldn't be in such pain. I do think my families are better off without me. And if I pack up and start over, I can forget everything and have a new life. And everyone else will forget me in time, and move on.

But my husband doesn't respond well to me shutting down and shutting everyone out. So then when I become a fortress, he breaks down. And that was our last 24 hrs. Ending is us finally going to be at 11 in the morning and waking up around 3 in the afternoon. We watched a movie, and cleaned the house. He ordered dinner, and we went out to get my sleeping pills (which i know i'll need for the next several days), and the food he ordered. After dinner I decided it was time to pack up the maternity clothes and find all of my summer stuff from last year, and see what might fit next week. My neighbor had lent me a bunch of clothes, that I had finally put away last Friday. In 7 days they were all packed up. But, my closet couldn't be more organized. I purposely waited to put my regular clothes away because I didn't want to do this. But, we got too comfortable with the pregnancy. We felt safe. And we couldn't have been more wrong. I even bought 3 custom science/chemistry onesies (one with Rango's name with a molecular structure) for Mario for father's day. They arrived yesterday morning. I emailed cafepress to get the form to return them. They emailed us back right away, telling us they refunded us the fees, and please not to worry about returning the items, and they were so sorry for our loss.
So now, not only do we have a stroller system, a high chair, a pack and play, a changing table, a dresser, and 5 outfits and 2 packs of onesies and a pack of infant diapers, and a breast pump kit, we don't have a baby to use it in October. Plus 4 complete seasons of maternity clothes.
Plus, let's not forget my biggest guilt of all--Rango was due on my husband's birthday-10/15. And it is his 30th birthday. For his birthday I was going to give him a son. Now I have to worry if he begins to resent me. It's too much to hope that we will be given a clean bill of health to try again, and that's even if we wanted too. So there's no hope left. So thinking maybe we can try again. Maybe we'll be pregnant again by his birthday. But any chance of hope. of thinking its going to be that easy is out the window. We are left with two 21w babies who died. Robbie from a heart or kidney malformation. Rango, we still don't know. But we know they were both boys. That died at the same point in the pregnancy.
I don't understand how God would let me get pregnant again, only to carry the baby for 5 months, feel him kick and move. I just don't understand. If we weren't meant to have a baby, why let me get pregnant at all? I think it would be a bigger sign if I just couldn't get pregnant. We wouldn't question it then. But to let me get pregnant so easily, and quickly, and then lose my sons at 5 months--i don't understand. why do i have to suffer like this? why put my family through this? and why did my daughters have to be there again on Thursday when Rango was "sleeping" and so still? Surely they could have been spared that. I do think my family would be better off with out me. But right now I have to focus on the week ahead. I need to make it through Wednesday--for the sake of my family. To be fair, I just don't care anymore. Hurt me, cause me pain, make me uncomfortable. But spare my family this pain. This is all my fault, I must have done something. Why else does everyone around me get to have babies (there are 4 alone in our family), and I am the one who loses them again? It must be me.