"Learning to Live with It"

Life has to go on, right?  I'd be lying if I said I didn't have brief moments where I thought what's the point of living.  My heart's broken and the pain inside is so intense, it was hard to get out of bed somedays.  Some people handle tragedy differently.  I would have absolutely never in my life go to the extreme of suicide just to be with my babies, but I have to admit, I wasn't scared of death anymore.  I knew that if I died tomorrow, I would have my children waiting up in heaven for me and I would get my chance to hug and kiss them and watch them grow (if you continue to age in heaven).  But as much as I wanted us to reunite, I knew that I still had way too much to live for.

Kevin...he was and still is my rock.  He loves me no matter what.  I can cry every single day of my life because I miss our boys, and he will still support me.  I couldn't leave him.  We still had our whole lives together.  We still had a family to grow.  I knew that we were meant to be parents.  We were meant to have children running around our house.  We will forever be parents.  Nothing will change that.  But I want the chance to actually PARENT a child...or 3.  

I knew I needed to move on with my life and get back to a normal routine.  Colin and Nathan would have wanted me to really live and look forward to things again.  Those two little boys will always and forever be on my mind and although some day's were going to be harder than others, I knew there would be a day when the tears would stop and when I would think about them, I would think of pure joy and love instead of feeling sad.

Talking about my boys helped the healing process a lot.  The more I talked about them, the easier it got.  Therapy was helping a lot.  Kelli was such a good listener and would help me work through my feelings.  I also attended a Pregnancy and Infant Loss support group that met once a month.  The first time I went, we went around the room, introduced ourselves and then told everyone what happened.  That first night, my story was very long.  I told almost every detail and started to cry at certain points.  I was the only one there who had to say goodbye to my child, twice.  Some had miscarriages and some had stillborns.  I think there was only one other couple there that had a baby boy around the same gestational age as Colin and Nathan and he lived 9 hours.  Who is to say that someones pain is greater than someone else's?  You can't.  It's not greater or lesser...it is just different.

I went to that group therapy a handful of times.  But depending on how many new people were there, it became just a 'tell your story' meeting and didn't really get into 'helping' each other heal.  It's a great group and I am glad I did it, but my one-on-one therapy was helping more, so I decided to just stick with that.

In my eyes, I thought I was handling everything very well.  I tended to be stronger when I was around other people but it was a whole other story when I was home alone.  The hysterical cries were still quite often.  I would be the only one in the house and just yell to Colin and Nathan, "Why did you leave me? I miss you so much!  I can't live like this!"  I would talk to them constantly.  I would sit on my bed and literally talk out loud to them for 20 minutes or so.  I needed to believe that even though I couldn't see them, that they were right there with me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Learning to live with it at work had its challenges.  I took down my wedding pictures that I had taped to the wall because if people saw them, their next question was "Do you have kids?" and I wanted to avoid that question as much as possible.  If someone did ask that question, I gave them as much information as they asked for.  "Do you have kids?" For that...I would answer, "Yes" and be done with it.  If the questions continued then I would tell them.
Stranger: "How many?"
Me: "2"
Stranger: "How old are they?"
then I would have to say, "I had twin boys but they only lived a matter of days."
Usually that was the last question.  Every now and then I would get some really nosey person that wanted to know what happened and I would give them the very VERY brief version.  But for the most part it ended with "I am sorry."
I promised myself that I would NEVER say, "It's OK" when someone would tell me that they are sorry.  It is definitely NOT OK that they are dead.  To me, saying that it is OK meant that I was perfectly fine with it.  What happened sucked.  So I would always say, "Thank you" in response.
I know that if I just answered 'NO' to the "Do you have kids?" question then things would be easier, but how could I ignore the fact that they were born and lived?  I just was not ready to discount the fact that I had them.

There were a handful of times when I started to break down at work and had to go to the break room and just cry.  It wasn't easy sometimes but everyone at work was so supportive and let me cry when I needed to.

Now remember all those baby girls that were born in December and January that I went to see?  Well now, Emily's little boy was born in April.  I really was so happy for her, I was, but this birth hit me hard.  This was the first boy that had been born (out of people I knew) since Colin and Nathan were born.  I wanted so bad to be supportive and go visit her like I did my other co-workers, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.  I hadn't held a newborn baby boy since mine.  The day he was born, she sent out a mass text to everyone from work, pictures included.  I couldn't bring myself to look at them.  I remember I was in the Wal-Mart parking lot when I got the text and I started to tear up.  I wasn't upset, by any means, that he was born a healthy child.  I was extremely jealous because if the boys did go full term (or full term for twins)  they would only be a couple weeks apart.  So this was hard on me.

I remember the first time Emily brought in her baby to work.  I was on my way back up to the front office while she was passing the front office on her way to the gym.  We just missed each other and immediately my heart started to race.  I looked at my co-worker Kim and she asked me if I was Ok.  I said that I was, very unconvincing I might add.  I really started to panic, thinking of what I would do if she brought him up here to see us.  I wasn't ready for this.  It was only 45 min before I was supposed to be done working so I asked Kim if she would mind if I left.  She didn't mind at all.  I gathered up my things so quickly and snuck out the back.  In the car, I cried the whole 30 min drive home.  I am supposed to have that moment as well.  I should be bringing my babies in to see everyone too.

I feel like I need to explain why I left.  Yes I was jealous of her baby boy, but this is also her time to shine.  This is not about me.  And I knew that if I held that baby boy in my arms, I would start to cry and people would feel bad for me.  This was all about Emily and her little boy and I didn't think it was fair to take even a little attention away from the wonderful moment of showing off her baby.

A few months prior, we had a baby shower for her and I thought that I would be Ok with going to that.  Instead of going into the little boy section and picking out some cute clothes, I got all things she would need to care for him. Laundry detergent, bath items, nasal aspirator, etc.  Very gender neutral.  But at the end of the shower when everyone was leaving, I got in my car and my friend Nikki came out to check on me.  I began to cry.  I held back tears during the shower and kind of ignored the whole opening gifts portion because seeing little boy things was difficult.  She gave me a hug and we talked for a little bit and then I went home.  I feel so bad feeling this way.  I wish I could have been more supportive and excited than I was for her.  It was just bad timing unfortunately.

I am not an expert on grief and how to handle it.  I am just doing the best that I can to get through this time in my life.  Everyday I am learning one more way to just live with it.