Harder Than I thought ...

The weeks leading up to Mothers Day (with the media/advertising blitz that goes with it) was a little easier this year...of course keeping super busy with my school's art show helped keep me distracted. I was actually quite surprised how little the ads affected me...but was grateful the sting didn't have the same power.

But then I woke up this morning and the weight of what is missing fell on me like a ton of bricks. Actually saying what feels wrong...it is who is missing that is more accurate. I want my William and Ethan here...I want the sloppy kisses that one year old babies specialize in. I want to hug them and love on them and all the things I can't do because they did not live long enough for any of this to happen.

I had hoped that being pregnant this Mother's Day would make me feel more hopeful or maybe it would be less difficult. I couldn't have been more wrong...the tears and ache are still there.

While I am grateful for the potential baby waiting to arrive and ever hopeful that next year will be different I still miss and long for my first two sons. They will always be missed and forever loved.

I love you William and Ethan! You were the first ones to make me a mother and I think of you all the time.

A number is just a number, except when it's not.

Their are lots of dates and numbers that take on special significance or act as triggers when you are a Baby Loss Mamma...due dates, birth and death dates and other milestones. Last year my due date (3/27) was a difficult day emotionally. This year It passed with out much notice (I realized two days later) and that date doesn't hold the emotional weight it did last year. I am glad for that because really, so few babies are born on their due date and mine came sooo much earlier.

William and Ethan were born at 23w6d...the 24th week. The week of supposed viability. That was a pretty big milestone and I am so anxious about getting past that milestone in this pregnancy. Only four weeks until I will be more pregnant than I have ever been.

The most significant date is obviously my boys' birthday, the 4th of December (also Williams's death) paired with the 5th which was the day we lost Ethan. The 4th of each month passes with a heavy heart because it is another month with out my boys.

As if I needed further proof of the universe's perverse sense of humor. I found out how twisted it really is when I was updating the two month "at-a-glance" calendar in our home office. I find not looking too far ahead helpful in curbing my anxiety about this pregnancy and I note each week change for the hubby. As I was filling in May I realized, with great panic, that I will hit 23w6d on the 4th of May.

I had to sit down and catch my breath after that realization. It is not as though each of those dates/milestones carry a heavy burden, but to see them paired together again freaks me out. As much as I tell myself they are just numbers I can't shake the impact of knowing what happened last time.

Yes it is a different pregnancy and a completely different month but how do I shake this fear? How do I remove the power from those numbers? How is it possible to hit those numbers again?

I guess I just have to wait, get through it the best I can...freak outs and all. Here's hoping that this time around the universe will let me stay pregnant and bring home a living baby that is carried to term. Women do it all the time...can it be my turn?

Every day...

At least once a day (and more often than once is the norm to be honest) I think of you, my sweet William and Ethan. Sometimes it is a passing thought, sometimes it is recalling those precious days of being pregnant with you and every now and then the grief of loosing you sweeps over me like a tidal wave.

It is not nearly as hard as it has been to remember you with a smile rather than tears. For that I am grateful...while the heartbreak is still there, I would much rather think of my boys with love and a smile. They deserve that. They didn't deserve a life too short and that is the what earns the tears.

Here and Now

“Do not look back. And do not dream about the future, either. It will neither give you back the past, nor satisfy your other daydreams. Your duty, your reward—your destiny—are here and now.”
--Dag Hammarskjold, Markings

I follow a blog by the author of The Happiness Project and this was the quote at the beginning of a post I read today. It really struck me...so much that I had to share it. I've been having so many flashbacks to the days I gave birth to and lost my sons ever since I met with the high risk doctor. I need frequent reminders not to dwell on those days...the two most difficult days I have ever experienced. Those memories are vivid and strong as if it were yesterday. It is shocking, still, to feel their power. It takes all I have to pull my self out of them.

To be honest I find it nearly impossible to dream about the future, especially relating to this current pregnancy, because I know at any moment it could be over. I continue to try to enjoy each moment and let the fear be what it is and let it go (easier said than done most days, but I try). Of course, I do catch myself contemplating things like the nursery and the sex of the baby but it is usually tempered with a great big "IF we get that far..."

Remembering my boys and talking about them is emotional...sometimes sad and teary, other times all smiles. Even a year and nearly three months later I still waffle between heartbreak and joy. I imagine that will never change. I still struggle with "should be" thoughts and how they make me feel.

I know a million wishes will never bring them back to me, yet I still make those wishes.

A Second Car, Baggage Included...

Buying a new car is a dreaded and fun experience all rolled into one. Does anyone really enjoy the nitty gritty details, filling out that paperwork? But getting to test drive and take it home, that is fun.

When we found out we were expecting our sons we started researching a new vehicle. We had more or less settled on a CRV and planned on buying one a month or so before they were due (Jan or Feb 2011). That plan went out the window when our boys were born prematurely and died as a result.

So here we are a year later actually using the initial research which led us back to a new CRV purchase since being a 1 car family is not working anymore. It wasn't until I was driving the new car home that the realization that the plan had been a new CRV with two car seats in the back, not empty like it is now. And that was how my weekend came to a close...ugh!

The rest of the week was filled with increased anxiety leading up to my appointment with the high risk specialist. The dread of having to retell the story of my sons' birth/death weighed heavier and heavier. The only bright spot was knowing I would get a peak at Speck again.

I liked the doctor, she was kind, sensitive and straight forward. I couldn't control my tears, but she was understanding. Unfortunately, there are no specific reasons as to why I went into premature labor. This doctor says there is little to no chance that incompetent cervix is to blame (which is good news for my current pregnancy) and unless the pathology report from the placenta (which is missing from my copy of the hospital records) shows infection there really is no other explanation other than it was my body's inability to carry a twin pregnancy. Despite the "anticipated positive outcome" of a singleton pregnancy, I will have frequent (most likely every 2 weeks) cervical checks starting at 16 weeks.

The doctor also said that she is not too concerned about me being on my feet all day since studies have shown that preventative bed rest has little to no affect on pregnancy outcomes. I know I am nervous and over-cautious, but it is hard to turn off the instinct that doing what my job requires (on my feet and constantly moving) might be too much while I am pregnant.

All of this has been kind of hard to process...I have always felt that my body failed my boys. Not necessarily that I personally failed or could have changed what happened, but that something went wrong. However, not having any other reason other than my body failed does not make me feel better...in fact I think I feel worse. The "why" will always be a mystery (unless I can track down that pathology report and I am mistaken about the dr who delivered the boys saying no infection was present).

While I re-reconcile the loss of my boys there have been more tears than I've had in a long time. Revisiting those darkest of days has put me right back in that hard place. And as much as I love my new car, I can't help but long for those two car seats that should be there holding my sons.

A better day...

Yesterday was a pretty dark day filled with fear and grief. Despite the grey clouds, a little ray of sunshine pushed back the fear when I found out our baby is ok.

Still scared, but for this second, all is good.

(A more detailed update to follow over on aspeckofhope.blogspot.com)

Is fear winning?

Tomorrow is my first appointment with my regular OB and although there is no reason to think things are less than ok...but all I can think about is that I need to be prepared to hear the worst because that is what is coming.

I have a feeling that this is comes from making my list of questions to ask tomorrow. Going back over my pregnancy with my boys with a fine tooth comb, reviewing my medical records for any detail missed and replaying the day I went into labor trying to see if there were any clues as to what was about to happen. I've done this a million times but now there is another life on the line and no answers.

I lost my boys because my water broke at 23w6d and I had "silent" labor that proceeded very quickly once my water broke. So how do I stop this from happening again?

That's the question at the top of the list. I am terrified that not having the answer to why it happened in the first place doesn't leave many options.

So, now to figure out how to stop fear from winning.