Friday, February 4, 2011


Today marks two months since William and Ethan made their early entrance. Two months sounds like so little time, especially when it feels like a lifetime has passed since they were born and died.

I decided yesterday to take today off from school. I could barely keep it together yesterday so I was exhausted and emotionally spent by the end of the day from trying not to cry all day long. I knew it would be harder today and planned a day by myself to grieve, cry, and take care of a few little things I have been meaning to do since I lost the boys. So far a great deal of the crying has taken place and I am sure I am not done yet. The grieving is an all day every day affair so I am just rolling with whatever emotions pop up. The two of the things I wanted to make sure I did today are done. I have ordered a copy of our medical records from the hospital where I gave birth and took care of some unraveling.

I am a knitter. As soon as I found out I was having twins I ordered some soft yellow and green yarn to make hats for my babies. This was very early on and way before I knew they were boys. I made fraternal hats since I was 99% sure my babies were fraternal twins (we transferred 2 embies during my IVF). I also started a sweater and intended on making two that would match the hats, one green and one yellow.

Since these were items I knit with love for my boys I couldn't bare the thought of them being worn by any other baby. I also couldn't quite bring my self to frogging (the knitting term for pulling the project apart) since it would mean another goodbye to the dreams I had for William and Ethan. Some how today felt like the day I could do it. I pulled up my favorite playlist on my iPod and set down with the sweater and two hats. I started with the sweater first since it was a work in progress and needed no knots undone. As soon as I started unraveling the stitches the tears started to trickle down my cheeks. I rolled the unraveling yarn into a ball and started to sob. I could barely see what I was doing as I pulled out the last stitches of the sweater. I calmed a little as I started on the first hat and just kept unraveling row after row of lovingly knit stitches. By the time I finished frogging the second at I was no longer crying. I can't say I felt better but unraveling these three things I knit for my boys was cathartic. I am not sure what I will do with these balls of yarn. My mom has knit a few preemie caps to give to the hospitals where the boys were born and where Ethan was in NICU. Perhaps I will give them to her or maybe I will save them and knit something new if we get pregnant again some day. I guess I will wait and see what feels right.

I also went back and re-read the letter I wrote to William and Ethan a month ago. I thought I might write another set of letters for today, but I wouldn't say anything different so just reading them again felt good and incredibly sad at the same time. I also sat down and looked at all the things in their memory boxes. I have all of the photos of them now and I can see a close resemblance between the boys despite their bruising and tubing. I read somewhere about a place that will retouch photos to remove bruising...I'll have to see if I can find them again and see what they might be able to do with the photos I have.

The poem i carry your heart by E.E. Cummings has popped up in a number of places lately (twice today) and it is hard not to find it relevant to how I feel. It also pairs nicely with a symbol that I have been carrying in my head (and heart) for what represents me and my sons...the two pieces of my heart. I drew this heart in the snow last Thursday when I was out shoveling snow. Since I carry the boys in my heart always I plan on creating this symbol where ever and when ever I can. Here is the poem if you have never read it before.

i carry your heart with me
(i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it
(anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate
(for you are my fate, my sweet)
i want no world
(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart 
(i carry it in my heart)

It says so much that I can not.

I have one last thing to do today and that is email my nurse at the RE clinic. I mainly just want to let her now what happened since she was so good to me during our IVF cycle. Plus I want to see what steps we will need to take when we are actually ready. My period did come this was a bit of a surprise since I was sure it was coming anytime soon...and I said I would contact them after it came.

For those of you who commented on my last post, thank you for your kind words...I have a feeling a lot of the anxiety/upset I felt was rooted in PMS and magnified by grief. I have not ruled out going to the group and there is plenty of time to decide since they meet the first Wednesday of the month. This Wednesday we had horrible weather so even if I had gotten the letter I probably wouldn't have gone or it was canceled. There is another group that meets at a different hospital I might look into as well and possibly one at the hospital where I was supposed to deliver.



  1. Aw, those were such cute hats. Cathartic indeed.

    I luv the hearts in the snow. It would make a beautiful piece of jewelry.

    I think I might read that poem on Sunday, on Serenity's birthday.

  2. The groups are hard to go to at first. Overwhelming, really, to hear so many stories and actually see the people who have also lost babies, it's like the online baby loss community but more in your face. But for me, it was/is very helpful, but it took a couple of meetings before the overwhelming-ness of it wore off.

    The hats are adorable and I'm glad you took a picture. Just remember, you don't have to do anything with any of it unless you want to/feel ready. We have boxes of Olivia's stuff in the basement and I don't have any intention of getting rid of any of it. (A few things we will probably use with our rainbow baby, things that we would have re-used with him even if she had lived. But there are also things that are *hers* and for her only that I won't ever get rid of.) But that's what is "right" for me/us and luckily we have the space. For others, it's right to give it away/sell it/etc.

  3. I love your picture of the hearts in the snow...beautiful! The hats were adorable and obviously made with so much love. I've also gotten into knitting, but not until after we lost Lily. I decided to take up the hobby and make some things for our local hospital bereavement team. I hope you are able to experience some gentle moments today as you remember your boys & feel the love of others reaching out and remembering with you ((hugs))

  4. Yes, that image of the hearts inside your heart in the snow was just beautiful! You are in my heart and thoughts today. I am no so far ahead of you in this journey (I lost Trace 4 months ago yesterday), so I feel your pain and as I weep for your loss, I also mourn the loss of my twins boys too. The pictures of them are something I now hold near and dear. What was once painful to see now warms my heart.

    Be kind to yourself. Hugs to you today.

  5. Oh honey... I have no words, just hugs.

  6. Thinking of you, and of your boys.

  7. The poem made me cry, it was so beautiful. Thank you for sharing. I just came across your blog today, and am finding it very helpful. I lost my little girl, Love, one month ago (January 19th) and am having a difficult time. I am sorry for your loss. However, I am finding it comforting to know I am not alone. Thank you again for sharing your journey...