Seven months ago I never though I could make it this far...how could I? My babies had just died. My heart was shattered to a million bits and two huge pieces were missing.
Somehow my heart managed to get put back together, probably not as it used to be, but it is bandaged and working. It still hurts from time to time, but it is more of a dull ache than a sharp, stabbing, throbbing fresh pain.
This past weekend hubby and I were supposed to go to my parents to celebrate the 4th, but in the end we decided to have a quiet weekend, just the two of us. Hubby had quite a rough end of his week and I really think he was dreading heading to my hometown...he hasn't been since we lost William and Ethan. He was in a terrible funk and the more I thought about going home to "celebrate" felt all wrong. I couldn't bear the thought of sympathetic looks and hugs or uncomfortable conversations that were completely void of what we went through 7 months ago. It was just too much for the both of us so we stayed home and just were together...no big party, no parade, no fireworks (well, they were all around us and our neighbor's son accidentally hit our house with one he set off...but that is a whole other story)...just us and our memories. I cried once...the really hard, ugly kind of cry...but I felt relieved afterwards. Our moods improved as the weekend went on and we were content to be together.
We also played the game of "Life" on hubby's i.pad...it is very addicting. I even played a few times (ok 5) on my own and as if it was some cosmic message delivered through the game I could only end the game with twin boys or no kids at all. Yup...that's my life of dealing with infertility and loss in a nut shell. Only in the game there are no losses like mine. Although somehow you can miraculously have grandchildren without children...figure that one out!
I am still struggling with the what "should be" thoughts. I walked downtown to run some small errands and as I passed through the park I could literally see the stroller I was supposed to get with both boys snoozing away...it wasn't a hallucination...it was just something I could visualize more realistically than I could ever imagine. I am not sure why, but I never think of myself with just Ethan. He lived one day and for that day only I reorganized my thoughts to what it would be like to take care of just him. When he died those thoughts went with him. All of the imaginings since then are of both boys and what I should have with both of them.
All in all, things are at an ok place...not great (they never will be)...but ok. I still need to put more effort in to looking forward, but I am getting there.