I have wanted to write more often, but I've been busy, and overwhelmed by the sheer number of thoughts that go through my head each day. Literally from joy to panic and back again, with some grief thrown into the middle. Such is my "new normal," I guess. I'm going to attempt some coherent updates, but be warned... this will be a long one!

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Christmas was really good! We enjoyed seeing family, watching our nephews and niece run around like maniacs all weekend, opening presents, resting, and soaking in the joy of Christmas. Christmas Day itself was a bit tough... I was concerned that I would lose it during the marathon two-hour gift-opening that morning (I had visions of me crying while trapped in the room by piles of gifts, forcing me to sob in front of everyone), but I was OK. I was OK until we (inconveniently) were at someone else's house. And then I lost it. And spent over half an hour sitting in a bedroom and crying. I couldn't even put into words what I was feeling... my tears were the only way to express how much I missed Asher & Evan. I am lucky that our family is more than understanding, and no one made a big deal of it. And I was fine the rest of the day. I think I just needed some time to acknowledge and feel the pain, in the midst of all the happiness.

J kept asking me if I "had an OK Christmas" like it really sucked but I managed to get through. I tried to emphasize that Christmas was actually really good. My new normal means that I can spend an hour sobbing, and still have an OK day. I'm (sadly) used to it. If that weren't the case I would be completely insane by now.

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I'm slowly catching up on blog reading—and will be even slower to catch up on commenting—but I am so thrilled to see all the rainbow pregnancies lately! I am praying for happy, healthy, normal, uneventful pregnancies for each of you.

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So, the "joy-to-panic-and-back-again" thing. Of course this has to do with Baby 3, who is happily growing in my belly and giving me all kinds of digestive issues. :-) I am thrilled, thrilled, thrilled, and so thankful to be 16 and a half weeks pregnant with this little one. When I am able to focus on the joy I am moved to tears by how thankful I am. However, it's a daily struggle to focus on the joy over the terror that sneaks into my mind. I've had so many thoughts that I would never voice aloud, but have wanted to share here, as I'm sure many of you can relate. I worry how much time I have left with this baby, and feel like a ticking time bomb. Quick refresher: I was admitted to the hospital at 21 weeks, delivered at 22 and a few days. I was most definitely showing signs of pre-e at my 20-week appointment. So, yeah. Did I mention I'm approaching 17 weeks??? As we get closer to 20 my blood pressure will probably rise just from the stress.

I had lunch with my mom yesterday and we talked about being nervous. She commented that I have to try not to be too nervous, but then said, "But how can you do that? How is that possible? Meditation, what? How do you do it?" I shrugged. I just do. What choice do I have?

Aside from praying and surrendering my worries to God, I haven't found anything else that really helps me calm down. Honestly it helps me to remind myself that I have absolutely no control over how this turns out. I. Have. No. Control. This helps because it allows me to stop dwelling and worrying so much about things. It's wasted energy. All I can do is enjoy each day that I have with this baby. I hope and pray that I will have years with this child, but even if it's only today, I'm striving to be thankful just for that.


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And lastly, I know that many babyloss moms out there have "goals" that they want to reach in their pregnancies. Whether or not these dates mean anything, it somehow helps to have small victories to reach. Here are the dates I'm praying for. I will be ecstatic to reach any/each of them:

• January 22: the week of my birthday, 20 weeks pregnant.
• February 9: 22 weeks and 4 days pregnant. This will be the most pregnant I have ever been, and past the day when we lost the boys.
• February 19: 24 weeks pregnant

I can't even think beyond 24 at this point. If I get to 24 with no pre-e I will be crying and puking and sobbing with joy. (Seriously. Thanks to Baby 3, if I cry too hard I start gagging, and you know what comes next....)

This is silly, but I somehow feel like I'm tempting fate by listing these days. Isn't that weird? I mean, I'm a Christian, so I believe God is in absolute control, and He doesn't work that way. Yet every step I take to "commit" more fully to this pregnancy, I feel a little nervous that I somehow jinxed myself. As Mich.ael Scott would say, "I'm not superstitious... but I am a little stitious."

Happy News!

Over the past year, I have felt a mixture of emotions like I've never experienced before. Who knew it was possible to feel so many different things at once? But the bitterness of the bitter sometimes makes the sweet all that much sweeter. There is great beauty in contrast.

It's with that intro that I share one of the newest, sweetest things: I am pregnant!

The quick details: I'm 13 weeks and some odd days along. I'm due June 11th. One baby, all looks great so far! You can expect to read a lot more about my shifting emotional state over the next several months as I try to maintain sanity. I am already so in love with this little one, and so thankful for each day with him or her. Thanks for sharing in our excitement!

The Beginning of the End

One year ago today, I was admitted to the hospital on a Monday afternoon. I was 21 weeks pregnant, and my blood pressure was 180/120.

I had gone into the clinic over lunch for some lab work, and decided to have the nurse check my BP while I was there, "just in case." Other than crazy swelling I wasn't having any specific symptoms that anything was wrong, but I am a bit of a hypochondriac and thought I would have them check me out for my own peace of mind. I had no idea that my BP would be so high, that the nurse would have me lay down and immediately summon my doctor. No idea that he would tell me to go to the hospital, right now, without returning to work. No idea that I would place a tearful call to my husband to come get me... a call that he will probably never forget.

One year ago today, even as we arrived at the hospital and they gave me a room in Labor & Delivery, I had no idea that it was the beginning of the end. I had an inkling that I might have long weeks of bed rest ahead, and maybe babies in the NICU... I wish I were still blissfully unaware that sometimes babies do, in fact, die.

I am thankful that I will not be admitted to the hospital this afternoon. That I am much healthier and feeling much better than I did that day. But oh, how I miss them today. I hate that I am so busy lately... because I don't have time to deal with all the emotions. I still think about them every day, of course, but I do not have time to rest in these feelings of loss, to fully acknowledge how much I still grieve for them. My brain is so full of so many things.

On another (happier) note, I do have something to share, but I'll save it for another post. Take this as your cue to skip the next one if today isn't a good day for you. I will more than understand!

ETA: I forgot to say thank you to those of you who left helpful comments/encouragement on my last post. I really appreciate it. We're still up in the air about the day, but I am focusing on not making myself feel guilty, whatever we do or don't do.

This Ache (ttc)

So far, fall has been kinda rough for me. I am feeling such opposing emotions all the time, and it's wearing me thin.

By now last year we knew it was twins, and all our families knew. I don't know exactly what week I would have been. I am purposely not figuring it out. My grief most often takes the form of a deep ache. So deep that it feels like it's coming from something outside of me, like something is dragging me down to the center of the earth (cue John Mayer's song "Gravity"... maybe that's why I like that song??).

I am at a loss for words on a regular basis. I've lost the ability to precisely describe anything, let alone my emotions.

And at the same time, there is hope of things to come. Hope of the future, and new beginnings, and another try. And while I am incredibly happy to be at this point, I am sad that we have to be. It's the ultimate happy/sad experience.

The last time I spoke to my mom on the phone (just a brief call to check in) we chatted for a bit, and I was distracted because I was at work. Toward the end of the call she said, "Well, anything else exciting going on?" and there was this pause as her words hung in the air. I wonder how much my family wonders when we'll be pregnant again (we're pretty private about our plans IRL). "Nope, just working," I replied. Nothing exciting going on yet. Maybe there will be soon.

P.S. I've been thinking about this blog lately, and am considering going private again. Of course, any babyloss moms that read would be welcome, and anyone else outside of my family/close friends.

I think I need some new clothes

The weather turned suddenly to fall this morning, with a strong wind and crisp air. Minnesota doesn’t mess around with changing seasons! Time for fall clothes, even. I don’t have a very large wardrobe so am thankful for the opportunity to wear more long sleeves.

I stare into my closet, mentally sorting through my options. I select a brown shirt that I bought last fall from Old Navy. Kind of a loose, blousy style. Haven't worn this in a while. As I pad around the bedroom in my slippers and robe (put on at the first sign of a chill) assembling the rest of my outfit, I start to feel very disoriented. Fall always makes me nostalgic, but now I am thinking to this time last year. This time last year I was almost 8 weeks pregnant. This time last year we were about to visit J’s family and share our news.

This time last year I went shopping at Old Navy to find some clothes to ease me into pregnancy. Not maternity clothes, but styles loose enough to hide my stomach until I was ready to spill the beans at work.

This time last year I was padding around the bedroom in my robe, thinking of the new life inside of me. Feeling so hopeful and overjoyed. We didn’t even know it was twins yet. This time last year I bought this brown shirt.

I put the shirt back in the closet.

Instead, I am wearing a shirt I bought after my pregnancy. Also purchased to hide my stomach. I am somewhat cheered to see how much better I look in the shirt than I did in February, but I can tell fall is going to be rough. So many memories of last year. Every memory of pregnancy is the absolute definition of bittersweet. We were so, so happy. We had no idea what was to come.

Summer Vacation Part 1: Faith's Lodge

At long last, here is part 1 (of 2) of our recent vacation! Our hopes for this time were to relax, get away (that was a biggie), honor and remember our boys, and reflect on the past 7 months. Also to just have FUN and breathe. I think we got all of that and more, and we are so thankful.

The first week of our vacation included three nights at Faith's Lodge in Wisconsin. Faith's Lodge is a nonprofit retreat center for families and couples who have lost a child, or are dealing with the terminal illness of a child.

I cannot recommend Faith's Lodge enough. If you are anywhere in the Midwest (or want to come here) you must visit this unique and serene place. While there we felt both lifted up and supported, and also allowed to sink into the weight of our grief.

The lodge itself was gorgeous! 12,000 square feet, 4 floors. It includes a large commercial kitchen, eating area, wraparound porch, library, craft room, "Eagle's Nest" with beautiful views, and plenty of cozy areas to sit and read or talk.

While there we met 5 other couples who have lost babies. No two stories were alike, but for the first time we experienced a community of others who have truly "been there." J and I have both found encouragement through blogs and the online community, but it was almost surreal to meet people "in real life." It took a little time for everyone to warm up, but we left with new friends and the feeling that we'd known some of the couples for years, rather than days. Slowly, everyone shared their stories, and we connected through similar experiences, while reflecting on the uniqueness of each situation.

There is something incredibly bonding and healing about sitting with people for hours, who you hardly knew until a couple days before, and talking about grief, and pain, and the hardest things in your life, without having to qualify your statements. Everyone just seemed to "get it." I can't describe the feeling, but it was so, so welcome.

There were a few activities planned each day, but we were free to do as much or as little as we chose. We created a bird house and a mosaic stone to add to the boys' garden. We hiked the Inspiration Path. We canoed on the pond. We spent lots of time reading and reflecting.

There is a bridge at the lodge that is surrounded by small, heart-shaped stones. Each of the stones has been decorated and placed in memory of a child. It was actually pretty overwhelming—like stars in the sky, more and more stones stood out to us the longer we looked. We decorated a stone and placed it under a tree to honor Asher and Evan. It was a very meaningful tribute to them.

Faith's Lodge was so good in so many ways. It was also difficult in some ways. Some parts were both good and hard. It was a time of sharing, processing, and healing. We are so very thankful that a place like this exists, and that we had the opportunity to visit.

And now a few pictures:

Vacation!!

It's finally here! The vacation we've been hoping for, dreaming about, and desperately needing for many months is finally here!

We have two weeks off of work. Two weeks! I am just beside myself. I haven't had that much time away from work since college. (Well, unless you count my 6 weeks at home after the boys were born, which I certainly don't. I may have been off from work, but that was anything but a vacation.)

We have felt such a need, such a desire to get away from everything, and we feel so blessed that it is actually coming together for us. This vacation feels like a gift—from God, of course, but also from Asher & Evan. In some ways, this trip would not have happened without them. I hope that doesn't sound weird, because I don't mean it that way! But I like to think of it as a gift from them, a way to help us heal. This trip is not only from them, but because of them, and for them. It is time away to focus, relax, heal, and honor our boys. To soak them in, remember them, and cherish their memories. And also to live again, to feel joy, to live life more fully because of, and in honor of them.

bittersweet.

"Good"

When people ask how I'm doing in passing, I've found myself able to reply "good" again for the first time in a long time. The truth is, we are doing better than a few months ago, and much better than a couple months before that, when I wondered if anything would ever be good again. The most I could manage then was an "OK."

But in addition to feeling a little better, my definition of good has changed.

My new, slightly subdued "good" has a hint of hesitation to it. Like Why yes, I am doing OK today. Thank you for asking because I didn't realize that I feel OK, and am somewhat surprised that I'm not on the verge of tears.

I suppose everyone has their go-to response to "How are you?" that rarely changes, no matter how they actually feel. One of my coworkers responds "Fine thank you how are you?" without fail anytime someone asks. My "good" is no longer an automated response to fit the social norm. I have to think about it.

If you ask how I'm doing and I say, "Good," it doesn't mean Everything is back to normal, or I don't have a care in the world, or I'm not thinking of my babies. It means I am happy that I could get out of bed today, or I am doing better, or I am learning to live with this unending ache in my heart.

I'm still on the verge of tears sometimes. But when I am able to reply "good" I don't feel like I'm lying anymore. I saw this quote on another BLM blog, from the book Still by Stephanie Cole, and it explains this odd feeling. My new "good" is a sign of my increasing ability to deal with my loss, not a sign that the pain is going away. I just have a new standard of what it means to feel good:

"People will tell you that time heals. Those people are liars. The pain doesn't go away, you just build up your tolerance to it. It is like lifting weights. If you try to lift 500 pounds, it is going to crush you. But if you lift it every day of your life, it is going to get easier and easier to do, and eventually you are going to lift it without breaking a sweat..."

Perhaps instead of responding, "Good!" I should be saying, "As good as I can be!"

Ultrasound

I had an ultrasound on my thyroid this morning. The exam itself was unremarkable. The hardest part was that it took place in the same room where we had our first ultrasound with the boys. This was the exam where we discovered that there were two of them! I will never forget that day. I remember the shocked grins on our faces, the excited disbelief, and J saying, "Well, you and the babies have a good day at work!" as we parted ways after the appointment.

I can still picture that first ultrasound image in my head, although I haven't seen it in months. It is one of the cutest things I have ever seen—my two little jelly bean babies just starting to grow. That day at work was agonizing, because I was only 9 weeks along and hadn't told anyone the news. I sat at my desk grinning at my computer screen the whole day, trying desperately to focus on my work. It took a few days before the news really sunk in.

We had only one ultrasound in this room because we switched to a high-risk doctor after that point, so the room is particularly significant to me. It brought back all kinds of memories I hadn't anticipated. Funny how the simplest things are complicated now, especially when it comes to doctor's visits.

Happy/sad.