Wyatt River

My heart is with Courtney and Jason, who lost their son Wyatt today. Wyatt joins his brothers Logan and Brody in heaven. Words cannot begin to express my sadness for them.

Can I get a Do-over?

This weekend did not go quite as planned.

We had planned to have a garage sale on Saturday, participating in the all-city garage sale day. We'd been (OK, I'd been) counting on this day for several months. We had signs, money to make change, all our wares neatly arranged on borrowed folding tables, everything priced to sell.

We started out at 8 am. While J went to get us breakfast at Caribou (he read my mind!) I cheerily made our first (and what would become our only) sale of $1.

At about 10:30, the sky got seriously ominous looking. "This wasn't in the forecast!" I insisted. Indeed, the current weather still said nothing about rain. We nudged our tables closer to the garage and prepared for a mad dash. And then it started raining, and HAILING. We quickly carried everything back inside, shut the garage door, and went inside. It rained for several more hours, enough to effectively cancel our garage sale.

We decided to try again next weekend. We will have another sale. No big deal. Seriously, I mean it's disappointing, but it's just a garage sale, right? And yet as I told myself these things, I began to cry. Fully aware at the ridiculousness of crying about a failed garage sale, of all things. But at the same time I knew that it wasn't really about the garage sale.

Disappointment has been a prevailing emotion since we lost the boys. To put it bluntly, I am used to things working out or me. I don't say that like I'm so awesome, but I am not used to failure. I am not used to plans failing so catastrophically. Losing the boys was by far the biggest disappointment of my life. And ever since that, any time plans fall through it hits me extra hard. It takes me right back to the largest failure of my entire life: failing to "follow through" and complete my pregnancy, ending with two healthy little boys. Now, every little disappointment only reminds me of that.

Something else that contributed to my disproportionate response is that is takes so darn much energy to get excited about anything lately. I was exhausted by the task, by trying to psych myself up for it, and by the let-down of all that energy going to waste.

:::

Also this weekend, some friends of our gave birth to healthy, BIG (7 lbs each at 35 weeks!!) twin girls. I am happy for them. But I cannot talk about it, or say more than that. I am really, truly happy for them, I am. But it just hurts way too much to think about it. I'm taking the week off from Facebook, so I can miss the congratulating, well-wishing, and photos. I really feel like a big jerk. And yet so helpless to feel any other way. Ugh.

:::

So, the weekend was hard. There were other things, but I've whined enough to give you an idea.

On the plus side, we heard a great sermon on Sunday about suffering, and the Good News amidst it all. Our church has gone through a LOT of stuff over the last couple of years. Lots of births, deaths, medical diagnoses, cancer, job loss, etc, etc, etc. In fact, our pastor had a list (without names, of course) of some events we've gone through as a body, and it was pretty amazing to see. The whole point was that life is hard, but we have hope. I am trying to hang onto that truth this week.


In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.
—John 16:33

Pity Party Friday

I'm in kind of a funk today. I've been in a funk for a few days, actually. I should be excited that it's Friday, but I'm not really looking forward to this weekend. We're going to Newtown. Normally I like going to Newtown, and I am looking forward to seeing family. BUT I am not looking forward to the inevitable awkwardness and possible crying that will take place. I am not looking forward to attending church on Sunday, and (I imagine) being bombarded with hugs and platitudes. The chances of hearing some cheesy phrase that will make me angry, rather than help, increases dramatically once we enter the town limits. Ugh. Dread. I hope it goes OK. I mostly hope that I don't make a scene, or burst into tears randomly at some point this weekend.

Dave has an idea to meet with us and go through a book, to help us through this process. I looked at the ones he suggested, and makes me sad that I have to even consider reading a book like this. The titles alone are enough to make anyone depressed: A Silent Sorrow; Empty Cradle, Full Heart; When Your Baby Dies. I mean, jeez. I guess I'm in a cynical mood today, because really, I want to read a book, and I'm sure it will be helpful. But it just sucks that I'm in this position. I guess I'm just feeling sorry for myself today, and the point my life is at right now. Maybe this weekend will help me feel better. I hope!

Oh, how I miss them. My heart just aches. My entire body, every cell, feels the emptiness. I can be fine for a while, but then, wham, I am blindsided by grief. Usually when I have some time to myself, like tonight.

I cannot express in words the deep ache that I feel. No one should ever, ever have to know what this feels like. Tears streaming down my face, uncontrollable sobs. Pain that literally chokes me. I would do anything to have them with me. To go back to the day before I went to the hospital, when I was still blissfully unaware of the danger all three of us were in. Or even to relive the few minutes of their sweet, precious lives on this earth. To hold them again. I am so glad that those moments were peaceful, and they knew nothing but love and comfort. I am glad that they won't ever have to know what this feels like—to lose someone. To lose your own child. I am forever thankful that they have been spared the pain of this life.

Not thinking positively today....

I told myself that I wouldn't blog at work.

But right now it feels like I can't make myself do anything else. Work has been "good" overall, but it is SO stinkin' hard to not have the luxury of thinking about my boys whenever I want to. I can't think about them any old time, because I have other things I should be thinking about, projects to work on, deadlines to meet. I can't just cry any time I want, either, so the thinking has to be kept to a minimum.

I am impossible to please. When I'm crying, I am so sick of crying. I want to be distracted, to have even a moment where my mind is not consumed with grief and pain. Now that I'm back at work, all I want to do is go home and think about Asher and Evan all day. I miss them.

Really what it boils down to is that I am SO. TIRED. So tired of feeling this way. I am trapped in my own life. Not that I don't want to be alive, because I do, and I am happy to be here still.* But I am trapped in a really sucky version of my life. There is no escaping your own circumstances.

*Side note: Every time I complain about my life, I feel the need to have the disclaimer that I'm really still glad to be here. I realize that I should be thankful to be alive, and I recognize that I probably sound very ungrateful for it. So I have this need to offer a disclaimer to God, that I'm aware that He saved my life in all of this. It makes me feel like a jerk, that I can't be more grateful sometimes. But this is a topic for another day.

Dreams & Church

I had a dream about the babies last night. It's the first time that real life has infiltrated my sleep.

In my dream it was Sunday morning, and J was getting ready to leave for church (as he did IRL). I was still in bed, but then I heard a baby cry, and realized that J had a baby to care for, too. And I thought, I should get up and help him, because we still have one of our babies! But as I got up to find the baby, the cries faded away, and I slowly realized that no, we lost both of them. We don't have any babies.

When I woke up I felt so sad, I almost considered skipping church again. But I made myself go. I can't hide out forever, although I want to. Attending service by myself is so difficult. J isn't far away, and joins me once he's done with music. But it's all I can do not to burst into tears during the first half of service. Perhaps it's because on those mornings I am alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that automatically, unconsciously, are always about my boys. And then a song will hit me especially hard, or a pregnant woman will sit too close, and BAM! I am standing there crying during worship. I cry every time I go to church, during and/or after. I wish I could just attend service like a normal person, and smile and be happy.

Me, whining.

I am so tired. I was tired yesterday because of Wednesday night, and then we went to Mom's last night for dinner. And today I have been trying to clean the house. It's only 11:30ish and I feel like I could take a nap. I decided to stop cleaning, because I need enough energy to shower, go to a doctor's appointment, stop at Walgreen's, and then visit with BJ. I hate that I don't have enough energy to do simple, everyday things. And it's making me more and more worried about returning to work in a week. How will I manage, if I can barely mop the floors?

I'm also really tired of having to share all of my medical info with everyone. I don't mind filling people in on the details of how I was sick, how bad it was, etc, because it seems to help them understand. BUT I am so sick of my parents, J's parents, and other people asking about every single doctor's visit, etc. I don't feel like telling everyone when I got my period, how long it will be until we can try to get pregnant again, how my bleeding has been, what my latest blood pressure was, etc, etc, etc. Leave me alone! I'm glad that people care, but I am extremely tired of the lack of privacy about my body. I have enough doctors keeping tabs on me, without everyone else, too.

This week has been hard. I don't know why. It almost feels like I'm doing worse than before, emotionally. A lot of it is probably anxiety about going back to work and "leaving" this period behind. Not that I will, in any way, be done processing/grieving. But I feel like I will be forced to move on in some ways. Anyway, enough rambling for today. Although I will probably write about my doctor's appointment... I hope it goes OK!

Sigh.

I went off my blood pressure medication yesterday... second attempt at being done with it.

Just took my blood pressure around 5 after being up and about. It was 162/93. Sigh. After a chat with the on-call doctor, I am back on the labetalol. Joy.

I really just want to be better. Physically, I mean. I'm so tired of feeling "not well." I have felt better lately, but as long as I'm on medication, I don't feel normal.