Everything the Same. Everything Different.

May 14, 2012

No matter how big of a surprise a pregnancy is, there is a certain point where most of us accept and start to plan for what is to come.

I had about 6 weeks of planning for another child after the test, then 10 weeks of planning for twins. In that time, I managed to start to wrap my head around the changes that were to come with two babies in the house and a toddler. Of the life that would be drastically altered in the months to come. I was excited and nervous, and the compulsive cleaner in me wondered if I’d have any time to housekeep again. I wrote about it here, on Babble, I changed plans to go to any blog conferences ever again (ever lol), and settled in.

And then life as I planned for it disappeared in the blink of an eye. 

This has, hands down, been one of the hardest things to accept the past few weeks. The future life I had come to love and accept and look forward to was completely gone.

But in it’s place was the one waiting for me – so much the same as before I got pregnant.

It’s such a strange thing to wake up to. Everything the same. Everything different.

I came home trying to put the pieces back together. To figure out where we go from here – children, Bella, working, writing, marriage. So many of these thoughts felt like a travesty on my son’s short lives – because they weren’t here yet there wasn’t a lot that changed at home. I’ve struggled with wanting something to keep me busy in the down times but not wanting to simply replace them.

But I know no matter what, nothing can change what happened. Life goes on and there are things that have to keep going. No matter how much I long for what could have been, no matter how much I miss them, no matter how unfair it all seems. I have a life here that carries on.

So slowly, I’ve started to rebuild. To find a new path. To take their memories and try to let go of the guilt of doing things different or going back to an old way. Some of it is simply Sam and I trying to find a bit of comfort in the middle of intense pain.

We talk about adoption again. I reach out to different sites where I can write. We’re going on a short trip as a family up north. I’m thinking about BlogHer – where I can reconnect with so many of the women who fought hard for us the past few weeks. I want to find a way to advocate for pregnant moms, for their right to have total care in a hospital. It’s hard knowing that none of this would have been possible had I still had my boys. I certainly wouldn’t have traded it. But I got handed a new life anyway, as much as I fought to hold on to the one I wanted.

And I push aside the guilt. Knowing that if something happened to me, I’d want Sam and Bella and my family to find their own new normal – their own happiness in the pain.

I’d give anything, anything on earth for it to go back to what it was going to be. It still takes my breath away with the pain that I’ll never have them. Time is fading the intensity but never the memories I’ll have the rest of my life – and I don’t want them faded. I would do anything to hold onto what we had. But because I can’t do that, I’ll do my best to make the new life worth it. I think that’s what they would have wanted for us.

Prev Post Next Post