I don’t want my blog to turn into a baby loss blog.
As strange as that sounds. But it ties in with my life. I don’t want my life to be about how I lost my boys. It’s early to make any drastic changes or statements, but I don’t want this to consume me. Make my world into grief. I cling to times I feel ok because there are still so many I don’t and it’s so, so hard to have it wrap me up again and then to pull out of it.
Yes, this is awful. I never in a million years thought this would happen to us. It’s breathtakingly painful.
Right now I can’t be on Facebook, my email nags at me, and Twitter even causes me to catch my breath with comments that aren’t thought out before someone hits Tweet. Their handprints are in my closet waiting with tiny pictures of them only for our eyes. I found the ultrasounds today in my drawer. I put my maternity clothes away yesterday and bawled. This is hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. It has changed us forever.
But it’s not a nightmare. I won’t let it become that. I will not allow my boys death to be the cause of our family ripping apart or my daughter being ignored or turn what happened into a fear so great we can’t get past it. I won’t let this blog become somewhere that people cringe when they see a post – even though it is a great solace to have those days on here when I need to.
I refuse to let their legacy become one of tragedy.
I believe that out of this there will come a blessing. As crazy as that sounds right now. Maybe it’s just me clinging to anything to get me through, but I can’t imagine this is it. They were born, they died. The End.
I won’t let it happen. We went through so much the past few weeks to keep them here, I learned so much about laws and rights and so many of your stories have made me cry for you. For what you went through as a mother. I was blessed to be able to have a hospital that let me stay earlier than 20 weeks and when they died – they were recognized. I was never made to feel (after Monday) that my struggle was in vain or silly. My children meant something there – and they let me know it.
But so many of you never got that chance. And no matter what you believe or what religion you are or aren’t – choosing to have a baby and then losing it at any stage changes you forever. To not have it recognized before a certain point is cruel and dehumanizing. My boys were born 3 days shy of 20 weeks. It makes so much of a difference every week that went by – somehow to someone they were closer to “real” and after that point, after those weeks, it was ok to grieve. And this truly bothers me.
I don’t know why we went through what we did. Why we suffered so much to keep them here only to lose them in the end. It hurts every.single.day to think about how much I wanted them to be here with me. I’d have done anything to keep them. But I believe there must be a reason for their short lives – for how many people they touched and our struggle spoke to.
Maybe that determination is simply there to strengthen our marriage – as Sam and I have drawn closer each day through this. Maybe I’ll be a different mother with Bella. Maybe it was for anyone struggling with this to see someone else go through it too. I can’t let them just go though. What we fought for. There is no greater honor as a parent than to see your child become someone to be proud of. Mine did it in a week and they never even knew.
It might be everyone’s worst nightmare, but I won’t let it be ours. They deserve more than that.