On May and the Boys

April 10, 2014

May is weighing on me. May 3rd is the 2nd anniversary of Preston and Julian’s birth and death. It doesn’t seem possible that was two years ago and I’m sitting here with another baby gone. My greatest fear happened – again.

May 5th will be Kaden’s 9 month birthday.

May is filled with birthdays and Mother’s Day for our family. It’s also supposed to the the month Sam is gone for. Although we have no idea if that will happen.

I want to do something special on the 3rd for the boys – and I want to skip it completely. I started to pull up memories of them last night, laying in bed and thinking about how it felt to see them, hold them, marvel at how tiny they were and how human they were.

For a few minutes I just let it be about them. The grief that is often whirled into Kaden’s life now had a separate moment in my night. I cried just for them, for the little lives they never had. I didn’t even get to know them. It hurts to remember Kaden because I knew him. It hurts in a totally different way to remember Preston and Julian because I didn’t.

The grief I feel for them is mostly because I lost a life that was going to be so, so different. A mom of an almost 3 year old and identical twin boys. A mom to multiples. I’d know that journey and struggle, I’d watch them fight and bond. Even pregnant with Kaden I still missed that – I thought often about how different it was to be only pregnant with one baby. Preparing for his arrival was a lot easier to comprehend. I don’t regret letting myself feel overwhelmed and at times burdened with the thought of caring for two babies. It was part of the process of accepting and falling in love with that role. I’m just sad that was cut short.

So I think about them a lot right now. This month two years ago was incredible for me. I started working at Babble, was in my second trimester with twins, settled into El Paso, Bella was becoming a helper – and then in one swift moment it was gone. That girl laying on the bathroom floor with a towel stuffed between her legs willing herself to wake up, wake up, on the phone with 911, shaking with fear of the unknown as the ambulance took her – that girl is gone. Forever.

I miss being that person and I don’t. I wish this all had never happened, and yet I simply can’t imagine going back to that time before.

It’s so unfair that death had to change me. I wish it had been the exhaustion and need of twins that did. The struggle of raising 3 under 2 or 2 under 3.

At night when I take Charlie out, I look up at the stars from our backyard. I look at the heavens that stretch into an endless unknown and I think, “Why?” and “Are you all ok?”

I hope their little souls have the wonderful lives up there that I didn’t get to share with them here. Gosh I miss them all so much.



  • Natalie Diller

    May 28, 2014 at 1:23 pm

    I should be six months pregnant today, but I'm not. The hurt is so intense, I sometimes can't breathe. It's been two months since I've lost my sweet baby, and I still want to hide under the covers. I don't, though. I get up, go to work, and mother my precious toddler. I am Still Standing, too.

  • Annet M

    April 11, 2014 at 8:27 pm

    I am honoured to share my birthday with your twins and I will be thinking of you this year on that day.

  • Meaghan

    April 11, 2014 at 10:57 am

    Oh Diana, thank you for continuing to share your thoughts & heart with us. The milestones are hard and even sharing them with others doesn’t take the pain away. I’m praying for you now and the next month!

  • Kristin @ In Between the Piles

    April 10, 2014 at 11:51 pm

    Diana – your experience still pulls at my heart, tugs at me, makes me shake my fist at God and ask why? I was only a pray-er on the outside, but I still. don’t. understand. I thought of you today and the heartbreak you’ve experienced it. Know that you are in my prayers. I’ll be even more fervent for my prayers as we enter into May. Thank you for sharing your experience through your grief. Thank you for sharing your faith walk. Thank you for sharing your vulnerability. Your boys impacted so many people in their short lives.

  • Jennifer Eber

    April 10, 2014 at 11:12 pm

    What hit me the hardest in your post was how you said you miss Kaden because you did get a chance to know him and Preston and Julian because you didn’t. That’s how I feel about Rose and Stella. One I desperately miss because I did get to know her, and the other because I didn’t get the chance to. Hugs, friend.

  • Franchesca

    April 10, 2014 at 9:20 pm

    Diana, I had no idea. Our dates are so similar. Actually, Jenna’s 5th (would be) birthday is the fifth too. the 3rd is my “rainbow” son’s birthday~ one year to the date. As May approaches, I too am feeling more of the grief weigh on me. It ebbs and flows. Today I decided to take a trip to Port Aransas the weekend after her birthday to celebrate her life. It will be our first time down there. Anyway, I am thinking of you so much, now that I know your days are quickly approaching. I hope the next few weeks/ months are gentle on you.

    ps- (Crazy me talking) If your hubby is does happen to be away that month, I just think it would be all kinds of awesome to meet in PA and cry, fly kites, scream at the wind and watch the waves crash. Just sayin. 🙂 We’d bring Amanda Hoyt along too <3. It would be so perfect.

  • Andria Wagaman Cogley

    April 11, 2014 at 1:58 am

    Thank you for this, Diana. This Saturday will be a year since we lost Ellis at 16wks and April 26 marks 4 months since losing Truman at 20wks. This whole year will be sprinkled with dates significant to their little lives and, like you, I both want to commemorate those dates and hide under my covers. I think about you often and knowing you have been through something very similar encourages me. I see your strength and read your words, which are almost always my own thoughts. I will continue praying for you as you live and love through every memory and date.

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