Lies, lies and more lies...

Well the operation "Have Parent's 40th Surprise Anniversary party at their house," went off better than expected.  Their Einstein daughter needs to be told NO if she ever decides to throw another surprise. Don't do it at the person's house.

It wasn't the least bit stressful. 

IT WAS SO STRESSFUL!  Trying to keep up with what I'd told who and who knew what and then I'd let something slip and had to slide to the next lie.  It was exhausting.  But the end result was worth all the stress.  My parents had a houseful of friends and family, of love and celebrating their 40 years together.  It doesn't get much more special than that.

End results, worth the stress.  The fear.  The unknown.  So the sayin goes!

Dr last week was a scary thing.  I had been told what happened with us losing both boys could have been for a few reasons.  One Dr thought it was a doomed pregnancy.  Sucks.  But with the hyperstim, the 2 draining, the huge weight gain of fluid so quickly and the swollen everything, she just thought it was a bad pregnancy.

This Dr didn't agree.  He is the dr that had a daughter who died 3 years ago.  He understood what we were going through in the hospital.  He shared a little.  The nurses shared the rest and it's just a heartbreaking thing he's lived for the past 3 years.

Sitting there, I didn't know what to expect.  I hate going back to the OB office.  It just sucks.  But I was there, Jason by my side and we talked to Dr B.  I love that man.  He's just simply amazing.  He talked a long time about his loss and how it still affects each area of his life.  How people deal differently.  How we both need to cut ourselves some slack and realize as sucky as this is, we will get pregnant again.  He firmly, wholeheartedly believes that.   He cried with us and gave something we really needed.  Hope. 

But with that good news comes unknown.  Will I have to have a cerclage to close my cervix?  Will I need to be on bed rest?  Will the frozen embryo transfer be successful if we only transfer 1?  Too many unknowns.  But he talked to us.  He cares about us.  Not just about us having a baby when we are ready but cares about us now.  He talked to Jason, man to man/grieving dad to grieving dad.  Jason needs to be ok too.  We're going to get there.  I think we both are ready to get there.

After a month of planning and scheming and mostly having my mind consumed with 1000 projects I was working on for their parties, my thought were here and there with the boys.  It felt good to not be consumed with what is missing from our lives.

Tonight we went to Longhorn for dinner to kind of unwind and relax with Mom and Dad and Sheila and Reece.  They seat us and I go to sit down and I see Sheila and Mom looking kind of anxious and trying to move me to the other side of the table before I saw what my eyes connected with.

Twin boys.  Probably 1 yr old.  Blonde hair.  Adorable.  Just chilling out, having dinner with their family, their parents.  It sucks.  Hits you out of nowhere.  We requested a table change while I was in the bathroom trying to pull it together.  And I did.  And we had dinner and talked and laughed.

I've been telling lies to try to keep a surprise for Mom and Dad.  I've also been telling myself lies.  I should have done more to protect the boys.  I shouldn't have done this.  I could have done that.  God changed his mind and decided I couldn't handle 2 babies.  Lies, lies, lies.

I want my life to be different.  I want my life to be ok again.  I want to know what it is I'm supposed to be doing and I want to do it.  I'm tired of being scared.  I'm tired of being mad.  I'm tired of being hurt.  I'm tired of not breathing, of holding my breath because sometimes it hurts too much to breath.

I miss my boys.  So much.  They were at the party with us.  But I hate that they were in their boxes, sitting in a high chair I was supposed to feed them in.  I miss them so much.

Here's some advice to people dealing with grieving parents, grandparents, siblings.  Say their names.  So few people say Tucker and Fletcher and when they do, it means the world.  It gives them back to me if only for those few seconds.  Just be present.  Nothing you can say is going to make my heart stop hurting but having you beside me makes me feel less alone.  Trust that they are doing the best they can. And even if you don't believe it, or see it, realize it's really none of your business how they are handling their grief.  If it makes you uncomfortable, love them from a distance.  They don't need your advice.  Telling a grieving couple that having a baby will help is silly. You don't know if they are able to get pregnant again.  You don't know if they are ready, or able.  But having another baby should never be based on fixing something.  Grief, broken marriage, blah blah blah.

I saw twin baby girls in the store yesterday being "mothered' by the nastiest 16 year old girl.  Nasty and mean, to babies way too young to know why she was screaming at them.  I wanted to walk up to here and offer my services.  I'd be happy to take your babies home and love them, sing to them, show them the love of Jesus.  I would be more than happy to be a mom to your babies, or even just hold them so you don't drop your cigarettes and beer.  I was so angry I couldn't see straight.

I'm mentally and physically exhausted.  Being a mom is hard.  Being a grieving mom is awful.  When you have bad days with your kids you still get to kiss them, love them, pray with them and let them know how lucky you are that God chose you to be there mom.  When I have a bad day and miss Tucker and Fletcher, I close my eyes and try to filter through all the nightmares and concentrate on the hours spent holding our sons.  I rub my tattoo.  I cry.

I don't know where I'm headed.  I know I never expected to walk in the shoes of a grieving Mother but I'm here, I'm walking, I'm wearing the shoes and I need to figure out where to go from here.  But I know I have to make time for myself. I can't worry about things like I've been doing. I can't change people. I have to take care of myself so I can take care of my family. 

I miss you Tucker.  I wish I could hold you.  Fletcher, Mommy has been wondering if you'd be tall like your Daddy.  I don't know if you grow in heaven.  I don't know much about heaven but I know I have some work to do on earth before I find out what heaven is like.  I'm doing my best boys, your Dad and I both are.

My boys.  Our sons.  Tucker Harris and Fletcher Thomas.  I saw something that 2 (parents) - 1(child that dies) equals 0. Ours doesn't equal 0, we still have some beautiful, special kids in our lives.  And I have my beautiful husband.   I've got parents that are celebrating 40 years married.

I don't know where I'm headed but I have some great people walking with me.  I'm just wearing some shoes I never wanted to wear...