Monday, January 28, 2013

I may have gotten into a fight with an old man...

In Loving Memory of 
Our Precious Boys
Fletcher and Tucker Neu
Forever In Our Hearts

This is the tree that we picked.  It's an olive tree and will bear fruit.  We get to watch it grow in a beautiful, peaceful place and it's somewhere we can go and relax.   It was planted this morning and we went down with our parents to see it tonight.  It's perfect and exactly the right thing for us.  We'll take the kids this weekend and show them as well.  

So I've been wondering if I'm ready to go back to work, am I ready to face the real world?  Stupid things are still bothering me but I try to stay away from nonsense as much as I can.  I was thinking that maybe I'm ready and the dr's are just being extra cautious by not releasing me back yet.  

I'm not.  Shouldn't be allowed out unsupervised or around anyone that I don't personally know.

We went to dinner tonight and there was a stupid couple lost.  They couldn't find the way into the restaurant, they followed us in, they followed us around to the hostess stand and then were just staring dumbly around.  I usually have a heart for people, especially old people.  These people weren't young.  The bathrooms are one seaters and it was in a narrow space.  Jason came out of the men's room, I was waiting because the ladies room was occupied and Bill went into the bathroom.  Then the idiot couple tries to walk in the 2x2 space around us to get to the bathrooms.  The lady sidesteps me to try the door, I explain that not only is it occupied I'm, in fact, in line.  She scowls.  The man is trying to get past Jason and they are doing a dance back and forth.  Jason, politely, tells him he was trying to get out.  I'm standing there and the man mutters to his wife that he was an a-hole.  I kind of turned towards him and his wife steps back behind the door and he says it again and she points her finger at me, like, hello stupid, that's her husband.  

FUMES!!  I am kind of head over heels in love with that husband of mine.  He has a very selfless love for me.  He's very protective of me.  We have had a great time together laughing and crying and talking and telling stories from our childhoods and past and have just had some very special time together, especially over the past few days.  He went down this morning to be there when the tree was planted, I decided I wanted to go when it was already done, so he explains to the groundskeeper who inquired what the tree was in memory for, that it was for our sons.  It was an emotional day.  And I'm still in the anger phase, clearly.  Add to that dumb people calling my Dad or husband a name, not gonna happen.

I said, "is that my husband you just called an a-hole or were you referring to my dad?  Because you pointed at that table and that's both my husband and Dad.  We just came from the cemetery where we saw our twin boys memorial and we are emotional maybe but they are good people and you should not assume or be rude.  So which one was it, who do you think is such the jerk??  

I was possibly kind of yelling and crying and perhaps on the edge of losing it.  The man looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die.  Sorry, not sorry.  

"Be nicer than necessary to people.  You never know what other's have just faced."  Got it.  

We had a nice meal and left.  Mom came and hooked her arm through mine.  She never does that.  Thank God she did because I stepped off the curb and twisted my ankle in my high heeled knee high boots and very nearly was faceplanted in the middle of the road.  I was close to having a "I was ran over by a horse and carriage" chapter of my life. 

Good days and bad.  I feel like "I prayed for a miracle and all I got was this stupid tree" but I'm slowly getting past the bitter.   I really do love the tree.  I just would have really loved to have walked through the beautiful, peaceful place with my boys more.

I'm blessed with a family who loves me as evidenced by 2 parents, 2 inlaws and a husband who were  ready to fight the man that made me cry at dinner.  But blessed more because we faced something we never imagined facing and it was peaceful and it was right. 

PS- Did I mention how much I love that handsome husband of mine?!

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Straight Jackets and Things that Suck

I am ready to move past the anger portion of this fun journey of grief.  Preferably before I end up in jail.

Dad is home and resting.  The stress test showed some concern, the heart cath looked good.  So I left mom in recovery waiting room to go to the dr for my follow up bc everything was fine and dad was ok.  I was driving back to the hospital which is literally across the street from my dr and I panicked.  I had this feeling like, what if everything was ok when I left and there was a horrible complication and Dad died and Mom was there by herself?  Crazy thoughts because what are the odds of that happening?  Probably about the same as being told you aren't having contractions or in labor and then being alone and delivering your baby.   Sucks that I have that point of reference.

Jason has been on the phone all day with insurance.  This is very important to know.  According to one grossly uninformed person he talked to this morning, Fletcher isn't covered by insurance because he was calling after he died to add him.  He should have, in those 90 minutes we watched our son suffocating to death, taken out his insurance card, called the company to add him to our policy. Silly us.  Sucks that stupid people are allowed to talk to grieving parents.   That's clearly not accurate and a few very sweet ladies have helped him clear up the confusion.

I was under this delusion that because I had delivered the boys and they both have birthdays that my due date wouldnt bother me.  December 13 and December 24 would be the dreaded dates.  Not May 14.


Realizing I would now be 6 months pregnant sucks.   The 24 week mark I needed so desperately to get to came and passed with no fanfare because now it doesn't matter.  Sucks.

I'm really trying to get past this angry, snarky phase.  It's not fun.  It's not me.  I got home from the hospital yesterday and once I really believed that dad would be ok, I lost it.  My stomach hurts all the time from trying to not lose it in public.  I went to Publix for Mom and Dad and the pharmacist got sarcastic with an older lady and I turned around and was staring at her thinking, how dare you speak to someone like that.  And I realized I was staring for longer than normal and was half scared I had said it outloud.

I've lost my filter.

And my ability to process or deal with stupid people, things, circumstances.

According to drs this is normal.  I have a long way to go but I am further than I was 2 weeks ago when I went.  They aren't releasing me back to work yet.  As this entire post has shown, it's probably for the best interest of me and the general population that I have limited opportunities to freak out on someone.

Always thinking ahead.

I have been overwhelmed with people's kindness.  Still and always.  As lonely as this has been at times I have so many people standing in the gaps with me it has been hard to stay down for too long.  That doesn't suck.

This is a stupid thing we are going through.  It has changed us.  The extent and depth of those changes will be shown as the healing continues.  One thing that is for sure, it has made me dumb.  Not kidding.  I say things that make no sense, I forget things I should know and I have no idea what is going on half the time.  Leave all blonde comments to yourself.  Thanks.

Rambling thoughts from a crazy lady.  Pretty much sums up how I feel lately.  But I'm still rambling and hopefully sooner than later the crazy will get less and the angry snarkiness will be replaced with sarcastic snarkiness.  Once can hope.

Blessed today because I know at this point, chances of needing a straight jacket seems less likely by the day.  Subject to change, of course.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

I'm tired, I'm worn...

I don't know that I've ever been so exhausted.  Sit and cry exhausted.  Stomach hurting exhausted.  

"I'm tired, I'm worn, my heart is heavy.  From the work it takes, to keep on breathing..."  

I had my first counselor appt yesterday.  I had put off making the appt I knew I needed because I didn't want to go tell someone the whole story.  No one but those of us who were there know the whole story, because it's too painful to talk about.  I told her.  And I didn't breathe the entire time.  She told me to breathe.  To just keep breathing.  

"I've made mistakes, I've let me hope fail.  My soul feels crushed, by the weight of this world..."  

I got out of my emotionally charged session with a therapist who understood. I didn't know this when I made the appointment with her, I didn't know until mid session, she did understand.  She is a mother who has lost 2 children.  I came out feeling better.  Until Jason told me that my Dad was in the ER with chest pains.  

"I know I need, to lift my eyes up, but I'm too weak, life just won't let up."  

I was sitting in the hospital room with my mom, waiting on my Dad to get through with his nuclear stress test when I got the text from Jason that he had picked up the ashes of our babies.  

"Let me see redemption win, let me know the struggle ends, that you can mend a heart that's frail and torn." 

We left the hospital Christmas Day with 2 memory boxes.  With our son's footprints and handprints on ceramic.  A keepsake.  We have these 2 very tiny, knitted hats that they put on our babies.  There are 2 handmade blankets that our boys laid on.  There are pictures of both of them.  This is what we were left with.  We had to fill out birth certificates.  In order to fill out their death certificates.  

"I want to know a song can rise, from the ashes of a broken life.  And all that's dead inside can be reborn, cause I"m torn."

Jason and I went to dinner last week.  I was feeling good that I was dressed and getting out of the house.  He told me to look in the rearview window at all the pollen.  I turned around in my seat to look and it hit me out of nowhere that I would never see them in their carseats in the back of my car.  I would never be driving down the street with 2 baby boys giggling and crying because they were going somewhere with me, their mom.  It crushed me.

We took the kids to St Augustine last weekend.  That was a huge step for me and I did ok.  The next day I went to the store by myself.  I drove for the first time.  I was alone for the first time in public.  It was terrifying.  I was scared to death that someone was going to ask if I was pregnant.  Or that I would run into someone who didn't know I had delivered the babies and would ask me how I was doing.  I was terrified but I was there.  Doing good because I was moving on.  I'm out.  I'm in the store.  Until I got in the car and wondered why my face was cold.  I reached up and my face was soaking wet.  I didn't even feel the tears rolling down my face that had soaked my shirt.  I'm still not sure how long they were falling.  

It's been almost a month since I had Fletcher.  Seems like a lifetime ago that my heart was broken.  I'm trying to handle this new normal that I want no part of and my Dad winds up in the hospital.  When we walked into the ER there was a lady standing by herself crying and shaking and trying to call someone on her cell phone.  We walked to my Dad's room and the room we passed to get there had someone they were working on.  Frantically. CPR, Chest compressions, chaos.  I convinced myself that the elderly lady was losing her husband in that room and I was heartbroken for her.  I asked Jason to go hug her, hold her, comfort her.  He didn't.  Luckily, because that wasn't her husband.  We walked out to get something to eat and passed another room and she was in there sitting with her son who had a broken leg.  There was an old man in a room across from dad today that was crying out for different people to come help him.  I think he had dementia and it took all I had to not just absolutely fall apart in that room, to not run in there to hug him and help him.  He was alone and needed comfort and was hurting.  Then I left and saw he had 2 nurses and his wife with him.  

My point?  Not sure there is one.  Except I'm not ok. Yet.  I'm tired.  I'm worn.  My emotions are in overdrive.  My heart is heavy.  For me, for Jason, for our parents, our family.  For people I don't know and for stories my mind makes up of pain and sorrow.  I forget to breathe sometimes and don't realize it until I let out the breathe I've been holding.  

But I know that I will be ok.  I'm grieving.  I'm not just grieving what we went through.  I'm grieving what we will never have with Tucker and with Fletcher.  We lost our babies but we also lost our 2 year olds.  Our 10 year olds.  Our teenagers...

I have hope.  And I have faith.  Both have wavered and both have angered me.  But they are still there.   I'm still angry and I'm still questioning God.  But even when I tell myself I'm too angry to pray, I catch myself praying.  When I'm too bitter to believe, I catch myself believing.  And when I feel like I have lost my will to fight, I catch myself fighting.  

Beauty will rise from my boys ashes.  I am so proud to be their mom and I know that if for no other reason, I will continue to push forward so they can know their mom wasn't a quitter.  She loved completely, she hurt deeply but she never gave up.  

I'm blessed because when I am feeling like I don't know how to feel, I hear the Tenth Avenue North song, "I'm Worn," and I know that if someone can write a song speaking to the heart of my pain and they got through it, that I will too.  And I will one day know that my ashes of hurt and heartache helped ease the pain of someone else.  Beauty will come...

Sunday, January 13, 2013

A Few of My (Least) Favorite Things...

Forgive me if I'm blunt.. I'm not trying to hurt feelings, certainly not trying to judge, just trying to get some things off my chest that seem to be laying heavy on me.

I hate cliches.  Hate.  Almost as much as I hate being copied.  But cliches make me crazy!  My ex husband had an affair with his secretary.  That made me so mad!  If you're going to cheat at least be a little more original.  Only thing worse would have been a nanny I think, which we didn't have or I would have experienced both I'm sure.

I hate jokes.  All jokes.  Please if you see me don't tell jokes.  They make me want to scream.

I hate the saying, "Everything happens for a reason."  Thanks, Captain Obvious.  My water broke prematurely and I delivered too early before my boys could survive.  That's the reason my boys aren't here.  I understand why people say this but it makes me crazy.  I know that there will be good that comes out of this but it's not the reason my boys didn't survive.  Any good that comes out of this will be in spite of the fact that my boys didn't make it.  Sometimes things happen because you make stupid choices.  Sometimes things happen that are completely out of our control and we have no idea why.  But if something happens, there was a reason.  It doesn't make my boys come back and it doesn't make it ok.

I hate the saying perception is reality.  It's not accurate.  If you look at me you may see me sad and assume I'm not moving on.  You don't see that I've gotten out of bed.  That I've eaten in a restaurant that had people I didn't know there.  That I went to the grocery store.  That when the nice man found out why were looking at a memorial site, he asked if he could know our sons names and I said them for the first time, out loud, to a stranger.  And I cried but I didn't break down.  Your perception of how I'm handling my grief does not make it my reality.  I so appreciate the people who are standing in love and prayer with us, with our family.  Who understand that grief is a process and we are moving forward as fast as we need to.  Thank you for loving us through this.

Pain is pain.  Nope.  There are different levels of pain I think.  Loss is loss.  Nope, certainly there are different levels of loss.  When you cheat on your spouse and it ends in divorce, both parties may experience pain but I can promise they are different.  If you have an abortion because you don't want your baby, you experience loss but I can promise it's far from the same as losing a baby or 2 that you prayed over, talked to and wanted more than anything.  When you alienate yourself from your family and let pride stand in the way and harden your heart, you may hurt but I can almost guarantee it pales in comparison to the pain of the people ready to move on and love as a family should.

I'm not trying to be mean.  Not trying to be judgmental.  Trust me.  I have been judged more than I could imagine through my life and that I'm being judged even now, as I am trying to grieve this loss, amazes me.  I have a short fuse for stupid minutia right now.  For things that don't matter.  For things that could easily be resolved but aren't because people can't figure out for themselves what is important in life.

A month ago today I delivered Tucker.  It was one of the worst days of my life.  The next would come 11 days later when I delivered Fletcher.  Today has been filled with a flash of constant memories that I don't want.  I can't clear my head of everything that happened surrounding his birth.  It's not a happy time.  Its a devastating time.  I'm praying my mind clears.

We found a beautiful site for a memorial for the boys.  We are getting an Olive Tree and are planting it in a beautiful, peaceful, serene spot.  It's a place we can go and think.  It's a place that we can go and watch this tree grow and bloom and prosper and produce fruit.  I think that's pretty awesome.

Everyday I feel myself getting a little bit stronger physically.  I'm able to do more.  Be out longer without wearing down as fast.  I'm healing.  And I feel like once my body feels stronger I can start mending my heart.  The ache in my stomach today has been a physically longing to hold my sons.  I know that won't ever fully go away but I imagine it wont be as constant.

I'm blessed.  Even in the midst of all this pain and confusion and hurt, I get emails everyday from someone telling me how this has affected them.  For the better.  How they have drawn closer to God through sharing our pain.  How they have started praying again, believing again, trusting again.  They have been changed, because of my boys.  My precious sons who weren't here long but were here long enough to make a difference in the hearts of a lot of people.  And as their mom, I couldn't be more proud.  I always knew they were overachievers!

Monday, January 7, 2013

Anger is part of the healing...Right?!

I've reached the anger part of the crazy.

Had a dr appt today.  Sitting in the waiting room with Jason with other couples who were there to see their babies made me angry.  Jason and I always high five when good things happen.  Saw a couple high five after I saw her cute pregnant bump and I wanted to punch her.  Anger.

There was a lady, and I use the term loosely, who apparently came to the dr on her lunch break from Wackos, checking out Jason as she mosied on over to her chair in her stripper heals and I wanted to hang her by her fake hair from the chandalier or drown her in the fountain in the middle of the waiting room.  Angry!

The nurse had to draw blood and as she was looking I realized how scarred up my arms are from my time spent in the hospital.  She stuck me once and didnt get enough blood.  She stuck me again by using a scar on my arm as a guide for where a good vein was.  And it hurt and I wanted to punch her.  Angry, angry, angry.

This is all so confusing.  I have never lost my faith in this.  I know that God is using this crap for something good.  I know that this is not the end of our story.  I know this is the beginning of something beautiful.  I really know that.  I have hope.  I am thankful for the blessings in my life.  I really honestly am.

But I am so hurt I don't know when I'll ever feel normal.  I am so empty that there is an actual ache inside.  Grieving 101 should say that you will not get over it as quickly as the world does.  I know that people don't know what to say so most say nothing.  I've been in that position.  But this is the loneliest thing I have ever been through.  I have amazing support in my husband and my parents and family.  And my faithful friends that text and message me that they don't know what to say but are praying.  I'm so thankful because I feel like I have exhausted the "please pray for this..." quota on facebook.  But I am hurting.  My milk coming in has been the most painful physical reminder.  I so looked forward to breastfeeding my boys.  I keep waiting for them to kick.  I feel like maybe it's a blessing that I never did.

I don't understand.  But I know many have faced this before and gotten through it.  I know I will too.  My body will heal and my anger will subside.  Some of that is hormones some is just emotions.  God isn't mean.  Other people are deserving.  I need to remind myself of that more often.  Kim Kardashian getting pregnant was not just to make me cry.  The lady I know who is on her 6th baby with her 5th baby daddy deserves love too.  I guess.

I read somewhere that sometimes God does things we don't see because if we can't see what He's doing then Satan can't either.  So for that I have to say, thank you God.  Because throughout my life, especially the past 2.5 years with Jason, when blessings come at us, Satan comes at us stronger.  When we have good happen, we can almost see Satan attacking us.  I need this break even if it means I don't see God working right now.  I like to think He's protecting me.

I read this too and as much as it broke my heart it speaks more than I ever could.

"Lord, I waited to hold my little ones on my lap and tell them about you.  But since I never had the chance, will you please hold them on your lap and tell them about me?"

There is comfort I have to cling to in that.  Who better than my Heavenly Father to tell my boys about me?  I know that will make for a pretty colorful bedtime story.

I'm blessed.  With tears streaming down my face and ache in my heart, I hear my parents and husband in the other room talking and I know I have never been more loved and I will get through this.  Different but ok.  I've always been different, so I know I'll be ok!!