Another Consult

I had an appointment yesterday with a new OB-GYN. It's a practice that was referred to me by my Peri and they have 4 doctors in the group. I met with the only female doctor there and she was maybe 30 years old. She was so great. I explained our history, every painstaking detail. And she said that she know's Dr. Davis's (who will place the TAC) work very well. So she said that he's deffinately the best person to do the procedure. She also said that she will send me off to him when I'm around 10 weeks pregnant the next time around.

I've been concerned because my period has been so weird lately. It's always between 1-2 weeks later than normal. So when I told her, she said that the first thing they look at when a woman's period is irregular is the possibility of depression. The second thing is stress. But it works hand in hand....depression because of not having a baby, stress because of not having a baby, stress trying to get pregnant, and still being depressed about no baby. She said that since I'm getting a period she is sure that I'm ovulating. But I'm still going to monitor it because I'm obsessive about it. But she assured me that after we've been trying for 3 months and it doesn't happen, she wants to look into things further and find out why it isn't happening. I'm not sure what that means, but we have a follow-up appointment at the end of March.

And as far as delivery goes, I will see all 4 doctors through my pregnancy. At the end, I'll choose the one that I feel most comfortable with to perform the c-section. If there are any problems throughout I'll get whichever doctor is on call.

So we'll see...I guess we'll start trying as soon as my period is over for this cycle. I'm going to go out and get some OPK's to start monitoring things. So we'll see....

Wish us luck!

Happy Birthday Riley

Sweet Riley, where do I begin?

You brought so much into my life when all I could see was an endless darkness. You gave me hope and joy, and you made me smile when I thought all smiles were gone forever. In so many ways, you saved me from the despair that I became.

I love you so very much, and I hope that you know that Daddy and I made the best choice that we could. This day, last year, was the most difficult day of our lives. We had to make the choice of a lifetime, and I pray everyday that we made the right choice. But I think that it's a choice that will haunt me for the rest of our lives on this earth. Perhaps I won't know until we meet again.

My Riley, your name means courage and strength. And ironically, that is what you have brought to Daddy and I. The courage to more forward and the strength to get up each morning. We miss you every day of our lives, and I wish more than anything that THIS Christmas would have been our Christmas. But it wasn't, and I'm not sure that next year will be any different. But I do know that we are together, just in a different way than most family's.

I love you my little one, never forget that. Happy Birthday in Heaven today! Share your cake with your brother, and let Mimi fuss over you. That's what she does. She loves you too, you know.

Happy Birthday sweet boy!
Love always,
Mommy

Merry Fucking Christmas

If this Christmas couldn't be any worse, I woke up this morning with a stye. You know those things...painful, swollen, and red. My eye hurts so bad, and I keep putting hot compresses on it and begging it to go down before I return to work on Wednesday. The worst part is, I think, that I haven't had a stye since like 8th grade or something. It's miserable.

I don't want to go to sleep tonight. If I go to sleep then Christmas has to come. And if Christmas comes I have to face the reality that once again I'm spending it at the cemetary instead of with my boys. I think I'm doing ok, then I realize that I have to go visit Dylan and Riley at the cemetary and it blows everything to shit.

I went today to get some balloons. One Christmas and one "Happy Birthday" because for Riley, it's both a Merry Christmas and a happy birthday. And I've been so bad...not going to the cemetary like I hope. I feel guilty, but now we live much farther away and it's just really hard. But I still feel guilty...like those are just excuses that I make to rationalize things. But anyway, the lady at the store where I got the balloons asked what type I wanted. I told her they were for children and she asked what cartoons they liked or which character was their favorite. She didn't know, obviously. And how many people really buy balloons for dead children? But it made me feel bad because I don't even know what they would like. I had no idea how to answer her. So I decided on Mickey Mouse. I like Mickey, and I know Dylan did because he and I spent so much time there early on. So I figured that Riley would too. Dylan and I had our perfect Disney memories. And I wish that I was able to take Riley too. I would do anything to take Riley.

And if things couldn't get worse, my cousin lost her second child to IC a few days ago. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers because she is in my thoughts every moment of every day. My heart breaks for her and her husband and her sweet daughter. I wish that there was something more that I could do for her except saying simply, "I know, I'm sorry that it happened to you. It sucks." The last thing that I wanted in this life was for her to become a member of this club that I'm in. It's the last thing that I want for anyone.

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On a happier note, my parents gave us our Christmas presents tonight. WE GOT A Wii!!!! I'm so excited, I had wanted one so badly and Mom happened to be at Target at the right time. She grabbed it up as they were handing one to another lady. She said that she was afraid to walk in the parking lot with it...but she stuffed it in the trunk, wrapped it in paper and then placed it in another box just in case (I know, extreme, but this is coming from the woman who won't listen to a cd that's burned because she thinks there is a tracking device in it). Derick and I just got done playing, and now he's sleeping. I took the Wii fitness training and it gives you a Wii age based on strength, agility, and stamina. My estimated age was 65! Haha! Derick wasn't much better....his was 64!

Mom says that everyone needs to have fun in life. She even had friends of friends calling her to plead their case about why they needed the Wii and would buy it from her. But she said, "Sorry...my daughter and son-in-law need this much more." Lol, gotta love Mom's! I was completely shocked because she had gotten Guitar Hero for Derick and took it back after she got the Wii.



Things are different this year, that's for sure. But Derick got a job, and he starts on Wednesday. That means we are back to trying again! So things have to start looking up. We've been at the rock bottom...so we have to continue going up. It's just not an option to go back down.

And the saga continues...

I feel like we're on an episode of Jerry Springer or Montel as the situation just keeps escilating and I don't know how to get out of the middle.

Heather and the baby were kicked out of her mother's house. She is currently living with her girlfriend, her husband, and her newborn baby. But that's only temporary.

She's decided that she needs to give the baby up for adoption. And she came over for dinner last night and told us that she is going to ask her father if he would like him first, and if he can't take care of him then she would like us to have him. Her mother, Nathaniels grandmother, is unfit to take care of him. She is good to him, however she abandoned Heather and her brother when they were toddlers. Who's to say that she won't do it again?

I told her that we would need to go through the courts and make sure everything is legal. I couldn't bare for anyone to take him away from us. And it would have to be ok with everyone involved, even my family.

Nathaniel is such a dream to have around. He laughs like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard in his life. He curls up on your chest to go to sleep, and he sucks his thumb because he's a bit insecure and he's teething. He drools more than any baby I've ever met, and can successfully ruin a nice outfit in a matter of seconds. I can't wait to have a baby in my life that when I close my eyes at night that is all I see.

When I called my mom to tell her, she was angry. Angry that I would have given my life to save my boys and Heather is just throwing up her arms because it's to much for her. She's worried that Derick and I are setting ourselves up for the biggest hurt of our lives. All of which we have considered.

Sometimes when I look into Nathaniels eyes I think he's Riley for just a split second. In my head, I know that he's not Riley. But my heart feels otherwise. Perhaps that is why I'm so torn in my decision. He will never be Riley, but it's very hard for me to understand at times. Even my mother in law said that at times she has trouble understanding that he's not her grandson. Sometimes she has to think twice that he's her nephew. He was born just 3 days after Riley's due date.

So to make a long story short, I cried myself to sleep last night. Heather's mother said that if she gave him to us that she would never speak to us again and that we didn't deserve him. Or something to that effect. It killed me because after all we've been through....we still don't deserve to have a child? Or he's just better than us? Maybe that's it. Maybe we aren't good enough to raise her grandchild. But regardless, she would fight it. And to be perfectly honest, I don't have the strength to fight it. I don't have the will to go to court and battle for my right to be a mother. I know I'm better than that. I know that I did everything I could for my sons. And I know that I would have given my life if it would have spared theirs. That I know in my heart, and I don't need to prove it to anyone. Especially not a woman who abandoned her's.

Now I don't know how to tell her that as much as we want to be a part of his life, he's better off with his grandfather. Unless, of course it comes down to him not having a home. But I would be much happier if I could spend a weekened a month with him, taking him shopping and to amusement parks, the movies, and to teach him how to play miniature golf. I would be much happier being his aunt and showing him the best part of the world, while his grandfather teaches him right from wrong and that every action has a consequence. I want him to be a huge part of my children's lives because deserves that. He deserves to have a family that loves him unconditionally. And that, to me, is the biggest job of an aunt and uncle. To love their nephew regardless of how messy his room is, how angry he gets at his parents, and how bad his grades are. That's what I want. That is the relationship that I want with Nathaniel.

Another is lost

Derick's cousin Heather had stopped talking to us. We couldn't figure out why. Until yesterday.

Apparently she didn't talk to us because she thought we wanted to take Nathaniel away from her. What? What in God's name would lead her to believe that we wanted to take him away from her? It made me feel like an awful baby-stealing freak!

So I tried to call her. No answer. We've been trying on and off to get ahold of her for weeks now about his baptism. She asked us after he was born to be his Godparents. We were so excited and it meant so much to us that we cried with joy.

Derick went over today and cornered her to talk to him. She claims that she's been busy. He asked her what we needed to do for the baptism and she told him that we were no longer Nathaniels Godparents. She's asked her friends instead.

We feel like we've lost another baby. Not that he was ours to begin with, or that he is even physically lost....but that he's gone out of our lives for good. Derick asked me to take the toys that we got him for Christmas. And he also asked that all of things that we gave her when he was born be returned. Clothes, a basinette, a boppy, toys...bottles...baby moniters...he wants them back. Nathaniel is no longer a part of our lives because his mother is to insecure with herself to even allow us to have contact with him.

What is wrong with us? Why are we not good enough? Did we do something terribly wrong or do we just not deserve to be a part of a child's life.

Poor Derick called me at work, in tears. He had such dreams for Nathaniel....fishing trips, football games, and buying him the loudest drum set that he can find.

Instead, here we are picking up the pieces of our hearts again.

Compelled to write

Today is a perfect day for writing. It's snowing outside, and just beautiful. I miss my boys terribly on days like today. I wonder if they would be catching snowflakes on their tongues.

Yesterday my Mom told me something rather suprising. Suprising, I guess, becuase I didn't think anyone else REALLY thought about us. My grandfather said something to her about Thanksgiving. He said, "How can I be happy and joyful for Alexa and the baby when I see so much pain in Becky and Derick's eyes?" He said that he's happy my cousin and her baby are coming in for Thanksgiving, but he knows that it's going to be difficult for the rest of us. It kills me that he has to know that babies die. He's such a loving, kind, generous man. And he adores all babies. But it just kills me that he lost his innocence as well.

Derick got a tattoo for the boys. When I find my camera, I'll take a picture of it! Lol! It's a cross, with blue tribal stuff in the background. At the bottom it says, "In memory of Dylan and Riley." He came home and showed it to me. Before thinking about what I was saying, I blurted out "Oh that's nice. There's even room at the bottom for the next baby." Yikes! It prompted a long talk with Derick and him trying, unsuccessfully, to get me to understand that we aren't going to loose any more babies.

Well...whatever....

How do you change a person's view on the way of life that they have become accustomed to?

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On another note, I've gotten most of my things hung up here. I attempted to do it myself last night, but after one broken drill bit and almost falling off of the step stool Derick decided he would help!

I can't believe we're home!

Last night as we were laying in bed Derick said, "We could put the bassenette here and the crib could go in the living room on the other side of the couch." I'm like, what? Are you serious? Haha, it made me feel good again to make plans about the future.

It's not going to happen

AF was 6 days late. One pregnancy test later...resulted in a very, very faint positive. Yesterday AF arrived. Heavy and strong, and not holding back. Was it indeed a BFP but it escaped before I could catch it? Or was it a result of looking at a test longer than the time window. Less than 10 mins, but still more than 3. Was it placed there just to make me wonder if we are REALLY ready? Or was it some evil trick to make me cry myself to sleep? Regardless, it was enough to do all of those things.

I am ready. I think. I want to have a child more than I want to breathe. But I'm scared. I'm scared that it's going to happen again. I'm scared that I can't take care of a child. But I'm more scared, I think, of what will happen if I don't have a child. I'm judgemental. I'm mean, bitter...angry. I'm hurt and I feel like I'm dying inside. I'm fake happy. I tell myself in my head that I have to smile now. It's a happy occasion. Even when I want to twist the neck of the person that is telling me how complete their life is with children.

I just can't take it. I cried all night last night. Derick says that we aren't ready. And he doesn't know when we'll be ready. I told him that when he says that I feel like it's going to be forever. That we aren't ever going to have children. He thinks that I'm crazy. And for a small moment, I blamed him. I blamed him for me being so unhappy. But it's not his fault. It's mine. And I can't get away from it. It will be my burden to bare for the rest of my life.

Someday we'll get there. I have no doubt. But I'm tired of waiting. I want it now.

October 15, 2007

October 15th is pregnancy and infant loss memorial day. Here's to you all and your sweet angels!

I got this poem today, maybe some of you did too.


A Pair of Shoes"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some woman are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

Author unknown

I'm heading home to light my candles, how about you?

Sweet boy

My Dear Riley,

Today was the day, last year, that we found out you were on your way. Daddy and I were beyond excited. You were our hope and our future. We loved you from the start. I would tell you stories about your brother watching over you. Daddy would rub my belly and I would get upset because I didn't want you to be overly tickelish like I am. When we had our first ultrasound, I cried. Grandma was with us. We were all so excited.

I miss you, my sweet. More than you could ever imagine. I needed you in my life so badly, and you were, just different than what I expected.

I'm sorry that I wasn't able to provide for you the way I had wanted. I hope that you were happy and comfortable inside my belly. Because you sure were loved.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. Not a second that I don't miss our talks. And believe it or not, I still imagine that I feel you kicking strong and happy. The doctor's call that phantom kicks. I don't know how long they last, but they are still going strong. And my heart skips a beat everytime I feel it.

I love you baby, more than you will ever know. Have a great day with the angels today! Be nice to your brother, and tell Mimi that I love her.

Sweet dreams,
Mommy

It's official

We've started trying.

I'm terrified, ecstatic, and nervous all at the same time! We'll see where life takes us, I guess. But I just talked to my boss, as I was nervous about telling her about the surgery. And she said that she appreciated my honesty and was glad that I told her and gave her the heads up. They will put me out on salary continuation (short-term dissability) but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Because realistically, I could already be pregnant or it could take 4 years. Who knows? So if it takes a while, it's not going to matter anyway. But I just wanted her to know where we stood. I feel happy that I talked with her.

I don't know where the next few months are going to take us. But I know that I'm onboard for the ride. There's no getting off now!

Decisions shouldn't be this hard

God willing, I will ovulate this weekend. Or at least that's how my cycle used to be.

But I'm stuck. I don't know why. These decisions shouldn't be this hard. I want more than anything to be pregnant again. But I'm so afraid that the fear is clouding my decisions. Why am I so afraid? I'm afraid that if I get pregnant again my families opinions will be flown at me quicker than I can react. I'm afraid that if I get pregnant again, I'll have an early miscarriage. And if I do make it, what about the surgery? I'm terrified of the surgery! Not so much of what's involved....more so of the pain. Which is rediculous. I would absolutely take physical pain every day for the rest of my life to avoid the pain of loosing another child. I just don't do well in hospitals. I'm scared to be there by myself. I just don't like them. I feel like everytime I go into one, someone dies. And it's a feeling that I just can't get rid of.


I went to the doctor today because I've been feeling like shit. I thought I had the flu, or something like it. Turns out that it's just a God awful sinus infection. I had to get antibiodics. And right on the label it says not to take if I'm pregnant or thinking of becoming pregnant. Great. I should have mentioned that to the Doc. But I wasn't thinking, I guess. Do you think I'm safe to take it? The chances of it happening on the first try are slim. I'm deffinately not expecting it. Although for whatever reason, I have a history of getting pregnant while being very sick. With Dylan I had Pneumonia.

Well anyway...on the upside of things I bought the Knifty Knitter. I saw someone at the airport with it last weekend and I knew that I needed to get it. It's fantastic!! I already knitted a scarf and it only took me about 3 hours. So I bought some new baby yarn. I had some stuff left over from Riley's blanket, but I explained to Derick that was for him. Dylan's is burried with him, he was rapped in it. But I haven't been able to pick up Riley's blanket since last winter. I just can't do it. So I'm determined to finish this whole blanket....and USE IT for our baby. It's going to be great! I'll post pictures when I'm done : )

I think I've made up my mind

Last night my mom, her twin sister, and I went out to eat. I was so down. I've had such a dissapointing week that when things like this happen, I become very, very low. I've been taking my Zoloft almost every day for a week now because I'm so stressed out and anxious. I feel the anxiety building and it's unnerving.

So anyway, we dropped off my aunt and stopped over at my Grandfather's house. My Pop has always been a signifigant person in my life. He's just an amazing man. Always able to look for the positive in a really bad situation. He's not very good with words, but what he says and how he relates things make sense in a really weird way....he loves to joke with us, give us advice, and he was there for me when we lost both of the boys. He sobbed with us, prayed with us, and even led the Our Father at both of their funerals.

He mentioned while we were there that he got a card from my cousin, Lex. She gave birth to her little girl on August 19th and named her Olivia. But at Lex's baby shower, she made a BIG point to go on and on about how Olivia was the first great-grandchild and I literally wanted to puke. I was so disgusted and hurt that she forgot. In the card from Lex, he said that she thanked him and went on to say that she wishes that our grandmother were here to hold her and see her. Then he said that my aunt is going to parade the baby all around at Thanksgiving when they come home and that she wants a 4 generation picture. My aunt is very understanding, and she's really great...but she doesn't truly get it. And it's not that she hasn't tried, but it's impossible to understand unless you've been there.

When we got home, it hit me. I need to try for a baby now. I'm nervous about it, and scared about it...but I'm also excited about it. I need this. I'm afraid that Pop won't be around to see my child if I wait. And I know that sounds rediculous, but I really want him to see our child living and breathing and laughing instead of so much sadness surrounding me. I know that other's have their opinions. And I know that we still have a lot of work to do on our lives. But we won't ever be ready. We will never be completely out of debt, we won't ever be completely secure in our jobs or in our lives....but the only true happiness that we have is another child. And that's what we need right now more than ever. The living situation and the debt situations will work themselves out. They always do. We've handled the worst thing that could happen to parents, twice. We can most certainly handle this.

The Consult

I appologize to all who care about my lack of information on my appointment! I've been so busy with work and such that I didn't even have time to update over the weekend!!

The appointment went amazingly well...

I was so nervous that I made myself physically ill in the hours leading up to it. When we got there, he greeted us warmly and made us feel like he understood why we were there. He explained the procedure and said that given the information that we knew with Dylan he would have proceeded with Riley's pregnancy the same as my regular OB did. That was comforting. He also said that he has a very high success rate, even with a history of PROM. He said that he did a study on women with a history of PROM, 3 of 4 carried to term with the TAC with no problems. One PROM'd at 18w but since the TAC was so tight it didn't allow the water to leak so she carried until 32 weeks and that child is now just over a year old. Along the same lines of the TAC being so tight, it does not allow infection to set in. Not that it couldn't, but in the 20 years he has been performing this operation he has not seen any problems.

Then he did the ultrasound. It showed that pre-pregnancy my cervix measures just around 2cm. The 'average' cervix is usually between 5-6cm and they consider 3 to be short. Granted, there are many women that have no cervix at all...so I'm a bit better off than them. However, he was able to put his finger through my cervix almost into my utuerus. That was worrisome...either it didn't close completely after delivery or it was never closed to begin with. We probably won't ever know. Probably has never closed after delivery. He said that knowing that he would prefer to place the stitch around 10w instead of the regular 12-13w. Not just because it's short, but leaving it open could let in a major infection...not just for a growing fetus but for me as well.

He is very, very confident that I will be able to carry not just one, but as many pregnancies as I want with the TAC in place!!

Derick and I over the moon ecstatic!! Now it's onto deciding when a good time to start trying is. Of course everyone in our lives has their own opinions and they aren't shy about voicing them. Particularly my family. So when we straighten out OUR lives we are going to move forward. We hope to be straight by November or December : )

A few more months...

Derick and I had a chat last night. I was complaining how the birth control screws up my cycles so much that I don't even know when to expect AF. He told me that I didn't have to take it anymore if I did't want to. What?! He said for the 3 times that we have sex a month we can use other alternatives !!

But it's only for August...one month and 10 days until we can try again! One more month and 10 days until I'm actually doing something.

And only one month and 10 days until I'm petrified, irrational, and fearful of every cramp, ache, twinge, lack of naseau, lack of breast aches...yikes...when I write it all out I wonder why I would ever want to go through that again. The lack of control, the unknowing, the constant worry, fear, unanswered prayers...

Why would anyone put themselves through that? Simple. Because I need to have a child more than I need to breathe. I can't even begin to imagine what it is like to hold my own child to my heart and listen to him cry. Or watch him squirm and giggle...it must be the most incredible feeling in the world.

Only a few more months and this will be all over...this relentless worry...it will all be in vain. And this time, next year, God will bless us with a baby. And if it happens to be that it is not a child of my own womb, it will be a child of my own heart. The very baby that I've been wating rather impatiently for. Impatient only because I have so much love to give.

Am I moving forward?

I wonder if I am making any progress. Some days I feel like I really am, and then others, like today, all I can think about is the boys. What would they be doing? Dylan would be talking and eating solid foods. Riley would be crawling around after Lilo on the floor.

I wonder if I'm not moving forward the way I should not because of grief, but because of the trauma that I experienced both physically and emotionally. Is it just to much for me to handle? When I had Dylan, I nearly died. That was huge physicall trauma. When I had Riley, I lost all of the faith that I had in ANYTHING. I lost the faith that I had in myself, in life, in my doctors, in the medical field in general...everything, it seems, except for my faith in God. When I thought that all was lost, He was the only thing that I clung to. Mostly because I didn't have anything left. When Dylan was born, I shunned him wondering how he could do this to me. But with Riley, it was different. I didn't have anything else left except for Him.

Is it possible to be so traumatized that a person wouldn't want to move on in their life? Because I feel as though I'm griefed out. I miss the boys every second of every day, but I understand that they are there and I am here. I understand that things will never be the same again. Yet the fear of the past, the emotional and the pysical trauma, are keeping me from moving forward. That fear is what keeps me from being able to be positive about another baby. That fear is what is holding me back. How do I get past something like that to move on?

Don't you need to be a Mom to wear a mother's ring?

Derick bought me a beautiful ring for Mother's Day. We finally picked it up on Friday. It's white gold with Dylan, Riley's, and Derick's birthstones on it. They are marquis cut, seperated by diamonds. I adore it!

I wore it to work today and proudly showed everyone around me. Heading to the bathroom, I ran into another girl at work that knows 'our' story. When I showed her, she said "Don't you have to be a Mom to wear a mother's ring?" I felt my face turn red. I muttered, "It's for the boys." and I walked away. She immediately felt bad. I knew she did because I could see it in her face. But I felt bad. It made me feel stupid. Maybe I shouldn't be wearing a mother's ring. But it's beautiful and I love it. I want to wear it. And when people ask about it, I will tell them why I'm wearing it. It's for my boys. I AM a mother.

Two down

Two babies were born within 10 days. I'm in overload...

Derick's cousin, Heather, went into labor on June 13th. Her son, Nathaniel Alexander weighed 7lbs 9oz and was born on the 14th. Just three days after Riley should have been born. I wonder often if Riley would have been born the same time...it would have been fun for cousins to share the same birthday. It just should have been different. Things should have been so different...

Friday my sister in law called from Florida on vacation. Her sister, due at the end of August was having some problems and they admitted her to the hospital. Her son, Landon Jacob was born via c-section on Friday weighing 4lbs 6oz and very healthy at only 32 weeks.

Suprisingly...I'm ok. When I hold Nathaniel I feel a this connection with him that I can't explain. I feel like I have an outlet for those primal urges that I didn't have before. It's refreshing. But it makes me want to have another baby so much more. I long for the feeling of life inside me.

Sondra, probably the only person in my life that understands. She understands if I don't feel like talking or if I don't answer the phone or call her back right away. She understands when I need to talk, when I'm happy, scared, or just sad. She celebrates with me when things go well, and cries with me when things don't. She called me today to tell me that she was expecting again in January. I'm truly happy for her, and although I still think about the boys...I'm more bummed out that I can't be pregnant with her right now! I know that the time will come, and we will be...but that's October!! It seems like so far away. It seems like in the next 3 months....yes, only 3 months....things will completely change and something will happen and we'll be pushed back another 3 months or something. I feel like in only 3 months things could blow up in my face again and we'll be back where we started. So I would rather start now and avoid the possibilities of everything falling apart.

It also doesn't help that my period has been so screwed up. It seems like almost monthly, even though I'm on birth control, my period is off by a few days. I get my hopes up, even though I know it's virtually impossible, and I'm let down when it comes. It's a horrible game that I play wiht myself. It's just neverending.

Cruel Irony

Perhaps the most cruelest irony in life is the ability to take care of a child, but without actually having a child.

I say this because upon looking at a baby shower registry today, I came across the oddest things for a newborn baby shower. Granted this is her first child...but I was unaware that newborns needed silverware. Yes, you read correctly. A fork and a knife.

I was under the impression, maybe it's misguided, but I was under the impression that children...babies...can't even grasp their hands around things like silverware until they are toddlers or even later. This coming from the same girl who intended on buying shorts for her baby due in August. Shorts. NEWBORNS DON'T WEAR SHORTS!

Sorry...the yelling is done...

But the point is that I am sitting here dreaming of a child someday. A child that might not even be mine, but that I will love with all of my heart. And she is there dressing her child in shorts and teaching him to use silverware.

In other news...

Dr. Davis called me last night. I have an appointment with him in September for a consult on the abdominal cerclage. It's pretty exciting! He did say that since we know that my cervix is incompetent, he wants to know what's making it incompetent. The best that my regular OB could tell from doing the vaginal cerclage is that my bladder is misproportioned (much like the rest of me!). But maybe there is something to be done otherwise. I was very impressed, as was Derick. And I can't wait until September. We have to go to Philadelphia...or Camden, NJ actually. But it will be so worth it. He said that he will do multiple ultrasounds and tests while I am there to see exactly how incompetent my cervix is and get measurements while I'm not pregnant.

Derick and I also came to an agreement about trying again. Shortly after his teenage cousin showed up from college 8 months pregnant, we discussed when we would try again. We both agreed that as long as we had things worked out with the doct0r (accomplished) and that we are in our own aparemtent (almost there) we can try again in October! I'm so excited! I feel pretty confident, although still slightly hopeless. I've come to realize though that those feelings of hopelessness might not ever go away.

We also had discussed my ill feelings towards baby showers. I decided that I would rather have a welcome baby shower. Derick agreed. He thinks it would be to much for everyone involved to have a regular baby shower. Although I would be lying if I said that I didn't feel cheated. Blah. I hate these feelings.

When I think about myself at this time last year, it's scary how far I've come. This time last year I couldn't function like a normal person. I cried and screamed and sobbed all night long. I clutched onto Derick in fear that I would loose him too. And now...now I'm different. Not a bad different, I guess. But so different. In fact, I just read in someone else's blog about the song "The Dance" by Garth Brooks. The line that goes something like "If I'd have known all the pain, the way it all would go...would I have missed the Dance?" And I do think a lot about if I had known the pain, would I have even gotten pregnant? Would I have rather loved and lost than not loved at all? Would I rather struggle with infertility then not be able to carry a child? A very good friend of mine is struggling with this currently...and when I talk to her I always wonder...would I rather struggle with what she is dealing with or struggle with this? My answer is that I would probably rather have infertility problems. But I bet if I asked her, she would rather have a baby for a short time. It's interesting. I guess that's where all of these cruel ironies come in to play. Both come with their own sense of pain and grief, and esentially there are ways (albeit expensive ways) to have a child...and all could probably be 'cured' through surrogacy and adoption...I think that had I known the way things would turn out, I would honestly not have had Dylan in the first place. Although I still would have went to see Dr. Davis and gotten the abdominal cerclage in the begining! But my boys are my world. I live and breathe for them because they wouldn't want it any other way. And someday, when I look into the eyes of my newborn baby, I'm going to wonder what I would have done without those sweet baby eyes staring back at me.

Dylans 1st Birthday

My Sweet Darling,

I cannot believe that one whole year has passed since I kissed you last, held your tiny fingers, and stared in amazement at your tiny toes. I'm sure that you are having an incredible birthday in Heaven, and I can only begin to imagine what that is like.

Daddy and I were talking tonight, and I told him that I don't even remember how we made it through this past year. It came with so much pain, but an incredible amount of love. Love that I didn't think was possible until I met you.

When I think of the short 17 weeks that I had with you, it doesn't seem long enough to have forged such a bond. One that will carry with me through the rest of my life and on into another life. You are my baby, my son. And absolutely nothing could change that.

I have learned so much in the past year. Lessons that I didn't think I would need to learn so young. But I did. And I grew strong. One year ago today I didn't think I would survive this. Yet here I am...proudly telling everyone that will listen the story of my angels. How two very short lives changed my life so profoundly.

Perhaps someday I will 'see' the big picture in all of this. Perhaps there is some grand scheme and I'm just waiting for it to unfold. But I can only pray that you will come back to me someday. Because I miss you so much more than I can put into words. My heart still and always will ache for you to be near.

I hope you are having a wonderful birthday up in heaven. I can't begin to imagine what your cake tastes like or how magnificent the gifts are. But please know the gifts that you have given me are more than you could ever believe.

I love you with my whole heart and soul,
Mommy

I did it

So I did it....I sent Lex an email....here's what I wrote....


Hi!

I have sat down so many times to write an email.

I'm so happy to hear that things are going so well for you and your little girl. I pray for you both every night. I know that it's not easy to be experiencing all these things so far away. Especially for your mom! But your doing great!

I honestly haven't known what to say. I'm so conflicted because I'm so happy for you and Jim, but I'm so sad for myself. I wish that I could have been there for you more in the begining...when everything is so scary and new. But I didn't know how to be because I was dealing with so much that I couldn't even be there for you! I'm so sorry for that!

I'm sure that you don't remember this, but at Cappelletti's you were the only person who said anything to me about Dylan. I wanted so desperately for people to ask me. To say something...anything...and you did. It's something that I will never forget. It meant more to me than you could have ever imagined. I feel like sometimes it's the elephant in the room that everyone is trying to avoid. I wanted people to ask me about his birth, or acknowledge that he existed, or to acknowledge that in every way physically...I was a mother. And you did that for me. What you said wasn't a lot, but it meant the world to me.

And the funniest thing is that when Aunt Annie told me you were going to name the baby Alexander (when they thought it was a boy!), Derick and I had decided shortly before Thanksgiving that the baby, if it was a boy, would be named Alexander. When we found out how things were going to work out, and he was a boy, we decided on Riley James so that he had his own name. So when Aunt Annie told me, Mom and I laughed a little, and then when we found out it was a girl...we laughed a lot because Pop was so excited. I think he think's he's cursed with all girls! But I guess great minds think alike!

Well anyhow....I just really wanted to write and see how you were doing. Mom said that you have been seeing a Perinatologist and I wanted to let you know that if you had any questions I've done the research. And if you have general questions, I can answer them too. Although I haven't been that far along...I was 17 weeks with Dylan and just 16 with Riley...I've read ALL the books! Lol!

Oh, and by the way....when the time comes for me...God willing...I'm going to need help making it through the end of the second and third trimesters! I'm going to rely on you to answer my dumb questions! Ok...and really if the time never comes...and I end up with Japanese kids (Derick says we are going to adopt from Japan because they are much smarter than our own biological kid could be) I'll need help getting them to sleep through the night. And since you've already been there....lol! My mom and your mom are great, but they were pregnant with newborns almost 30 years ago!

Ok, well I gotta go and get to bed. I'm working now in Fogelsville so I got a commute and with traffic I gotta get up early. You and I both know that I don't get up well.

Talk to you soon,
Lots of love!Becky

P.S. what are you going to name her?


That's nice...right? My therapist thinks it will do me some good. And I think that it did too.

So here we are....

What a horrible weekend. My brother and SIL came over on Saturday morning. She was in a mood, but he was happy to help Mom with some things around the house. I got held up getting some errands done, so I ended up going with mom to drop my cousin off at school for a function. His mother is the one with cancer.

Anyhow, we picked him back up from school but stopped off at home to let Lilo out. The mail had arrived. Sitting on the front steps were free samples. From the sidewalk all I could make out was the free razor. Under the free razor was the tiny Huggies sample that they send to all mother's nearing birth. There were coupons galore, lotions, and wipes. Begin panick attack.

I grabbed the mail, walked into the kitchen, and sorted through it. There was an envelope, with my name, from my SIL. I opened it, somewhat happily, until I saw what it was. A baby shower invitation. For HER sister. To begin with, I didn't think I would be invited. And you would have thought, since I told her that I can't do baby showers, that she would have understood and at the very least said something to me that morning. And if not me, she could have warned Derick. I was devestated. I through it in my mom's lap and yelled, "How could she do this to me?" Then I proceeded up the steps, into my room, and the full blown panick started.

I called Derick and he was on his way home from work. Mom intercepted at the front steps and explained that it was a bad day. He came in, asked me to take my pill, and then he listened to me talk. I was doing ok. Really, I was.

Until the third part of my panick began.

Brother and SIL came over again later that night so that Derick could help him with a few things. My mom and I had gone to a few yardsales in between dropping off Dan and picking him up. We came across a brand new infant tub for $2, baby t-shirts, and a fisher price toy for $2. It didn't occur to me that they wouldn't be bought for my baby...someday. Until SIL showed up and mom passed them on to her to give to her sister. I wanted to scream, "Those are for MY BABY!!!" But I couldn't because I don't have a baby.

Mom went upstairs and came back down with a bunch of brand new baby clothes. They were Riley's. My son's. THEY BELONG TO HIM! SIL went on and on about how cute they were and how cute they would look on him. One in particular that I had gotten for Riley was a halloween one with candy corn and it said, 'I love my Mummy.' After he was born I would go into the closet and touch it. I felt close to him. The close belong to him. But Mom gave them away.

Luckily, I guess, SIL forgot them at the house and I offered to buy her new ones to replace Riley's. I explained to Mom that I needed them. She thought that it was to difficult for them to be around for me, so it's not like she did that on purpose. But I needed them. I needed to know that they were his clothes. His belongings. That he really did exist....the only physical proof that I had. Mom said that she would buy me new ones. I told her I didn't want new ones. If I couldn't have those, I didn't want any.

This morning all the clothes were on the table but the Halloween one. That's the one I desperately wanted. The rest weren't special....but that one...I close my eyes and see his tiny feet kicking in them.

What a crappy weekend.

Family

Pop's 80th birthday party is rapidly approaching. It's being held in July. I'm worried already.

Since the last time I have seen the majority of my family, pregnancies have been announced and babies have been born. I'm starting to feel a bit resentful of things. I hate this feeling. How come their babies are here safely and alive? Are they going to ask me about it or just brush it under the rug? Or are they pregnant and just as afraid to talk to me as I am to talk to them?

What happens when an otherwise close family gets this wedge placed between them?

It's the big elephant in the room. Everyone sees it, but no one wants to talk about it. No one wants to hear that my babies died, although I want desperately to tell them about it. No one asks what they looked like, but I want so desperately to show them their pictures. And no one even asks what their names are, but they are my sons.

Are they afraid to upset me? That's not the case. I can talk about things much more freely than I have ever before. Are they afraid to bring things up because they don't want to admit that babies do die? As if admitting that babies die would somehow jinx their own family. Are they happier believing that bad things happen to people who deserve it? Maybe. But if that's what they think of me than I don't need them in my life anyway.

The bottom line is that they are still blissful. Death hasn't touched them. They don't feel as if a black flag is hovering over their home as it is mine. They are innocent. Believing that babies don't get sick and babies don't die. Yet that isn't even close to being true. Because if it were, I would have a complete family. Not a heart with holes in it.

So my question is this....how do I get past that resentment to be able to embrace the new children and be happy for their families? Obviously it's not something that will happen overnight, so I need to start preparing myself now. Start working through these things. It's not something that I want to pass along to my children. I don't want them to live their lives with a mother who is still emotionally hung up on the fairness of life and the impact that it has had on my life. I don't want to be their burden because I can't take care of myself. I don't want to be Derick's burden because he got stuck with a wife who can't carry a child. He was cheated out of the family that he deserves. My body is MY burden. But I need to learn to deal with that now because if I let it go, it will fester and ferment and in 10 years I will still be harboring these feelings and it's liable to tear my family apart.

Two more weeks

I can't believe that in two weeks a whole year will have passed since I held Dylan last. When he was born I inspected his face. Perfect. Tiny ears and a tiny nose...a tiny chin and tiny lips. I'm afraid that I'm forgetting what he looked like. How can I forget? It makes me sad to think about, but I know that it's inevitable. It happens as life moves on. But a mother isn't supposed to forget the face of her firstborn. It happens, I guess, in the process of life, but knowing that in advance doesn't ease the feeling.

I find myself thinking about how we are going to spend his birthday and those thoughts lead to tears each time. Desperate, crippling tears...the sort that lead to long sobs and a racing heart.

Derick and I spoke about it today. I'm having trouble talking about it. We both thought it would be best to take the day off, so we did. We think that we will go to the cemetary in the morning with Birthday balloons and a note to send off to heaven. I'm so sad to think of him spending his first birthday in a place without his parents. After the balloons...we are drawing a blank. It has to be something special and perfect. But there aren't any books on how to celebrate your dead child's first birthday. For some reason, no one wrote a manual on that. And yet it seems to be the single most painful event in a parent's life following the death of their child at any age.

I get frustrated, at times, because Derick seems to not want to talk about things. Or not that he doesn't want to talk about them, but he feels that if he does it's going to make me sad or cry so he avoids it. And when I bring it up, he changes the subject quickly. It's a routine that he's fallen into. And I don't know how to get him out of it. I hate it though. I want him to talk to me about things. I want to hear what he says, I want to be able to cry. Sadly, the routine that I've fallen into consists of crying in silence in private. I'm afraid to cry about most things these days...things not even related to the boys. I'm just feeling very alone in my grief lately and I want him to be able to chat with me and listen, not just hear, what I have to say.

I started a journal. It's a special one that I found with the word 'Hope' on the cover. I've started writing to my future children. If that makes sense. It's a way for me to share with them my feelings, my grief, the love that I have for them already, and the love that I share with their father. It makes me feel good to be doing something beneficial in the world of a mother...plus it will be good reading when they are adults! Hahah!

Cancer?!

My beloved Aunt, my dad's sister, was diagnosed with cancer on Thursday at the age of 50. They thought it was a small tumor, located in her colon. But upon further testing, they found it in her liver. She met with the oncologist on Friday, and they opted to start chemo right away instead of waiting until they remove the tumors.

The two of us were like two peas in a pod. My dad would say when I was growing up, "Ah! You sound just like my sister!" and when she met me for the first time she held me in her arms and said to my mom, "She's so beautiful! I cannot imagine having a little girl this beautiful, it's only something that I can hope for." Or so says my Mom. We always had a lot in common, very similar personalities. Although the personality traits that we have in common are not those that are favorable by others. We are stubborn, independent, strong, opinionated, often say what we think before thinking, we aren't the best housekeepers...but people love us anyway. I think back, and I wonder how I would have made it through the last year without being stubborn, indepenedent, and strong? Those are the very things that are going to help her get through this challenge.

I want to write her a note, I want to visit her or send a card. But she doesn't want to see anyone just yet. I can understand that. She has three children of her own and a husband that's devoted to her. But in my note, I would like to write that...although the circumstances of my life, particularly last year can't compare to what she is facing, they were both challenges. Things that we had to overcome, a game along the path of life. She will face this challenge head on, and there will be two things she can do. Turn and run in fear, or stay and fight. Fight with all of the stubborness, strength, and independence that the blood running through our veins allows us. It's Clinchy blood, after all. Blood that's thick with those things, but mostly strength. My grandmother is a strong woman almost to the point of being cruel or cold or unemotional, her mother was the same way...although sometimes downright nasty to people she was close to. Thankfully, those things have filtered down through the generations, but there are still traces from time to time. Both my aunt and I posess them, it's just finding the will to bring them out...the will to stand and fight instead of running away screaming.

It's particularly hard for me to have faith in this situation for many reasons. First, I had faith that things would be ok with Dylan and Riley and they weren't. And second, my grandmother died 12 years ago from cancer that started in her pancrias and spread into her liver. The loss of her had a profound effect on my life. I spiraled into a depression that lasted many years partly because of that. It wasn't until I went to Florida that I started to be able to accept the loss of her. I was only 12 years old, but it was a big turning point in my life. One that I will never forget. She was so young, only 68, with 10 grandchildren and another on the way. We worshiped her. We each had a special, different, unique relationship with her. Her and I, we shopped. We played dress up, and she gave me all of her glitzy, old, shoes and fashion jewlery. She painted my nails, and yelled when my grandfather would pull candy out of our ears, "Oh Al, they can't eat candy that's been in their ears!" When he fell asleep in his chair, we would sneak over to him and try to pry the remote out of his fingers before he woke up. She was the leader of our games and our tricks. She gave us the details, and we had to figure out how to acomplish things.

The last time we shopped was for ski pants. I found a magnificent pair of purple ski pants. I adored them. So she sent me into the fitting room, I put them on, and I came out. She knealed down in the middle of the sports store, tugging here and there, then she said the words that no one wants to hear from their grandmother, "Do they fit ok in the crotch?"

The last time I saw her she was in the hospital, feeling better. I thought she was doing better and she would be home soon. I had no idea that it would be the last time that I saw her. She spoke to us, telling us each something special, yelled at my grandfather once more for pulling candy out of our ears, and sent us on our ways with a special I love you.

Three days later she died.

Is it going to be the same with Aunt Deb? Or are things never going to be the same again? Sometimes I think that I would do anything to go back to the way things were. The happiness that we shared at our wedding with everyone close to us there. People were alive and well, happy, smiling. Now it seems as though we have a dark cloud hanging over us. One that we can't shake, can't run from, and it haunts us. But if I went back to that, I wouldn't have had Dylan and Riley. I would not have experienced the things that I did last year, even if they were filled with so much grief at times.

Well...the bottom line I guess is that things can change second by second. Derick and I learned the lesson the hard way last year. It seems as though everyone else is learning the hard way too. Now, of all times, I don't know what to say to her. Or if I should say anything at all. Should I do anymore than hold her hand and hug her when she needs a hug? I don't know. I just don't know.

Need to update...

I guess it's really been a while since I've written anything here. Not that I haven't thought of it, but I just have been in a funk.

It's April. I've got two babies, but none of them are with me. It's April, and in the next two months I have four very signifigant milestones to get through. The first being Dylan's 1st birthday. I feel my chest get tight everytime I think of it. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes and my throat start to close. How am I going to make it through the day? The second, of course, being Mother's Day. Derick is trying his hardest to make things bearable for me. He ordered me the mother's ring that I had been eyeing. It's really nice, and we are both happy. After mother's day comes Riley's due date. June 11th. Here comes the throat tightening again. And the fourth, and final 'milestone' being Father's day. I have no idea what to get or do for Derick.

The song, Wake Me Up When September Ends reminds me of how I feel. Wake me up when June ends.

Easter wasn't so great. I cooked and stayed home. It was the first holiday without either of my babies, and I spent all last week grieving for the lost Easter Egg Hunts. It was bad. The pain of not having them with me is so strong right now. And to top it off, I have this horrible, nagging feeling that there is something that is missing in my life...and they are trying to show me or tell me what it is. I feel them with me more often than not these days. Maybe they are just comforting me, but sometimes I am hardly awake in the morning and I hear the words, "Derick! Do you feel them?" come out of my mouth. Nothing like feeling like you've gone over the deep end on top of everything else. But I just couldn't go anywhere. I couldn't go to Aunt A's and listen to them go on and on about Lex. I just couldn't do it. So instead of making things uncomfortable for them, I removed myself from the situation. Thus alienating myself even more. The very thing that I've been trying to avoid.

But I did go to Aunt A's tonight. She has been so very compassionate to me. She's always there to listen and to chat with. She went on to say that Lex's doctors are a little concerned about her cervix. They have discussed the options of cervical intervention, but she's not sure yet. She's about 17 or 18 weeks pregnant. A lot could change quickly at this point. I know...I live it. She also mentioned that she's going to name him Alexander Burke. Alexander is my grandfather's name. Derick and I had talked about naming Riley that. Well Alexander at least. I really wanted to, but we wanted a name that would be just his since we knew what the outcome would be. I'm dying inside. God I'm dying. Alexander was my name. My baby was supposed to be named after him. They act like her son is the first great-grandchild. He's not. There are two others, don't they remember? Don't they remember the source of my broken heart? How could they forget? How could she name him Alexander? Doesn't she know how much that hurts me?

It's not her fault, I know that. But God I'm dying. I think a piece of me dies a little each day. Someday I'm just going to be a shell. The shell of a person that they used to know...that used to have life and a smile. This is going to kill me. Maybe not physically, but emotionally I think I'm going to die.

This fear that I have is so powerful. It's debilitating and paralyzing. It pushes me down, and even when I fight to stand up again...I'm just not that strong.

Out of body experience?

I'm pretty sure I had an out of body experience last night.

I was laying in bed, almost alseep. I could feel myself moving. I grasped onto the sheets and blankets so that I would stay put. But I couldn't move.

I saw Dylan and Riley in a nursery. But it wasn't Dylan and Riley as I know them. They were shimmering swirls of clouds, one a little bigger than the other. I tried to yell for Derick, Can you see them? They are here to see us! They're here! But I couldn't yell or move or anything. I stopped to look at the mobile hanging from the ceiling. It was amazingly beautiful. Planets and stars and moons hanging from the silvery strands and shimmering. I tried to look into the crib, I was a little afraid, but so excited to see Dylan and Riley. When I turned to look inside, I heard someone say "She can't do it. She's not ready."

Then I was back in my bed, just able to move and speak again.

What the heck does that mean? It seems so signifigant, but I either can't see the signifigance of it or I don't want to see the signifigance of it. Does it mean that I'm not ready to have another child? I feel that I am. I really do. Does it mean that I'm just not ready to face what was inside the crib? Maybe. But what could have been inside the crib? Why were Dylan and Riley calling to me? What did they need or what did they want to show me?

The swirly clouds must have been their little souls. I can't believe they found me. I was their mother, a real mother, for that short time. I wish that I had told them how much I loved them. I do everyday, but it would have been nice to tell them at that moment. They must know though because otherwise I don't think they would have been there. I was so excited. I wanted Derick to come so badly. I wanted Derick to see them like I did. He was a little dissapointed, I think, because he hasn't seen them yet. I saw Dylan after we first lost him, but not Riley. It was the first time, and deffinately the most real.

I've felt them around me before. Sometimes when I'm about to drift off to sleep I open my eyes and I swear I see them. The same way though, little white clouds. I have never known if it was them or if I was just seeing a trick of the moonlight. Maybe it is them. They must be with me more often than I have thought. They guide me through everything that I do.

Great. Now I feel like I'm lumped in with the people who've been abduted by aliens. Now I'm the girl who sees dead babies.

Strangely enough, and I'm genuinely afraid to say anything, but my period is due tomorrow and I don't feel any normal signs that I'm getting it. It would be impossible to be pregnant though, we've always used condoms. I know that they don't always work, but the chances are very slim. I'm not going to get my hopes up. It's not a good time, I know. Derick and I already went over this once today. It's not a good time. But we could make it work if it happened. I know that we could. We would be ok. Maybe that's what they were trying to show me.

We will be ok.

Dissapointed in myself

I'm dissapointed in myself. I had to break down and return to taking my Zoloft. I was doing so well. Or I thought so at least. But this week has just put me through the wringer.

I know that grief comes in waves. I know that the worst, darkest months I had after Dylan died were in July, August, and September. I'm at the same point after Riley's death. It's been almost 3 months. Three excrutiatingly long months. I feel like I'm back to bargaining again. I would do anything to have Riley here with me. God, I would do anything. But there is nothing that can be done. There is absolutely nothing that I can do to have either of my boys back with me. I have to accept that, and most times I do...it's just so hard when things are so dark.

Derick and I came to a mutual agreement that it's best to start taking the Zoloft again. I cried myself to sleep almost every day this week. I feel better, but I had hoped I could start to wean myself off of it. Derick says that even though I am strong and rediculously stubborn, sometimes I have to give in because I can't fight it all. He's right, I know it. But I'm still dissapointed.

Shitty day, shitty week

I know this week is always hard for me...under normal circumstances. I should have been more prepared. On the 18th it is the 12 year anniversary of the death of my beloved grandmother. St. Patricks day was her absolute favorite holiday and I can't even decorate for it anymore let alone celebrate it. Not since she died, at least. So I dread the holiday coming up too.

I found out today that Lex is having a boy. A boy. Why couldn't she have a girl? Why a boy? Doesn't God know how much that hurts me? Doesn't he know that I've been crying all day because of it? Mom said that she went to see a Peri yesterday about her cervix. Her OB is concerned. Great. Now I'm terrified on top of being so hurt. I know that she's past the point of a preventative cerclage. Rescue cerclages don't work that often. And she's possibly facing a long time of bedrest. I asked my aunt her cervix meassurement...she said she didn't know but she wasn't concerned. Not concerned? How could you say that after what I have been through...with the same problem?!'

Aunt Mil called and had enough nerve to tell mom that she was concerned about me grieving unhealthily. I should be over things by now.

Things like these are what keep me isolated from my family. I feel so lonely around them these days. No one seems to understand. And how could they? It's impossible for them to get it. Their children are alive.

So many things have happened in the past 2 years that my life isn't even close to what it was when I left for Florida.
Here's the rundown...

June 2005- I hurt my ankle, out of work until September
July 2005- bills getting tight
August 2005- ask for loan from grandparents
October 2005- we get married
November 2005- put house on the market
January 2006- house sells; we move...make almost $10k less than we expected
brother deploys to Quatar
early miscarriage
Febuary 2006- pregnant with Dylan
March 2006- hear Dylan's heartbeat
April 2006- move back to PA
May 2006- loose Dylan
June 2006- Derick's car gets reposessed because of funeral costs
July 2006- diagnosed with depression
September 2006- find great job
brother deployed to Iraq
October 2006- pregnant with Riley
loose job because of being pregnant
December 2006- cerclage placed
cervix opens
loose Riley

Thats a lot of bad things and not nearly enough good things. Most we couldn't have controlled, although some we could have made better choices. I'll admit that. But now things are looking up at least financially. I brought this up because Derick and I were trying to remember what the happiest part of our married life was so far. Deffinately being pregnant, but it is sort of bittersweet I guess...it started so blissful and ended so tragically.

The baby department...thats another story. But we'll get there, I guess. Not without lots of tears though.

What I want to say

I've been having a string of particularly bad days. Mom said that she talked to Lex last night for her birthday. She's 14w pregnant. She asked how I was doing. Mom told her I was ok. Ok? Why do I always say I'm 'ok' when people ask? I'm NOT ok! What I wanted Mom to tell her was that when her baby's heart started beating, my baby's stopped. When she went to her first prenatal visit, I went to the visit to hear that I might not ever have kids. While she's happy and blissful, I'm so, so sad.

On tv last night I heard a man say that "Every parent knows what it's like to put a baby to sleep..." No, every parent doesn't know. Please explain. Help me to understand why it's so hard to hear your child cry. Please explain to me how frustrating it can be to not be able to get them to sleep for a few hours. Please explain, I really want to know. Please explain these things to a parent who will go an eternity without hearing their child cry, without being able to put their child to sleep, and to a parent who has go through life not being able to wake up with their child in the next room. Please explain, because not 'Every Parent' knows.

Derick took me to Cabella's yesterday. He likes it there. It's like a man's toystore. I referenced it as the 'House of Furry Horror's.' He didn't explain to me that there were dead, stuffed animal carcasses hanging on the walls. There were rooms FILLED with dead stuffed furry animals. Even a chipmunk..how do you kill a chipmunk? Anyhow, he dragged me there under the pretense of the aquarium. He forgot to mention that they had dead animals. I'm by no means opposed to huntin, it's not for me but whatever...but what I have a problem with is people who hand dead animals on a wall. They kill them to hang...what's with that? They had a mechanical robot human thing there telling stories. I was suprised to see that it wasn't a 'real' taxidermied human being. It should have been because really, what's so wrong with a stuffed human in a room full of stuffed animals? I'm a proud catch and releaser....but anyway...that's not the point of this story. The point is that there were babies all over the place. Little boys with their dad's running around, and crying to their moms. I found myself looking into every stroller, or staring I guess, because I was wondering what Dylan and Riley would look like. I thought, "That baby has brown hair, what would Dylan and Riley's look like?" That baby is about 6 months old, is that what Dylan would be doing? It hurt to look, but it hurt even more not to.

We looked at apartments today. Our first joy in a long time. We decided on a place, although we have some work to do on our credit. But hopefully by June we should be alright. Fingers crossed of course!

Must be fate!

Derick got some paperwork from Scott's the other day. They offer a $5000 adotpion assistance. Not many companies do that, and I certainly didn't think that they would. It must be fate! Now I'm anxious to find out if Amex offers some sort of adoption assistance too. That would be really nice.

I'm nervous about a few things though. I'm worried about a homestudy...if we will have enough money saved to prove that we can take care of a child...if my depression or the fact that I took antidepressants will show that I'm mentally ill even though I'm not...if we will be good enough to get through. I hate the worry. I always have something to worry about. What if they think we don't deserve to have a child though?

It's a long ways out. I know. But I'm so worried already. I guess just because at this point I can't imagine it not being a part of my life. I'm afraid that if the option is taken away from us that it will feel as though I'm loosing a child all over again. I want more than anything for an adopted child to be a part of our lives. I want more than anything to be a mother to a child who desperately needs it. But what if I get so attached to the idea of it, and then things don't pan out...I will feel like I lost another child in my heart. I don't know how to deal with that. I guess it's worries that we all struggle with.

Maybe because it wasn't easy to accept the fact that we may not have children of our own. It wasn't easy to accept that our babies would be born to another mother. I will never feel them move inside me, yet I will recieve the best part of them. What will happen to me if I'm preparing for this major event in my life, but it never happens? I keep seeing this baby in my head...sometimes he or she has dark skin, sometimes he or she has Asian eyes, sometimes he or she has poker straight hair...who am I kidding...usually when I picture the child it's a she! Sometimes I picture a little Russian boy with platinum blonde hair wearing Leiderhosen (sp?). I don't know why he is wearing Liederhosen...that's German...but I don't know what little boys wear in Russia! I picture these awful orphaneges and me waltzing in there and saving the life of a child that I want and need just as much as he or she wants and needs me.

What if I loose my dreams all over again? I don't know if I can come back from that. It almost puts me into an anxiety attack just thinking about! Breathe Becky! Breathe! Things will work out...there is no sense getting worked up all over it now!

The Cemetary

We went to the cemetary today. Derick and I. I bought some shamrocks from AC Moore to put by their teddy bears and I wanted to be sure that I brought them in time for St. Patricks Day.

When I was a kid, St. Patty's day was my favorite. My Mimi used to go all out for us. She was Irish. We would stay over at their house the night before, and when we woke up in the morning the Leprechauns came and turned the milk green, the pancakes green, and the mashed potatoes green for dinner. Sometimes she would make potatoe pancakes, but not often. Only if we were good. She would put the green milk in her coffee like there was nothing different about it. And go about the day whisteling to herself or singing Irish songs. She would send us out searching for 4-leaf clovers and laugh when or if we found one. She would decorate the house....although she always had shamrocks and things around. So it wasn't much more than usual. My grandfather, though, is Italian. But still, since he knew how much she loved it, he would go ALL OUT and decorate the house outside. He loved to do it for her. But he hasn't since she passed away nearly 12 years ago. She loved the day so much, in fact, that she was on her death bed in the hospital and she died at 1:01am on March 18th. She just had to make it past St. Patty's day on the 17th. It always stop and say a prayer or two on St. Pattys day.

I know that Dylan and Riley will have such a special day with her. She will make it just as magical for them as she made it for me.

There was also some snow still on their side of the cemetary. The side without any sun. Derick chose that side because the grass was so green and it was shady in the summer. The snow was still fresh, and powdery. There had been no one else in there as there were not human footprints through the snow. Yet on that side, you could see the bunny tracks. It looked as though it stopped at every grave, got to Dylan and Riley's and went around it in a circle, stopped, and continued on it's way into the tree's. Derick and I laughed. We have come there many, many times just in time to see the bunny's running and playing. They eat the buds off the flowers. I would rather replace them because the bunny's ate them instead of them just dying. So I'm learning which ones they like, and those that they don't. They really like mums.

It was a peaceful day there. It's funny how quiet it is. There is a busy street in front, yet when you are in the midst of Baby Heaven it's as if the rest of the world has stopped and it's just us and our children, silently crying, but not always tears of sadness.

Wow!

Life is starting to look up!!

Derick had two interviews today. The first with a warehouse that paid well, but just a blah kind of job. And the second...would be almost a 'dream' job for him. Working outside again as a Lawncare Technician for Scott's Lawncare...fertilizer and pesticides and stuff.

He came back from the first looking a little discouraged. He said that they would let him know in 3-5 days if he got the job. The second, he came back from beaming! They offered him the job, right there on the spot! They offered him much, much more money than we had both anticipated!

Our luck has changed. Life is back in our hands again. We finally, finally passed the test!

We both start on March 19th.

Now we just have to get ourselves out of this financial slump, and we will do just fine! I can't believe it! Last week ended so terribly...and literally new doors were opened yesterday. We both ended up with our 'dream' jobs making decent money. We have our goals and our dreams back...we have a reason to work...and best of all...next year it's TAC and baby makin time! Yay!

What a weekend

What a shitty weekend. I wish that it was all over. I hate this. I hate life sometimes.

I wish that I had gone when Riley did.

Life is just so hard right now. Derick and I are fighting an uphill battle financially with no help or support from those around us. I just can't seem to find a job, despite all of the resumes I've sent out. And when I get an interview, either I blow it or it just doesn't happen. I don't know why. Have I changed that much in the past 10 months that makes me unhireable? What is wrong with me? I just don't get it. It's never taken me longer than a week to find a job, and here I am going on almost 2 months of DESPERATE searching.

Maybe I'm not as qualified as I think. Maybe they don't think that I can do the job. Maybe I don't possess something that they are after. Maybe I'm just not good enough.

It's not the bad luck that we had had before, but it's just a different type of sad. Before we didn't get any breaks. At least we get one here and there now. Our families are getting frustrated with us. We owe everyone money. I didn't expect to not work like this. I didn't expect to be not working this long. Because of me, our credit is shot and we are at the lowest point of our lives. Because of Dylan, I couldn't work. Because of Riley, I lost my job. It's not fair to blame them, and I'm not. But I can't help but wonder how things would have been different. How they would have played out. If we didn't have Dylan, we would still be in Florida in our house...the house that we owned together. We would still have our same jobs, the ones that we loved. We would be happy and independant. If we hadn't had Riley, I would still had my job. We would be almost out of our financial slump, and deffinately on our own by now. Instead, here we are. No babies. No family. No money. No job. No independance. Nothing. But we have each other. Sometimes though, that isn't enough. And that scares me. If we keep going on the track that we are, we aren't going to have anything...not even each other. If we continue on the track that we are, we might not even have ourselves.

I'm so tired of this shit. I'm tired of living this way. And it's going to take a long time to get out of this hole. We have doctors bills piled on top of doctors bills, a car payment, credit card bills (only like $500 but still), and we owe my parents, his parents, and my grandparents money. How on Earth are we going to get out? Seriously looking for suggetions...got any?

Invisible wings

I finally got ahold of Renee at the hospital today. She is the Perinatal Loss Consultant. She is in chanrge of all the stillbirths and miscarriages as well as memorial items and the support group. I had talked to her a few times on the phone in the last couple of weeks. She's very compassionate.

Anyway, I pulled into the parking lot to go in through the front doors. I turned off the car, took my seatbelt off, and there was a knock at my window. There was an old lady standing there with what looked like a permanent frown. I rolled down the window and she said, "You parked to close to my car. I can't even open my door!" I appologized, she frowned at me, and I said a few obscenities as I rolled back up the window. I wanted to say, "I'm sorry mam. But I'm trying to get up the nerve to go inside and pick up pictures of my dead baby." But instead I looked over and couldn't help but notice the 4ft between my car and hers. An elephant could have gotten into the car in that space! Her husband pulled out of there quicker than I could pull back into the spot. I got out, and walked through the doors. The same doors that not two months earlier I had ran in with amniotic fluid streaming down my legs. When I got to the information desk, I asked where Renee's office was. She didn't know who I was talking about. I mumbled quietly, almost unable to speak, "Renee W. She's the perinatal loss coordinator." The lady looked at me, and back down at her computer. I don't know, she said. Check at the Perinatal center. I turned and left, thanking her for the no help that she gave. And I wondered to myself how I was going to make it up there. The perinatal center. The last place I was that I was pregnant with Riley. The place that I was when they told me there was nothing they could do. The place where Dr. Bell looked through my eyes and into my heart and told me how very sorry he was, but I was going to loose my second son. I walked past the gift shop that just a few months ago I had marvelled at. I walked by the elevators and pushed the button. The elevator came down, I got on, and behind me a prgnant woman and a doctor got on as well. The lady looked like she was due the end of May. The tears started to come. The doctor was going on and on about how when his youngest child was a newborn his oldest children were just enthralled with him and blah blah blah. This time I was crying silent sobs. I stared at the numbers. It felt like I was on the elevator for hours. Ding. Their floor came. They got off, I sighed a big sigh of relief. Ding. There's my floor. I got off, turned to my right, and started walking. I got to the door of the Perinatal center and froze. For the first time I noticed the quilts on the walls. The quilts that had the names of each baby lost. The quilts that next year would hold the names of my babies. I turned back to the left and started walking down the hall towards the NICU. I asked a nurse at the nurses station. She took me to the office, and I walked in. Renee met me immediately with his pictures in her hand. You aren't going to look at these alone I hope, she said. No, of course not. I'm waiting for my husband. I'm waiting because I'm to afraid to open them I wanted to say. She walked me back to the elevators and stopped to show me her favorite quilt. She showed me the names and they were beautiful. Each year a different one. Each year with different babies. She said in 2006 they had 42 second and third trimester losses. That's a lot, almost one a week. I asked her about the woman who was in labor, knowing her baby had passed, at the same time I was. I wanted to know how she was doing. I think about her often. She told me she wasn't sure, but she would try to get a hold of her again to see. She said she would be sure to tell me if she was going to the support group or not. We chatted a bit, I shed a few tears, and then the babies started to cry. Their sweet newborn wail. The sound that haunts me at night. I got back into the elevator, went downstairs and out to the car. I met Derick at work, we looked at the pictures together. He was so much smaller than I remember. But beautiful.

I saw something that I want to get. It's quotes for your wall, but big and decorative. One said, "A baby is an angel with invisible wings." That's what I think of when I look at the pictures of my boys. Invisible wings.

She's pregnant?!

My mom spoke to my aunt last night. I have 10 other first cousins on my mom's side. The oldest is 29 and the youngest is 11. My brother and I are the only two that are married. Anyway, my mom hung up the phone with a funny smile on her face and asked me how old my oldest cousin was.

I knew that Lex was having problems with her cervix. She has HPV and has had numerous surgeries to remove the cancerous cells. She dates guys, changing them as often as I change my underwear. It's always been a family joke. But she's happy, nonetheless. And that's all that matters. She started dating this guy, who is very nice. And at Thanksgiving she mentioned to me that she wasn't using any birth control. She also said that her doctor told her that her cervix was shreaded and she would need a cerclage.

Her mother hasn't called us. She spoke to everyone else in the family, except for us. She's one of my closests aunts, and I'm hurt that she couldn't tell us. I guess she wanted to be sure before she said anything. But now my worry is that they won't say anything and I won't be able to tell Lex what I want to tell her about her medical care. I don't want her to get a TVC. I want her to go right for the TAC. I'm worried, is all. And I'm happy. Suprisingly. Happier than I thought I would be. If God willing everything turns out ok, the joy that the baby will bring my family will be immense. And if it works out for her, there is so much hope for me. I guess I'm not so upset because I feel like I'm not so alone anymore.

One year ago

My sweet Dylan,

My how time has flown. On this day, last year, we found that our lives were going to take a welcome turn. We found out that we were pregnant with you.

At that time, we had no idea what God had in store for us. We had no idea what to expect, or even how to go about being parents. But we knew, without a doubt, that we loved you more than life itself.

The day was a beautiful, warm day in Orlando. I dropped Daddy off to play golf with his friend, Mike. He told me to pick him up in a few hours. I had so much to do that day. We had just moved into a new house, and I had tons of unpacking to do. But I couldn't focus my attention on anything but you. I knew that my period was due the Monday before, and it hadn't come yet. So instead of going back home, I drove over to the outlet stores. I walked into the Carter's outlet, and they had a 70% off sale! It was fate! The woman at the store asked me if I needed help. I said, "No thank you. I'm just looking. Not even absolutely sure that I'm pregnant yet." But I was sure, without a doubt. Daddy and I had a conversation a few nights before. We had talked about a baby, and I knew. There was this feeling deep in my heart that I was pregnant. So I humored him, but kept my mouth shut. The night of the conversation, I had read that you can use an OPK as a pregnancy test...so I did. And it was positive. I knew for sure that I wasn't ovulating again! I walked around Carter's for at least an hour. Feeling all the soft baby fabrics, dreaming of little boys and dinosaurs and little girls and fairytales. I touched each fabric, lingered on the softest of soft blankets, and walked out of the store with a smile on my face. After Carter's, I went to the Dollar General to get some pregnancy tests. I snuck them in my purse, and left to go pick up Daddy from his golf game.

When we got back home, Lilo and Max were waiting patiently for us. Daddy let them out, and went onto the computer. I went into the bathroom in time to hear him say, "Don't take a pregnancy test yet. I don't want to be dissapointed." It was to late. By the time he said that, I already had the positive test in hand. I called to him, and he came running. Lilo and Max were right behind him. I sqeeled, "Do you see the plus sign?" I needed desperately to know that he saw what I did. He did. We hugged each other for so long, not wanting that moment to ever go away.

The next few weeks were filled with such memories. Sleepless nights worrying about how we were going to pay for your college, sleepless nights because my stomache was growling, and sleepless nights just because I wasn't comfortable! Daddy told me, "You can't be hungry already. I just can't eat anymore!" You grew so well. You were such a strong little boy.

Oh Dylan, I miss you so very much. It seems as though holding you and carrying you were just a dream. But it wasn't. It was more than a dream, although it feels like so very long ago. I wish sometimes that time would slow down a little just so that I can adjust a little more to life without you and Riley. But it can't. And I can't let it. I need life to keep on going, as hard as it is for us. Your little soul can't even imagine how much you have bettered me. At times, it's to much for my big soul to imagine. I love you more than life itself. I would do anything to have you and Riley back here with me, but I've tried everything I could think of. And it didn't work. So for now, we have to adjust to speaking to each other silently until I can hear your voice once again.

I love you baby boy. You will always be my first born son.

Love and kisses always,
Mommy

What a weekend

Friday I got a phone call from a guy about a job that I applied to. He wanted to set up an interview. So it's tomorrow. I'm excited, but in the course of reading to Derick what the job entailed, I saw that they were hiring for something else. A Multi-Day Tours Assistant. Fancy name for basically putting together things for group cruises, bus tours, charters, sending the information to the passenger, booking air fare, and keeping track of their files. It's what I've been looking to do for a long time. So I'm going to ask him to consider me for both positions. The guy was weird though, and the converstation was strange. I think he's a jerk, he thinks I'm crazy. This is pretty much how it went

Him: "Hi, may I speak to Rebecca?"
Me: "This is her."
Him: "Hi, this is so and so from Transbridge Tours, I was wondering if you could come in for an interview?"
Me: "Sure!"
Him: "I see that you left Guardian, do you mind telling me why?"
Me: "Uhh...I had some personal reasons."
Him: long pause
Me: "I found myself pregnant with a very high risk pregnancy, and needed to leave because of some complications...but we went on to loose that baby as well."
Him: "I really didn't need to know that much. That was really to much information."
Me: "I'm sorry about that. I never know exactly what to say when people ask me that."
Him: "How's Tuesday at 11?"

Now wouldn't you think that after a long pause, he would want you to elaborate some more? I thought that's what he wanted. I didn't want him to think that I left because I couldn't get along with people or management. Because that wasn't the case. But now I feel like an idiot and I think he's a jerk. Derick told me if I don't like it, I don't have to stay. But we need the money.

So on Saturday I went to Aunt Chris's for the afternoon. It was a huge step for me because I was out of my box. I went by myself, even though I wasn't completely comfortable, and ended up having a wonderful time. I had to leave though because Pop had a mass for Riley at 4:30 that afternoon. So I picked up Mom, and we went. We got there a bit late though because she missed the turn, so by the time we got there Pop and Aunt Chris were already seated and we had to take a seat in the back. I looked over at them and noticed a lady with a baby about 4 months old, the same as Dylan would have been had he been born in October. I started to cry. I saw Pop, and he was crying. I looked over again, and he was gone. About 30 mins later, he came over to me in the middle of the service and gave me a hug. I told him I loved him, and he went back to his seat, still crying. It broke my heart. I hate to see him so sad. I know how much he loves both of my boys, and his life has certainly changed because of them. It seems as though at 80 he has lost his innocence as well. Anyway, Mom rode home with him and he mentioned that the baby sitting in front of him just put him over the edge. I know what he meant. It was very hard. He was such a happy, playful baby and there we were...grieving two babies. I want so much for him to see a Great Grandchild before something happens to him, but at the same time I feel horrible for putting him through this one more time. I don't want him to see the pain on our faces, and I don't want to see the pain on his. He has so much love for children that I feel as though I'm taking that away from him. He and my grandmother had also suffered a miscarriage between the twins and my Aunt Mil. I think that he feels a lot of emotion from that as well and it doesn't help things.

On Sunday I was having a bad day. I woke up sad, and I just couldn't get out of it. Derick and I had a fight because I was sad and wanted a hug but he didn't know if I wanted to be left alone or if I wanted him to console me. So he left me a lone. Wrong! After we both got over it, we went to see Grandad since he came home from the hospital. I hate to say it, because I'm not one to feel this way, but I've lost so much respect, love, and appreciation for them in the past 8 months. When I say that I really don't care, I don't. I went over to see my aunt and uncle who had come in to town. We didn't leave without a lecture from my grandfather, and he managed to make a comment about his brother's family..."Their poor family. Out of 4 babies, they lost 2." I wanted to scream, "What about your family? What about me, your grandaughter? What about your Great Grandsons?" They see my grief as insignifigant. They think that I'm just overly sensitive. It makes me sad because I feel like Dylan and Riley don't even matter to them. To any of them. It hurts me tremendously. I don't think they will ever know the power of their words to Derick and I. At his suprise 80th birthday party he thanked all of his grandchildren, but he forgot to mention me. Then he had Heather stand up so that everyone could clap for my brother who was serving in Iraq at the time. I nearly walked out of the party, but instead I went into the other room and silently cried. I felt like I had to respect them, but how much is to much? When do you draw the line...when do you start taking care of yourself and your heart and not worry about the feelings of others? How do you protect yourself from the hurt, without hurting other people...like my father?

So it wasn't a great weekend, but it wasn't bad either. Strange, I guess. I hope that the interview goes well tomorrow. I just want out of the house. And I want out of here. I just want to go somewhere and start a new life. What a dream! Haha!

Ahhhh

I just want to screem today. I don't know why, just one of those moods.

I made dinner tonight, and it was good. I'm always hesitant to make things because I know that my parents won't eat it, but then they will bitch because I don't cook. So I did. It's the first motivated thing I've done in a while. And I was motivated to do it. My Dad ate, two helpings. Derick ate, and I ate. No one died. It was good. Mom comes home from work with a bag full of Panera Bread. I said, "I told you I was making dinner. When you called, Dad told you I was making dinner." She stared at me, yelled because it was my fault that she didn't know, and then went on to make excuses that she just had a craving for a sandwich. What the fuck? No one has a craving for a sandwich that they have to make!! Then she added, "Maybe I'll have the dinner for lunch tomorrow. If I feel like it." Wonderful. There goes a whole pot of sausage and peppers, into the refrigerator to sit for days because no one will eat it. I don't know why it bother's me so much, it's her money lost. But it does. It just does. I want my OWN house. I want my OWN kitchen back. I'm tired of using hers. I have different rules in my kitchen. My rules!

Then she gets on our case about wanting to go to Florida next weekend to get the car. Plane tickets went up, so maybe Derick will have to go by himself. Although I was really looking forward to going. I'm so afraid that it will be hard though. Last time I was there I was pregnant with Dylan. The last time I laid in my bed or sat on my couch Dylan was alive inside me, happy and content. Last time I saw those things, held those things, or wore those things I was the happiest I had been my whole life. And to top it off, Febuary 9th is the day last year that we found out we were expecting him. It's bittersweet I guess. Anyhow, Mom got on our case about going. What doesn't she get that once we get my car back here it will be easier on everyone? Or that we will feel so much better about ourselves instead of putting it off, once again. We've been putting it off since October. How much longer can we go? So she just went to bed mad at me. Who cares. I don't. I have much more important things in my life than worrying about what she thinks. I just wish she could keep her opinions to herself. They make me want to bash my head in. Really.

I'm hungry again. It's late, and I know I shouldn't...but I can't help myself. I only eat one meal a day these days, dinner. So I guess I should. The councilor was a bit taken aback when I told her that I eat only one meal. Maybe that's why she wants to meet with me alone. But yuck, at the same time eating makes me want to vomit. So maybe I won't. I went through this with Dylan...I took the hottest shower I could almost to the point of my skin burning so that I wouldn't hurt so much on the inside. It seems like this not eating thing is doing the same for me. It's keeping my emotional pain at bay by initiating physical pain. I have to get out of this. I know I'm smarter than this. I'm stronger than this. I just don't know how to help myself. Derick will freak out if he hears this. He hates when I'm this way because it scares him.

On a happier note, I've come to the realization that lots of people that I don't know read my blog. And I'm thrilled. My hopes are that maybe another mother will read this and cherish her babies hugs more. Or that another grieving parent will read this and realize they aren't alone. Or that one day, people can look back and see for sure how far I've come. If you are reading now, I love to read your comments. They make me smile and realize that I'm not alone, and that somewhere out there it might touch someone. Plus, there is nothing more that I love to talk about than Dylan and Riley. I feel generic refering to them as 'the boys' isn't that weird? So I'm going to keep refering to them by name as much as I can. They are very indivitual little boys. Both loved so very much!

Ok, so I'm off to get something to eat. I'm also going to work on Riley's cross-stitch birth announcement. It will help me release some stress from my mother! Ahhh! She gets to me!

I wonder

I looked out the window tonight and to my suprise there were big flakes falling. I ran and put my shoes on, got Lilo's ball, and headed on outside. It was our first snowfall since coming back home.

I stood out in the snow, looking up at the dark sky. I wondered what Dylan would do. Would he laugh and giggle? Would he smile or cry? How would he look in his tiny snowsuit? Would it be blue with dinosours? It was so peaceful. Not a noise to be heard except for the snow crunching under my feet. It was cold, but I wanted to stand out there forever watching the flakes fall on my coat, in my hair, on my face. I wanted to feel to air, to breathe it in deep, and to wonder. I wonder what snow looks like from heaven. I wonder if he was watching me think about him. I wonder if he protects his brother and keeps him safe and warm.

The snow fell in perfect, big snowlfakes. It was snow meant to be watched and snow that called to you to stick your tongue out and catch.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be with them. Just for a moment. A friend from I Village says that her son asks if there is an elevator to heaven to see his brother. I wish there was. I'm just as confused about it as he is I think. But he's 3, and I'm a few more than 3!

I just wonder what things would be like if we had Dylan here or Riley was still in my belly. I can only imagine how great of a big brother Dylan is. And I can only dream of the happiness that my Mimi shares with them in heaven.