Christmas

        Although every single time I breathe and every second of the day I miss my kids, its very hard during the holidays. This year especially as Emerson would be 4 and little Ms. Evelie would only be a few weeks old or I'd still be pregnant. Instead my husband and I are lonely again this year. I'm tired of being that lonely couple that's been married for 6 years and they still have no children. I want my kids. I want the house filled with laughter, I want my little sidekick helping me bake. I want this house filled with happiness, little tiny snowboots and mittens scattered by the front door. Wet snowy clothes strung from the door to Emerson's bedroom. And when we bake my kitchen would have flour everywhere. Instead its just me today, baking alone. Not pregnant, no 4 year old. Just me, trying to fill my time and head with so much stuff that I can't possibly feel sad. No matter how hard I try, that never works. Its impossible to push it away. Forever, for the rest of my life there is 2 giant holes in my heart that can't and won't be filled with anything. They'll be missing from my life forever, from each thing I do. I still can't believe this happened to us twice. I thought Evelie would make it, we did all we could. The doctors did all they could.       

I'm ready for the holidays to be over and stupid milestones to stop (even though they never will, they never did with Emerson and its been 4 years) I want a different life. I don't like this one anymore *sigh*

Jubilee Shalom Duggar

 I just have to say my opinion on this topic because it drives me insane. I recently seen photos from this baby's memorial and I immediately felt scared for the parents. I was so worried they'd get negative comments back for sharing their photos. I also hate how people also have to WARN people before looking at them. Its not like its a huge bloody murder scene, it's a sweet little child born too soon. How could that be disturbing in any way? We were all at that stage of development at a point in our life too. I will never understand someone calling a photo of a baby disturbing.

I remember having a bake sale at Spanky's once and we had a photo of Emerson on the flyer. It was at the counter and I was sitting down in the chairs and a young couple was paying for their food when the guy looked down (not knowing I was the mother of that child) and said "that's just disturbing" I wanted to bawl my eyes out. He called my child disturbing. How could you look at her sweet face and call her disturbing? Why are they disturbing? My children looked the same when they were alive as they did when they passed away.  I will never understand close minded people without compassion or a heart. My heart breaks for the duggars. I don't care how many kids they have, its really not my business why they don't like birthcontrol or the even the fact of whether or not they use it. However, they are wonderful parents and no matter how many you have....a loss is a loss and hurts just the same. I was hoping them sharing their child with the world would open up the taboo issues with infant loss. I am, yet again ashamed at how most of the world treats this topic. How hard is it to put yourself in someone's shoes that has lost a child, and just imagine for a moment what you would feel like.

After having Evelie, I will no longer put warnings on my photos. She was beautiful, she was hope, she was love, she was happiness. I will not warn anyone of those things. I will share those things with you but I will not warn. I don't get photos that other mother's do, I have what I have and if I want to share. I will. So I ask that if you are reading this, take a second and think how you would feel if someone called your child disturbing. Think twice before judging someone and what they do in the name of grief.

My love and thoughts are with the Duggars and Ms. Jubilee Shalom, may you rest in peace sweet little girl <3

Just one of many bad days

   Today after wrapping presents, I sat down to relax and I just lost it. Sometimes when you finally slow down, reality hits. My babies are gone. I know they existed but tonight I needed some kind of proof. So I typed Evelie's name into google, just to see it. To see something show up but then I realized that wasn't what I should have done. All that pops up is her obituary. I just sat and cried. She existed but she's dead. A word I prefer not to use, I'd rather hear "passed away." However tonight I'm angry. I'm angry she's gone. She brought so much hope, so much happiness into our lives. I will never forget how excited her father was for her. He deserves that happiness. This Christmas should be the happiest of our lives. Can't believe we were so close, so close to bringing her home. So close to painting a nursery, so close to happiness. Tonight I'm wondering how I do this, how I keep breathing. How I'm a mother of 2 children that are gone.  Life has lost so much meaning. We had so much to look forward to. We used to mark each week by the passing of Sunday, looked forward to each Doctor appt. and looked forward to Tuesdays when they would measure my cervical length and we held our breath until they said it was a good length. This still feels like a dream. I keep wishing some how I'll wake up and she'll be here. I imagine being able to squeeze her cheeks, and hold her so tight. I just want to touch her again.

It hurts to know what your life should be and having it fall so short of what you wanted. Now we find silly things to bring us happiness, something to keep up breathing. I hate that, I hate that it what our life has come to. I don't want silly little things that are just distractions until I grow old and pass away. This isn't the life I wanted. I'm angry that this is mine now. We will always be THAT couple, the childless couple. The ones that only have each other. The ones that have no idea what its like to pick their child up from kindergarten. The ones where the dad has never changed a diaper in his life and at one time was so excited to try cloth diapering. The ones that know the pain of infertility and will always cringe at the pregnancy announcements and little children the age theirs should have been. The ones that try to fill their life with something to take up their time until they die. Sometimes I wish I would have pushed the Doctors harder, told them more than I did that I wasn't giving up. I don't want to be here without my kids. Today is hard, every day is hard. 

I miss them. I miss them more than anyone will ever know. I remember what each daughter smelled like. I remember Emerson moving her hand when she was born. Something I wish I would have captured on video camera, but obviously wasn't thinking of anything like that. I remember everything. I wish I could erase the images of watching my children dying. I wish I never had to see their last breath. I wish we were lucky people, I wish this never happened. And sometimes, in my deepest, darkest days I wish I never got pregnant. Not that I don't love them, never EVER question that! Its just this pain is so hard, that the pain of never getting pregnant would be easier to handle than this. I wish, that wishes really did come true.  

Every once in a while I go through their totes and look at all their things. Both their blankets that they were wrapped in right after birth are in a plastic ziploc, It holds their smell in there. I only open it on really bad days because I'm afraid if I do it too much, one day the smell will be done. I do this when my husband isn't home. I can't handle the look on his face when he sees their things. Its too much for me to handle. Especially Evelie's things. He got to bond with her a lot. He felt her kicks, something he never got to do with Emerson. She brought a lot of happiness. She was that rainbow after the storm. Its a lot to handle, your own pain then watching your husband go through it too. It feels like a lot of weight. I feel responsible for a lot of people's pain. Something I can't explain to anyone, that's just how I feel. Life moves forward, but I'm not ready for it to. I'm afraid it will move too fast and some day I'll forget what they looked like, or how they smelled. I'm afraid when I'm older my memory will go and I'll never remember them at all. The only thing I have to hold on to is the hope of being able to see them one day. If that doesn't exist, I'm not sure what I will do. 

I hate that I know I've had days like this before, will have them in the future for the rest of my life. When I was younger, this was not the life I envisioned. I thought I'd get married and have babies just like anyone else and we'd live happily ever after.....not even close.

Water bottles

     I am not ashamed to admit I've done and still do weird things in the name of grief. Most recently had to do with some water bottles. Most of you know I was on bedrest, that didn't always mean I was in bed. It was on the couch too. However I drank water like crazy and had bottles everywhere I went. More than one so I wouldn't have to get up too much. Well at night I'd have them on my table next to the bed. I had 3 of them the night my water broke. They weren't empty, most half full. They stayed there because we were in the hospital, so when I got home from losing Evelie they were still there. I refused to throw them away, along with some other things. Until recently, my husband had no idea I was attached to them. No idea why I wasn't throwing them away. Sunday night, we weren't getting along the greatest (grief does that sometimes) We were just silent to eachother no arguing, just not talking. He decided to clean and I wasn't paying attention. He picked up my bottles and dumped them into the sink. As soon as I heard the water in the sink, I jumped up so fast because I had a bad feeling those were my bottles. He stood there dumping my water. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't even muster the words to tell him to stop. I just dropped to the floor crying. Then he knew, he knew what those bottles were. My heart was broken, I don't know why I couldn't let them go, I just knew I wasn't ready to dump them. I was mad at him, I wasn't thinking about anything but how angry I was. I knew he didn't mean it, but I was hurt and angry and he was there to take it out on. I didn't speak to him, I ran into the bedroom and that's where I stayed until I fell asleep for the night. 

I've been busy with work this week so I hadn't paid much attention to the kitchen or anything. Until just now I did some dishes (I've done them since Sunday but guess I wasn't paying attention) I looked to the left of the sink and my three bottles are there. My husband must have felt bad and he didn't throw them away. However, for some reason now that the water is gone I don't want them. I'm still mad that the water is gone and they've moved from the night stand that they've been on since August.  But even being empty I could not pick them up and throw them away. I guess I know why and how some hoarders start. I know those bottles are silly, they are just plain water bottles, with no meaning to anyone but me. I'm not even sure what their meaning is to me. I guess I'm not ready to let her go or anything I touched while I was pregnant. So next to the kitchen sink, my 3 water bottles will stay. I still have a rose that my parents bought while we were in the hospital. The day the doctor said she thought all was ok and my they didn't think my water broke. My parents bought a pink rose and on the card it said it was our good news rose. I think they threw the card away after she passed away but we kept the flower and that flower is dead and wilted in my kitchen in the same exact water it was in months ago. That is another item, I can't part with.

I think I hold onto them because it makes me feel closer to her or that I really was pregnant and at that moment in time I was happy. Those silly items are happiness and I'm not ready to part with them. So even though I'm upset that they were moved and they're no longer half empty, I will not move them. They are still my bottles, so for now my empty water bottles will stay next to the sink as a symbol of my husband understanding that I needed those. I love him for silently leaving them after realizing what they meant. Even though we weren't getting along at the time, he could have thrown them away out of spite, but he didn't. He couldn't put the water back but he left the bottles. My heart needs those bottles.

"call me Mara"

I am very much bitter today. At work I watched a father with his daughters and though I used to smile and my heart would explode at images like that. They now break my heart into a million pieces. I will never see those images instead the images I have are of my husband crying out "why, why again" as our 2nd child was born and the doctor held her in her hands. It was like a horrifying scene out of a movie. I have watched my husband (not once but twice) fall to his knees, begging and crying as his children were born. I will never see him hold them and smile, no joy was ever felt. I watched him cry as he held his daughters. I'm bitter that I will never have those pictures, I will never see him hold his daughters with such happiness. I'm so bitter for him, so very bitter that he will never experience that with them. I am mad at the world. Our only pictures are of sadness. I miss them so much today, so much heartache and the holidays blow. They have since Emerson was born but we thought we'd have some happiness this year. Its so hard to be happy. I can laugh and be numb and act like all is right in the world, but inside its falling apart and will be for a long time. I can't buy picture frames that say "family" we're not a family, we're just the 2 of us. The way its been for the last 6 years. I can't even write tonight, I'm so hurt. I will share with you the photos we do have. I remember someone saying that people only take photos of happy things, never sad. They are wrong, these photos are sad but had they not been taken I would have nothing of my daughter. 

To be honest I thought about putting a warning about the pictures. Normally people do, however I don't think these are disturbing. They are sad, this is life, this is what happens to some people and I am not ashamed of her, she was beautiful and she is my daughter.

A raw look inside the mind and heart of a grieving, infertile mother.

    I ask that you not judge for what may come out in this tonight. Not a single person knows exactly what I'm going through except for me. This is and will be the hardest thing I've ever had to go through. I'm very bitter tonight about a million things. I'm sure this will be all over the place as my mind is right now so stay with me as good as you can.

I'm angry. Angry that I got married early on (and everyone "behind" me is on their 2nd or 3rd child), angry that my journey has been 6yrs long, had 6 losses, buried 2 children and now I'm 27 without any living children. Yet I watch everyone around me get what I so badly want. I feel like I'm being punished for waiting until we got married to start trying. I'm angry that we are most likely done ever thinking about having children. Don't mistake that for replacing my kids because another one could never replace them but when you're dying to mother a living child- its extremely hard to let that desire and dream go. I feel like time is ticking away, I am not getting any younger and frankly not sure if I can ever carry another child. I'm angry that if I ever did get pregnant again, we could never be excited about it because there will always be the fear that we'll lose them.  I'm angry that if we ever got pregnant again I'd probably end up planning a funeral instead of a baby shower, something that we're obviously used to doing now. We never got to do that, instead we're "pros" at the funeral business and frankly that makes me so sick and angry. We do not deserve this.

     I'm angry that our happiness was ripped away for the 2nd time. So much hope and thought for sure she was going to make it. I'm angry that I feel like they have no idea what's wrong with me, even though they say they do. I'm angry that sometimes people don't understand why we don't try again. You want to know why its hard to rush into it (no matter how badly I want to) its because I'm afraid that I'd lose another and I don't know where to bury them, don't know if I could survive a 3rd and frankly I'd probably want to move away to a city where no one would ever know our past. No one would look at me like I'm a baby killer because my body can't do what its supposed to. I'm angry that I can't give my husband children. Angry that I tried so hard and did everything perfectly and it still didn't work. I'm angry that I miss my kids and for the rest of my life there is a giant hole in my heart.   I'm angry that this is the life I was handed.  

      I'm angry when people say "I hope that doesn't happen to me" it really hurts my feelings. I didn't want it to happen to me either. I also hate when people refer to my pregnancy with Evelie by saying "oh because you thought you were going to have that baby" No shit of course I thought I was going to have her. I don't like that phrasing. I was listening to a friend say how she's glad she didn't stop over while I was on bedrest to plan my shower because that would've been terrible. Also saying that we got a second car "because we thought we were going to have the baby" those words sting for some reason. Of course everyone thinks they're having their baby, why would you phrase it that way, making me feel stupid for ever thinking she'd come home and this would be it. This would be the happy time. I'm angry that I know when she was going to be born, because my cerclage was getting taken out November 28th. I'm angry that I have to watch my husband in pain, knowing that each pregnancy announcement and new baby stings him just as much as it does me. Recently we were in the video store and as soon as we walked in the clerk's friend came in with her brand new baby. We heard the clerk say " hurry up and get him out of his seat so I can love on him" Our hearts hurt so bad. She carried that baby around the store with her, even waiting on customers while holding him. We waited in the back of the store, hoping she'd put him down and they'd leave before we had to go up front to check out. I stood there telling my husband "it's ok, I can handle it". Even though I was lying.Then he spoke words that broke my heart "maybe you could, but I can't handle it." I know he hurts but when it hurts him so bad he vocalizes it, its a brand new kind of pain. He started to walk towards the front and she was still holding the baby. He told me to go to the car and I watched from outside as he tried to ignore the sweet child in her arms. He said she probably thought he was a dick because he wouldn't make eye contact with her or acknowledge there was anything in her arms. He said he never looked her way at all.  

My heart hurt so bad during all of that. Knowing he has to deal with all the things I do. That hurts when you know you can't do anything to help. I'm angry that, that's how my husbands life is. That is how he has to live for the rest of his life. We're used to dodging babies, because of my infertility. We got used to hiding when babies were born or when we'd seen one headed our way in a store. Infertility does a lot of weird things to you, then add burying your only children to it and you're practically insane. Only infertile couple and baby loss couples will know what I'm speaking of. You do what you can. You're heart is ripped out multiple times on a daily basis. Simple tasks as getting the mail can burn you. I got a baby talk magazine in the mail today, how lovely :( Sometimes I'm ok, sometimes I have good days and I can be around babies but sometimes I just want to hide from them. Its bad when we see a 4yr old girl with a little sister. Something we'll never experience. Its hard when I see dad's with their daughters or pictures of them. A picture I'll never get to take of my husband. I'll never watch him walk them down the aisle to get married, no father daughter dance. No first day of school, no screaming baby at 3am and no chance to ever dry their tears. They never came home, never laid in a crib at our house and never had a painted nursery. This is too hard. Life moves forward for everyone, time heals them. For us there will always be reminders for the rest of our lives. I'm bitter that at the age of 22, I had to know what it was like to watch your child die. That at the early age of 22 I'd live the rest of my life with a hole and someone always missing from all we do for the rest of our lives. Its a black cloud for ever until I die. If i live to be 62 years old, that is 40 years of living with hell and a huge hole in our hearts. 2 people always missing, 40 years worth of that. Its overwhelming. I'm pissed, I'm jealous, angry and envious of everyone that has what we want. I hate that I'm infertile, hate that my body doesn't work and I hate that my husband has to deal with all of this because my body is crap. I hate the holidays now and I hate watching people experience what we should be or should have already experienced. I'm bitter and pissed off tonight.

It's the quiet nights

   It's the moments when the day quiets down, when you've done all you can to keep yourself busy throughout the day and there isn't anything left to keep your mind busy...that's when the terrible nightmare creeps back. When reality hits and you can't do anything else to escape it, that's when the pain creeps in and takes over. You realize that it isn't a dream you'll wake up from, your children are gone. I sat with my husband watching tv tonight. Our normal funny Thursday night shows, when I broke down in tears in the middle. I realized right then how much I missed Evelie's kicks, how much I missed grabbing the fetal heartbeat doppler and checking her beats per minute whenever I wanted and hearing the most beautiful sound of her strong heart beating away. Something I will never hear again. I miss her. I miss her more than words could ever possibly express. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, the rainbow after the storm. The happiness we both needed after such tragedy. She was hope, hope that I never thought I'd ever have again. She gave me the ability to look at baby items without my heart sinking. She gave me love, that love that her sister gave me. The love only a mother knows. And it's all gone now. The nights are the worst and my husband says they are for him too. It's because you can't keep yourself busy anymore, you have to unwind to get ready for bed and there isn't any pushing it away anymore.

I hate the night, I hate going to bed. The bed I laid in so happily, months ago with a baby in my belly knowing I was laying there to keep her as safe as possible. I can't even put it into words tonight. I don't have the strength to write anymore. I miss them more than anyone will ever know