i've come to the realization that my "new normal" is being someone else... i feel like my every day is spent feeling and acting like someone else... like everything is just a show when really i'm an entirely different person inside...
it consists of waking up, get myself and the kids ready, drop off the kids, go to work, work my 8 hours, then drive home and have 2 beers to ease my mind... all while trying my best not to think of anything that could possibly make me cry... this is now my new normal...
i tell everyone i'm doing good, i tell everyone i'm getting stronger every day... i smile bigger then i ever did, i laugh harder then i should, i try to think of things that people want to hear, i try to join every conversation so that i don't feel left out... just all part of my new normal...
when i feel like i'm about to crack, i shake it off... when i feel like i don't want to be somewhere, i toughen up... when i hear or see something that reminds me of my babies or my pregnancy, i think of something else... i never do the 'run to the bathroom and cry' deal because i know that it'll mean that i was unprofessional... i guess this is all part of my new normal...
in the morning when i want so bad to spend time thinking of my babies, i ignore the feeling... when i want to just cry my heart out, i just suck it in... when i feel like venting to God, to Shane, or just venting, i don't... i have to move on... this is part of my new normal...
i hate feeling uncomfortable in a situation, so i laugh it off... i don't like bringing up something i shouldn't have, so i change the subject... i don't want to make people feel weird, so i try not to say anything... maybe i just think too much... but again.. my new normal...
when i see people i haven't seen for a while, i hear "congratulations" or "how's the baby"... i smile and say fine... i try to avoid uncomfortable conversations and don't want to make others feel bad, when i have to admit, it breaks me inside... adjusting to these are part of my new normal...
seeing pregnant women, little babies, twins... thinking about it, talking about it... going on like i'm ok... trying to hold everything in because i have to just move on... my new normal...
trying to ignore my eyes when they fill with tears, taking a deep breath when i know they didn't mean what they said, sticking it out when i really want to leave the conversation... all part of my new normal....
.........................................................................................................................................
remembering the excitement of being pregnant with the twins...
wanting so bad to be giving birth in a couple of weeks....
wishing this was my turn to be announcing my girls birth day...
wanting to have the nursery all set-up and ready to go...
wishing my babies were still alive...
wanting a happy life without tears and difficult days...
hating this feeling that rips me to the core...
not wanting to be the person to avoid...
still wishing that this was all a bad dream...
remembering the day i gave birth and the day the girls passed...
.........................................................................................................................................
all part of my new normal...
and honestly... i hate my new normal...
Friday, April 27, 2012
Sunday, April 15, 2012
It's not supposed to be like this...
Good days are ok... they are more frequent and are long... but bad days hit me like knife in my back... i don't see it coming and it hurts each time...
so why is today a hard day? just because...
because i was thinking about being pregnant... because i am so sad... because my body couldn't hold my babies... because i feel like it's all my fault...because i feel like a failure... because pregnancy is not supposed to end like this... because i know there's nothing i can do to fix it now...
because it's not supposed to be like this... because i'm supposed have 4 daughters here... because i miss my babies... because it's not fair... because i'm mad or sad or whatever this stupid feeling is that makes me cry all the time....
because i wanted to have my babies growing in my tummy... because i want to be preparing for their arrival... because i want to be happy and have so much to look forward too... because i don't want to put all their baby things away... because i refuse to take down their crib... because that little pink room with the recliner and all their baby things has been dark for months...
because i don't want to be sad and have to pray for healing... because although flowers next to their urns are beautiful, i don't want to have to have a memorial for my children... because i rather have my babies here with me instead of in heaven...
because i wanted my babies to know my love... because i want to be able to hold both of my babies in my arms at the same time...because it pains me that i never got to take care of my own babies... because my babies never got to know me... because they never got to feel my warmth... or hear my whispers... because i thought they would survive...
because trying to keep it all together is sometimes too hard... because i don't want to feel uncomfortable around other people... because i don't want people to feel uncomfortable around me...
because i wanted my miracle twins to survive... because although we've been blessed with our babies while they were in my tummy, i want them to still be here... because when i hear a baby cry, i think about my babies...
because it's been 2 months and my heart still hurts.... because i'm a mommy that misses her children... because i think about my babies all day, everyday.... because life is just not the same without my girls.... because even tho i have so many friends and family that i can call, write to, text... i still feel alone...
because it's not supposed to be like this...
so why is today a hard day? just because...
because i was thinking about being pregnant... because i am so sad... because my body couldn't hold my babies... because i feel like it's all my fault...because i feel like a failure... because pregnancy is not supposed to end like this... because i know there's nothing i can do to fix it now...
because it's not supposed to be like this... because i'm supposed have 4 daughters here... because i miss my babies... because it's not fair... because i'm mad or sad or whatever this stupid feeling is that makes me cry all the time....
because i wanted to have my babies growing in my tummy... because i want to be preparing for their arrival... because i want to be happy and have so much to look forward too... because i don't want to put all their baby things away... because i refuse to take down their crib... because that little pink room with the recliner and all their baby things has been dark for months...
because i don't want to be sad and have to pray for healing... because although flowers next to their urns are beautiful, i don't want to have to have a memorial for my children... because i rather have my babies here with me instead of in heaven...
because i wanted my babies to know my love... because i want to be able to hold both of my babies in my arms at the same time...because it pains me that i never got to take care of my own babies... because my babies never got to know me... because they never got to feel my warmth... or hear my whispers... because i thought they would survive...
because trying to keep it all together is sometimes too hard... because i don't want to feel uncomfortable around other people... because i don't want people to feel uncomfortable around me...
because i wanted my miracle twins to survive... because although we've been blessed with our babies while they were in my tummy, i want them to still be here... because when i hear a baby cry, i think about my babies...
because it's been 2 months and my heart still hurts.... because i'm a mommy that misses her children... because i think about my babies all day, everyday.... because life is just not the same without my girls.... because even tho i have so many friends and family that i can call, write to, text... i still feel alone...
because it's not supposed to be like this...
Thursday, April 5, 2012
When You Lose a Baby...
(Reposted from another blog: http://smallbirdstudios.com/2012/02/05/when-you-lose-a-baby/)
You don’t know what to expect.
People surround you. For a couple of weeks. Making sure you are not going to kill yourself, refuse to get out of bed, or start rocking a baby doll like the crazy lady they heard about from a friend.
You get lots of sympathy cards, clearly written and designed to be sent to console a daughter losing her father. Not the other way around.
You get free baby formula in the mail. For months and months and months.
And free baby magazines. And free baby coupons.
You secretly envy every pregnant woman. But not without a tinge of guilt, because you know all too well that she might be one in four- expecting her rainbow child.
It seems like the whole world is expecting a baby.
You have baby stuff around your home. Because you never imagined you wouldn’t need it.
You feel jarred. In the grocery store. At a birthday party. At the dinner table. At Christmas. Driving.
The baby you never knew, but lost changes every part of your life. Every. single. part.
Forever.
You see baby clothes and it brings tears to your eyes.
You get sick and tired of crying. You never knew it was possible to cry this much.
You find yourself angry at God. Angry at yourself. Just angry.
You sware you can feel them kick but they’re gone. They call them phantom kicks. I call them painful, all kinds of painful. But sweet too.
You know, or you have a strong feeling of knowing what your child would have looked like, and been like. You see a child in the store, or on the street. Their hair color, dimples, smile, their personality and suddenly you are reminded of your child. You miss your child even more, if that’s even possible.
Your Babies R’ Us Registry is still active. There is no delete button on their site. The babies r’ us people don’t make a dime on people like us. Why bother right? You have to call them, plead with them to remove your freaking’ registry, because there will be no baby shower. There is an awkward silence. There is sadness. There will be no baby.
You get hospital bills about 3-4 months after you buried your child. You have to pay for the baby you delivered but didn’t bring home.
You find that moment of happiness in life for the first time, but the guilt swallows it up almost immediately.
You remember the size of the casket. The size of the plot. The face of the funeral director. The expression of those that attended the funeral. The feeling of raw pain, like your chest has literally been ripped open.
Somehow you convince yourself that you deserve happiness. Because you really do. But in the happiest, purest moment, there is still that hole that only they were meant to fill.
People compare your pain to their own pain. The loss of their grandmother, husband, their failed marriage, rebellious teenagers. Somehow this comparing leaves you stranded. If they can compare their pain of a situation to the loss of your BABY, they will likely never get it. Babies are not supposed to die. End of story.
You lost a dream. And it almost feels like you imagined their entire existence up. Their name becomes a distant memory on the lips of others.
There is awkwardness when you talk about your child in a crowd. No one knows whether to cry, walk away or pretend you never brought him or her up.
You lose friends. You find new ones.
You can’t believe that women have actually survived this and you never knew about it. Not really, anyway.
You would do anything for another minute with your child.
You cry when others bring up your child, not so much because it hurts but more so because it such a precious and rare gift.
You long for the rewind button, even after many many instances of acceptance.
You want to know what went wrong, and why…
You find a new appreciation for moments in life that make you laugh… you laugh harder and love stronger.
You know that you can die bitter, or die thankful. There is no in between.
You never ever, EVER get over your child. The one you hoped for, prayed for, carried and loved for the weeks and months they were with you.
You learn to live with the pain.
You are better for having known them at all.
I read this posting on another blogger's page and it brought me to tears... it means the world to me to know that I am not alone... but funny thing is, I have never known pain like this... I have never known anyone to discuss pain like this... I guess somethings are just left to this inner circle of us mommies who have angels...
http://smallbirdstudios.com/2012/02/05/when-you-lose-a-baby/
You don’t know what to expect.
People surround you. For a couple of weeks. Making sure you are not going to kill yourself, refuse to get out of bed, or start rocking a baby doll like the crazy lady they heard about from a friend.
You get lots of sympathy cards, clearly written and designed to be sent to console a daughter losing her father. Not the other way around.
You get free baby formula in the mail. For months and months and months.
And free baby magazines. And free baby coupons.
You secretly envy every pregnant woman. But not without a tinge of guilt, because you know all too well that she might be one in four- expecting her rainbow child.
It seems like the whole world is expecting a baby.
You have baby stuff around your home. Because you never imagined you wouldn’t need it.
You feel jarred. In the grocery store. At a birthday party. At the dinner table. At Christmas. Driving.
The baby you never knew, but lost changes every part of your life. Every. single. part.
Forever.
You see baby clothes and it brings tears to your eyes.
You get sick and tired of crying. You never knew it was possible to cry this much.
You find yourself angry at God. Angry at yourself. Just angry.
You sware you can feel them kick but they’re gone. They call them phantom kicks. I call them painful, all kinds of painful. But sweet too.
You know, or you have a strong feeling of knowing what your child would have looked like, and been like. You see a child in the store, or on the street. Their hair color, dimples, smile, their personality and suddenly you are reminded of your child. You miss your child even more, if that’s even possible.
Your Babies R’ Us Registry is still active. There is no delete button on their site. The babies r’ us people don’t make a dime on people like us. Why bother right? You have to call them, plead with them to remove your freaking’ registry, because there will be no baby shower. There is an awkward silence. There is sadness. There will be no baby.
You get hospital bills about 3-4 months after you buried your child. You have to pay for the baby you delivered but didn’t bring home.
You find that moment of happiness in life for the first time, but the guilt swallows it up almost immediately.
You remember the size of the casket. The size of the plot. The face of the funeral director. The expression of those that attended the funeral. The feeling of raw pain, like your chest has literally been ripped open.
Somehow you convince yourself that you deserve happiness. Because you really do. But in the happiest, purest moment, there is still that hole that only they were meant to fill.
People compare your pain to their own pain. The loss of their grandmother, husband, their failed marriage, rebellious teenagers. Somehow this comparing leaves you stranded. If they can compare their pain of a situation to the loss of your BABY, they will likely never get it. Babies are not supposed to die. End of story.
You lost a dream. And it almost feels like you imagined their entire existence up. Their name becomes a distant memory on the lips of others.
There is awkwardness when you talk about your child in a crowd. No one knows whether to cry, walk away or pretend you never brought him or her up.
You lose friends. You find new ones.
You can’t believe that women have actually survived this and you never knew about it. Not really, anyway.
You would do anything for another minute with your child.
You cry when others bring up your child, not so much because it hurts but more so because it such a precious and rare gift.
You long for the rewind button, even after many many instances of acceptance.
You want to know what went wrong, and why…
You find a new appreciation for moments in life that make you laugh… you laugh harder and love stronger.
You know that you can die bitter, or die thankful. There is no in between.
You never ever, EVER get over your child. The one you hoped for, prayed for, carried and loved for the weeks and months they were with you.
You learn to live with the pain.
You are better for having known them at all.
I read this posting on another blogger's page and it brought me to tears... it means the world to me to know that I am not alone... but funny thing is, I have never known pain like this... I have never known anyone to discuss pain like this... I guess somethings are just left to this inner circle of us mommies who have angels...
http://smallbirdstudios.com/2012/02/05/when-you-lose-a-baby/
Monday, April 2, 2012
like a punch in the stomach...
In a few days, we'll be cheering on Jazlynn & Jayden in their next cheerleading competition at the Waikiki Shell... The Aloha Spirit International Championships... I remember having multiple conversations about this date and how I will be on strict bedrest, maybe try to rent a wheelchair so that I could go and watch the girls perform... Hoping and praying that by this date, I wasn't dilated yet and that the twins would be probably killing my back and giving me leg cramps... but not anymore... good? sure, I guess... but it still hurts like a punch in the stomach...
and Sunday... It's Easter... the first real holiday (besides Valentine's Day) that the girls will miss... I remember telling Shane that he's probably going to be stressing out because of the cheer compeition, making Easter baskets and goodie bags, and with me being completely immobile because of my predicted size... And now, I just feel completely empty as I sat next to the girls urns... wishing that they were either still in me or here with us...
As I slowly reach each date that I had already planned in my head, it breaks my heart a little... each time... each thought... I heard that the due date is often a hard day for many mothers who have loss their babies... I guess preparing my heart and thoughts for this will help to make it a good day instead of a sad...
And I see and hear of so many others getting pregnant, being pregnant, giving birth, having twins, loving their babies and watching them grow.... and I just think... "gosh... how I so wish..." As much as I love hearing wonderful news... it feels like a punch in the stomach...
I don't know when I'm supposed to start feeling happy about all of this... I know what my response is supposed to be... and I know what I'm supposed to think and say... but why does my heart not feel the same... why does it feel like a punch in the stomach when these days happen or when I hear something... why can't I just get over this feeling?
With each day, I know it gets better and until that day comes, I guess I just need to toughen up and just suck it up... some things will knock me down for sure... but I need to learn how to get back up without crying about it...
and Sunday... It's Easter... the first real holiday (besides Valentine's Day) that the girls will miss... I remember telling Shane that he's probably going to be stressing out because of the cheer compeition, making Easter baskets and goodie bags, and with me being completely immobile because of my predicted size... And now, I just feel completely empty as I sat next to the girls urns... wishing that they were either still in me or here with us...
As I slowly reach each date that I had already planned in my head, it breaks my heart a little... each time... each thought... I heard that the due date is often a hard day for many mothers who have loss their babies... I guess preparing my heart and thoughts for this will help to make it a good day instead of a sad...
And I see and hear of so many others getting pregnant, being pregnant, giving birth, having twins, loving their babies and watching them grow.... and I just think... "gosh... how I so wish..." As much as I love hearing wonderful news... it feels like a punch in the stomach...
I don't know when I'm supposed to start feeling happy about all of this... I know what my response is supposed to be... and I know what I'm supposed to think and say... but why does my heart not feel the same... why does it feel like a punch in the stomach when these days happen or when I hear something... why can't I just get over this feeling?
With each day, I know it gets better and until that day comes, I guess I just need to toughen up and just suck it up... some things will knock me down for sure... but I need to learn how to get back up without crying about it...
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