Looking Back

My dearest Shelby and Dalton,

32 weeks ago tomorrow you were born.  It's impossible, some days it seems completely surreal, like we should wake up from the worst nightmare of our lives and yet others it seems like a lifetime ago that you were here with us.  A year ago, I was newly pregnant, although we hadn't yet officially gotten confirmation.

Your Daddy and I have been so low lately.  Perhaps because it's approaching the year mark of when we first found out we were having twins.  Maybe it's because it's so hard going on with our incredibly empty lives, marking the days until we can try again, yet knowing there will always be holes in our hearts no matter how many children we may be gifted with.  I'm still feeling some effects from the c-section.  We're both stuck in this time warp, feeling helpless.  At least Daddy has his job and related travel.  Every week is a new experience, as he's in a different city or working with a different client.  I sit at home, finding myself wallowing. 

This week, I try to be more productive, running errands, organizing paperwork and prepping for our trip to Peru.  I tended both the front and back yards, and did a bit of housework.  I went to bingo with another MISS mommy and both of our moms.  It was an OK way to pass a few hours, but she and I both felt our minds wandering.  She too lost twins in November 2010, then a third daughter this past June.  She just found out they think the latest loss may have been related to an inflamed cervix.  This was a new term to me, and of course, my mind started playing the "what if" game again.  What if my cervix was inflamed?  Did that contribute to it being "incompetent"?  (God I hate that term, I was never incompetent at anything in my life, until now, until the most important thing at which I should NOT have been incompetent, carrying y'all through a full-term pregnancy).  What if they did a cerclage?  What if we would have paid more attention to the warning signs of preterm labor?  What if things wouldn't have deteriorated so quickly from the 12th of December to the 25th of December?  What if I demanded better answers from my doctor when I told him about my early-stage urine leakage issues?  Was that a sign I would suffer preterm labor?

Then, I thought of all the various "milestones" in the brief time I was pregnant.  What was always a strength for me with being good with numbers and dates is now a curse, as so many dates are painful reminders of things I would have done differently or things I never got to experience.  The 11th of October, which marked the end of my 1st trimester, yet it was also the day they announced the year-end closing of our office.  I remember simultaneously being terrified, pissed, sad and uncertain.  I thought it was particularly shitty of them to rain on my parade.  I had so many plans to tell Marcus and our other friends that day.  Instead, it felt like a piece of my world was shattering.  Chris and I just hugged and cried.

We carefully planned the way we would tell your grandparents.  We would have told all of them at the same time, but logistically with one set in Pinetop and the other in Texas, the best we could do was a 6 day lag.  We told Daddy's parents October 29.  Grandma Kay cried and was so excited, and Grandpa Larry exclaimed "Hallelujah" when we stressed that it was going to be twins.  Then, we told my parents November 4 by presenting them with Baylor Grandparents T-shirts.  Grandpa Joe seemed in shock, but what really shocked us was Grandma Nancy's reaction.  Never one to fawn over babies or put any pressure on us for grandchildren, she seemed truly happy for us.  She cried tears of genuine happiness.

From the instant Daddy's parents found out, Grandma Kay wanted to buy just about every baby supply out there.  She announced they wanted to buy the cribs.  She wanted us to decorate the nursery.  November flew by in a blur, with Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Joe's visit and then our trip to Las Vegas for my birthday.  It was funny because y'all had routinely made me sick each afternoon.  During our time in Vegas, when we enjoyed some very lovely meals at Nob Hill Tavern, Sirio and Jose Andres' Jaleo, y'all must have really been content with the good (and expensive) gourmet food, because you didn't give me nausea once during our time there.  Then, upon our return, we shared a small pizza from our neighborhood place and within 30 minutes, I was standing over the kitchen sink, purging it all!  I joked with Daddy that y'all were going to cost us plenty. 

Then December rolled around.  Chris insisted she throw us a baby shower at work, even though I told her I didn't want one.  Your Grandma Nancy always carried on about how she never had a shower with me and she was superstitious about them being bad luck.  However, Chris said I had to have one before the office closed, so my shower was planned for December 6.  Everyone was so generous to me and Chris did a lovely job on the decorations.  I saved the "diaper layer cake" Alicia made to show our parents at Christmas, and I planned to use the diapers on you.  We received over 400 diapers, and $400 in cash and gift cards, plus various gifts.

Sometime during that week of December 6, I had a horrible dream that was so shockingly real when I awoke, I was afraid to get out of bed.  I reached for the phone and called Daddy, as it absolutely terrorized me.  In the dream, I woke up in a pool of blood. As I gathered my senses and realized it was a dream, I was so afraid if I stood up from the bed, I would find it was actually true and that we had lost you.  Your Daddy talked me "down off the ledge", rationalizing it was probably just hormonal, asking if it felt like the sheets were wet.  When I told him no, he then said he would stay on the phone with me while I went to bathroom and made sure there was no blood.  Luckily, there wasn't, not even a tiny pin-size droplet.  I felt immense relief.  On our drive to work that morning, I relayed the dream to Chris.  She didn't say much, but she was insistent I tell my OB.  I told her it was probably just nothing, yet she was adamant.  So at my appointment on the 9th, I mentioned it.  He said it was probably nothing and that I shouldn't worry about it.  Later on, after you died, Chris reminded me of that dream and said that when she first heard about it, her blood ran cold, for a cousin of hers had a similar dream, and then her baby died.  That's why Chris had been so insistent I tell the doctor about it, so they could check me thoroughly and make sure everything was OK.

On the evening of the 9th, we went to dinner with your Uncle Ryan, Aunt Violet, cousin Emily, Grandma Kay and Grandpa Larry.  After dinner, Uncle, Auntie and cousin went home while your grandparents, Daddy and I went to browse at Babies R Us.  Your Daddy was amazed at all of the various gear and paraphernalia we would need.  We picked a few cribs that we liked, trying to be mindful and not select the priciest model.  Grandma was ready to buy everything that night, but we asked her to bear with us, and probably after the new year, we could make a final decision.  We naively thought that when my office closed, we would have all of January, February, March and at least a bit of April to relaxingly plan and shop and decorate.

Then, on Monday December 12th, we had our second ultrasound.  The first was when we confirmed you were twins.  They asked us if we wanted to know your sex, but we wanted to be surprised.  Everything went smoothly, the tech took 99 pictures (more than double what she took of other mothers whose profiles appeared on the screen).  I cried, of course.  I remember thinking I had never seen such perfection.  The profile pics of your heads were completely flawless, perfectly round.  Your Grandma Kay said one of you looked just like Daddy, which cracked us all up, for the photos were just outlines of your skulls and necks.  The tech told us everything looked good, explaining the many things they looked at and that you were in normal ranges with no sign of Down Syndrome.  We then met with the doctor, who spent a good bit of time with us, including a review of the dangers of pre-term labor.  I don't remember all of them, but I do know high blood pressure was one, and if the differential between your estimated weights became greater than 20% was another, but on that day, it was lower than 20%  (I'm so mad at myself for not remembering exactly.  Perhaps your Daddy remembers) and throughout the entire pregnancy, my blood pressure never spiked.

On Christmas Eve, while gathered for our Southern Italian heritage tradition of the Festa dei Sette Pesci, Grandma Kay again started pressuring us to get the nursery decorated.  I don't know why she was in such a hurry, considering we thought we would have at least another 15 weeks until you made your arrival, and with me not working, much time to devote to preparing everything for you.  As you know, Grandma Kay can be rather persistent and one-dimensional in her focus.  I very politely told her to back off, I would appreciate it if she would just let me get through the sad time of our office closing before I shifted my focus to decorating the nursery.

Looking back, it chills me to review the various things I detailed above.  Were they all signs that you wouldn't be with us?  The nightmare about waking up in blood, the reluctance to have a baby shower, the stalling on the decorating of your nursery, the lecture from the maternal-fetal medicine specialist about the risks of preterm labor.  On Christmas Day, feeling terrible and telling your Daddy I didn't know how I was going to make it through another 15 weeks.  I was cramping and having pains in my lower back, as well as being sick with a cold, cough, fever and sore throat.  I just didn't realize the cramps were the start of the preterm labor.

So many things we missed out on only being pregnant with you for 24 weeks.  We didn't get to take the hospital tour of the maternity ward, or participate in any birthing classes. We were robbed of so much, the full pregnancy, a natural childbirth and delivery (well OK, at least not a caesarian), seeing your eyes open, feeding you, really holding you without the encumbrances of all the wires and tubes, dressing you in carefully selected outfits for coming home, introducing you to your canine siblings Abby and Ike (although they already knew you, especially Ike, who used to stand in front of my pregnant belly as if he was trying to "talk" to you)

My babies, I have carried on for quite a bit.  I guess I had a lot to say tonight.  I'm going to say goodnight for now and pray you'll visit me in happy dreams.  I love you both with all my heart.

30 weeks ago

Hello my darlings,

30 weeks ago tonight, I was just about waking up from the anesthesia after our c-section.  I struggled so hard to stay awake as long as I could to see you, but I didn't make it, the anesthesia took over and I passed out.  I am grateful I was able to fight the anesthesia long enough to hear your only cries.  Your 7-month old birthday would be this Saturday, 8/4.  I'm all goofed up on the calculations, as it doesn't make sense that today marks 30 weeks since your entry into this world, but Saturday is 7 months (in my mind 28 weeks).  I know it all makes sense, as there are some months with 5 weeks, and that 30 weeks ago was the day you were born, as I even carefully and precisely counted backwards on the calendar.  Today should have been the day you were 14 weeks old, assuming your estimated due date of April 25.

Last Friday, when I picked your Daddy up at the airport, we took all the clothes to West Valley Child Crisis Center to donate in your memory as part of MISS Foundation's International Random Acts of Kindness Day.  I'm really happy we chose them, as they were so gracious.  We walked in and this lady (Tabitha) came out from a back room.  We asked her if we could donate baby clothes, and she said yes, they would gladly take them.  I told her the reason for our donation, that we'd been helped by MISS and about their Random Acts project and that we chose 6-month old size clothes as that's the age our Shelby and Dalton would have been.  Then we went out to get the gift bags (10 onesies for a boy, 10 for a girl, along with 2 little "romper suits" as your grandma would call them).  When we came back, she told us they were so honored to accept our donations and help us celebrate our children.  It made me feel like it was the right thing to do.

What would we be doing with you?  That's so hard to say, as there are 3 answers to that question.  Assuming you would soon be 7 months old, 2 things could be happening.  In one scenario, my mind wonders if you would have been battling any health issues due to your extreme prematurity?  If so, I imagine we would have had a bevy of specialist appointments, struggling to do the right thing if you were deemed "medically fragile".  The other scenario, assuming you were soon to be 7 months old, is that you would not have any challenges, other than your extremely small size, probably that of a typical 3 or 4 month old infant.  And finally, in the dream scenario that assumed I had a "normal" pregnancy and you were now 14 weeks old, I assume I would be like all the other new mommies who obnoxiously and disgustingly live in a world of blissful ignorance, not knowing the black emptiness of losing their infants.

I'm in a dark, dark place.  Right after you first died, I found myself vowing to live a more positive life, not immerse myself in feeling of hatred, anger, jealousy, envy.  Seven short months later, and I find I am embarassed at my bitterness.  Please help me, Shelby and Dalton, to live a life in which you would have been proud to have me as your momma.

I love you.