12 months

Thursday December 13, 2012
Precious babies,

Yesterday marked the 1 year anniversary of the day we had our ultrasound.  You were there, in full glory.  They took 99 photos of the 2 of you, and I was amazed at the clarity of the photos, the perfectly round outlines of your skulls, your little noses, your arms and legs in crystal clarity.  I was fascinated at all of the things they were checking.  I also got a bit nauseous with the pressing of the ultrasound.  I think it was just y'all, trying to say "Hey, leave us alone in here, stop poking around with that disturbing wand", so you sent signals to make me ill.  Just like all the times when you let me know you didn't like the food I was eating.  As we've discussed in previous posts, you liked high quality gourmet food, as evidenced by our birthday lunch with my parents at The Parlor and the many delicious meals we had in Las Vegas with your Aunt Manda, Uncle Kevin, Aunt Leah and Uncle Pete.  After those meals, I was never nauseous in the slightest.

Yesterday also marked the one year anniversary of the beginning of both the happiest and the darkest 30 day period in my entire life.  We shared your ultrasound photos with family and friends and I felt your activity level increase.  We got ready to host Christmas Eve dinner, and 3 days later, I was in the hospital on bedrest, fighting to preserve the pregnancy, praying for another uneventful day, and another and another.  But, as we all know, you arrived at the 24-week mark and your tiny bodies were woefully underprepared to tackle life on the outside.  By January 12, you were both gone.

This week, I came down with bronchitis.  Your father and I have both been battling sickness recently.  Two weeks ago, he was sick all weekend, lying in the bed.  I don't know if he had the flu or a colitis flare up or just mental fatigue.  This broken-heartedness is impacting both of us physically.  Daddy said he read somewhere that grief stricken parents are always battling illnesses, or something to that effect.  I admit I didn't pay attention to him because I absolutely detest being sick.  With the exception of our time in the hospital, my only other stint was an emergency room visit after I fell down the cellar stairs at Nana's, resulting in a mild concussion.  But, another grieving Mom wrote something in her blog along similar lines.  I'm afraid my mental acuity is less than sharp tonight, so I'm not up to quoting it, or even describing the gist of her post.

Your canine brother Ike is completely simpatico with my bronchitis.  He has lain in the bed with me all day today, even forgoing his dinner tonight.  He can't get close enough to me, he is trying to comfort my soul.  Your canine sister is lying on the floor, she keeps sniffing the air.  Perhaps she senses y'all are visiting us.  Perhaps your Tante Jayne brought you for a visit, as she was always the family nursemaid, taking care of at least 3 generations.  Make that 4 now that she's looking after the 2 of you.  And, yes, Tante, I know I should be taking your famous concoction of honey and butter to kick this bronchitis.

I spoke with Daddy, he was supposed to get together with my SIG, Chloe's momma tonight.  Ironically, SIG has also come down with bronchitis.  We are forever linked in a horrendous way, but I find it comforting to have her with me on our grief journeys.  He may see her briefly tomorrow before he leaves Alaska.

Darling Shelby and Dalton, Momma is signing off for now.  Hopefully, this weekend, we will put up the Christmas tree.  I have 3 ornaments for you, the ones I bought in Alaska in April and the one your grandparents Bones gave us.  I hope I can find all of them, I've been more than disorganized these past few months.

All my love - Momma