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.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
6 months and 3 weeks
Happy 6 month and 3 week birthday Shelby and Dalton.
Or, happy 3 month birthday, according to what was your estimated due date. I know I'm probably way obsessed with each week. I think back to when I was pregnant with you and counting off each week. What I would give to have made it to 37 weeks with you, which would have put your birthday on April 4. Wednesdays are hard for me, as are Sundays and Thursdays. I was watching the "new" Dallas on TV tonight, the character Christopher Ewing just found out his wife is 9 weeks pregnant with twins. Was that y'all saying "hi"? Seems like I keep hearing about more twins, everywhere I look, everywhere I go.
It will be a short post tonight, nothing really new to add. If you sent the clear skies, I thank you, for hopefully they will last throughout the night and Abby won't get all freaked out by potential storms, wind and thunder.
Momma loves you
Or, happy 3 month birthday, according to what was your estimated due date. I know I'm probably way obsessed with each week. I think back to when I was pregnant with you and counting off each week. What I would give to have made it to 37 weeks with you, which would have put your birthday on April 4. Wednesdays are hard for me, as are Sundays and Thursdays. I was watching the "new" Dallas on TV tonight, the character Christopher Ewing just found out his wife is 9 weeks pregnant with twins. Was that y'all saying "hi"? Seems like I keep hearing about more twins, everywhere I look, everywhere I go.
It will be a short post tonight, nothing really new to add. If you sent the clear skies, I thank you, for hopefully they will last throughout the night and Abby won't get all freaked out by potential storms, wind and thunder.
Momma loves you
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Sorta Better Today
Tuesday July 24, 2012
My babies Shelby and Dalton,
I always refer to you that way as that was your birth order. Just like I always have to place your things in the "correct order" in my minds eye. I always put Shelby's things on the left and Dalton's on the right as that was how you were in my womb. I found out Samuel and Gabriel's mom does the same thing. Must be a twin thing.
Today was slightly better than yesterday. I went to get the car serviced, then had quite a bit of time before meeting my friend for lunch, so I went to Tempe Marketplace. The JCPenney didn't open until 10, so I then drove over past Target but didn't really feel like going in there. Ulta wasn't open until 10 either, but I noticed Ross was open, so I went in there to look for baby clothes for the project we're doing for the MISS Foundation International Random Acts of Kindness Day this Friday. I really don't care for Ross, never shop there and always feel icky walking in there. I sorted through the racks and found several multi-packs of onesies. I picked out several, then I circled again and there was the most unbelievable item hanging on the rack ~ a University of Texas Longhorns onesie. I couldn't believe it! Given our location, I would not have been at all surprised if it were ASU or U of A, but a Longhorn onesie?!?!? REALLY?! I of course snatched it up. It was only $1.99!! I really think it was a little sign from y'all that you liked what we're planning to do for Friday. I know neither your Daddy nor I went to UT, but I just can't explain why I like UT so much, but once I moved from Texas, I LOVE the Longhorns. Maybe it's because I love Bevo so much, he's the most beautiful longhorn and such a gorgeous symbol of our state. Your Daddy just doesn't understand it, but he doesn't have to. In our house, you would have learned all about Allison logic. It's what Daddy calls it when I get my mind stuck on something having to be a certain way, and although it defies all rational thought, it MUST happen or be done that way.
Short post today, but just checking in with you and sending my love.
My babies Shelby and Dalton,
I always refer to you that way as that was your birth order. Just like I always have to place your things in the "correct order" in my minds eye. I always put Shelby's things on the left and Dalton's on the right as that was how you were in my womb. I found out Samuel and Gabriel's mom does the same thing. Must be a twin thing.
Today was slightly better than yesterday. I went to get the car serviced, then had quite a bit of time before meeting my friend for lunch, so I went to Tempe Marketplace. The JCPenney didn't open until 10, so I then drove over past Target but didn't really feel like going in there. Ulta wasn't open until 10 either, but I noticed Ross was open, so I went in there to look for baby clothes for the project we're doing for the MISS Foundation International Random Acts of Kindness Day this Friday. I really don't care for Ross, never shop there and always feel icky walking in there. I sorted through the racks and found several multi-packs of onesies. I picked out several, then I circled again and there was the most unbelievable item hanging on the rack ~ a University of Texas Longhorns onesie. I couldn't believe it! Given our location, I would not have been at all surprised if it were ASU or U of A, but a Longhorn onesie?!?!? REALLY?! I of course snatched it up. It was only $1.99!! I really think it was a little sign from y'all that you liked what we're planning to do for Friday. I know neither your Daddy nor I went to UT, but I just can't explain why I like UT so much, but once I moved from Texas, I LOVE the Longhorns. Maybe it's because I love Bevo so much, he's the most beautiful longhorn and such a gorgeous symbol of our state. Your Daddy just doesn't understand it, but he doesn't have to. In our house, you would have learned all about Allison logic. It's what Daddy calls it when I get my mind stuck on something having to be a certain way, and although it defies all rational thought, it MUST happen or be done that way.
Short post today, but just checking in with you and sending my love.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Rough Days
My darlings,
Your momma is struggling enormously of late. I sit around and mope and eat. I feel sad, but I'm not crying. I start to cry, then stop. I'm so lonely. Your daddy I think is experiencing many of the same feelings. You would have been 6 1/2 months old now based on your arrival date, or just about 3 months based on your estimated due date. The MISS Foundation's International Random Acts of Kindness Day is this Friday, I have no idea what to do. I think Chloe's momma Nikki is going to take some things to the NICU where Chloe was born. Neither your father nor I can stomach the thought of walking in to the NICU where you spent your precious short lives. Michelle teamed up with Circle K to give away free drinks at 1 location, in memory of Brandon. I just don't know what to do. I'm trying to be so conservative with our money, but I want to do something for you.
Today was an especially rough day. I dropped Daddy off at the airport, he's off to North Texas for the week. After that, I was going to go do the special promotion at the casino. Stopped for gas along the way, used the wrong WEX card to fill up the POS company car (Daddy still had the old one from his previous car). Finally figured it out. Went to the casino, wound up locking myself out of the slot promotion as I was entering the wrong PIN. Came home, stopped by the bank to withdraw my UI funds, found out there wasn't as much available as I thought. There was just a series of wrong events all morning long.
The monsoon is upon us and as you probably know, your canine sister Abby is terribly frightened by thunderstorms. We left her last Saturday to go to a birthday party. When we came home, we found she had lost her mind because of what we can only imagine was a horrific storm with tons of thunder, and she tore up the house. Your Daddy was so mad at her. Luckily, she didn't touch any of your things that are irreplaceable, as I think Daddy might have lost HIS mind. But, she dug a 4' x 6' hole in the drywall in the laundry room, doing the most extensive damage there, pulling out insulation, and even chewing on the studs, the molding and the door. If she had only concentrated on that room, she would possibly have been able to chew her way in to the garage and may have either died from the heat, or gone through the outside wall and escaped our home. Or, had she continued vertically on that wall, she may have attacked the wiring and either electrocuted herself or started a fire. I don't know what I'd have done if we had gotten a phone call from the alarm company that our house was on fire. The party we had to go to was about an hour away from our house. Luckily, none of those things happened, but she also attacked the moldings on the left sides of the guest bedroom door and the guest bath door. We can probably repair the guest bath door molding and door, but the mess in the laundry room and the molding on the guest bedroom and both sides of our master bedroom door will have to be fully replaced, along with some repairs to the drywall on the left side of our master bedroom door. Of course, in addition to the physical damages Abby did to the house, I worry about the impact on her health from swallowing all that drywall and insulation. I simply could not bear it if I lost either Abby or Ike this year. SIGH. Just one thing after another.
While we were at that party, I saw an expression of such fierce longing and emptiness cross your father's face as he watched the wife of a lifelong friend read a book to the youngest of her three children that I just started crying. I was such a mess at that party, I couldn't wait to come home, but we had to put in an appearance. And of course, the guest of honor was almost an hour late to his own surprise party. Another reason your Daddy and I both detest surprise parties and agree to never give each other one.
That simple act of reading a storybook to a toddler, the joyfulness of which we may never experience with a child of our own. Dalton, I'm sorry we didn't read to you. We were just in such shock that I don't think we realized we should have spent every waking hour divided between your and your sister's rooms. To hell with recovering from my c-section surgery, we should have spent every minute with you. We were so optimistic that you both would have made it, you were ahead of the curve for your gestational age and you were moving around a lot and vocal when you first arrived, we thought we could beat the odds. After we lost you, we did spend more time with your sister, and I apologize to you for not having more time with you. Shelby, we read to you from the Bible and from the Oceania and Holland America cruise brochures that arrived in the mail. We were going to take you on a Mediterranean cruise as soon as you were old enough and strong enough to travel internationally.
We took your grandpa to the Diamondbacks/Astros game yesterday for his birthday. While we were there, your Daddy and I observed this precious young woman in an electric wheelchair, being pushed by her family as she had so many physical and mental challenges, she was unable to even complete the simple task of pushing the button to steer her wheelchair. Your Daddy and I exchanged looks, both thinking what if that would have been your fate had you survived being born at only 24 weeks? Would they have deemed you medically fragile? Would we never have gotten to show you the Amalfi coast and other beautiful things in this world because you were medically fragile? Would we have watched you grow and mature physically, but also had to endure knowing you were there physically but you would never speak a complete sentence or swim a lap in the pool or catch a baseball or tie your own shoes?
These and so many more questions haunt your Daddy and I on a daily basis and will probably continue to do so as long as there is breath in our bodies and our minds are capable of thought.
Your momma loves and misses you.
Your momma is struggling enormously of late. I sit around and mope and eat. I feel sad, but I'm not crying. I start to cry, then stop. I'm so lonely. Your daddy I think is experiencing many of the same feelings. You would have been 6 1/2 months old now based on your arrival date, or just about 3 months based on your estimated due date. The MISS Foundation's International Random Acts of Kindness Day is this Friday, I have no idea what to do. I think Chloe's momma Nikki is going to take some things to the NICU where Chloe was born. Neither your father nor I can stomach the thought of walking in to the NICU where you spent your precious short lives. Michelle teamed up with Circle K to give away free drinks at 1 location, in memory of Brandon. I just don't know what to do. I'm trying to be so conservative with our money, but I want to do something for you.
Today was an especially rough day. I dropped Daddy off at the airport, he's off to North Texas for the week. After that, I was going to go do the special promotion at the casino. Stopped for gas along the way, used the wrong WEX card to fill up the POS company car (Daddy still had the old one from his previous car). Finally figured it out. Went to the casino, wound up locking myself out of the slot promotion as I was entering the wrong PIN. Came home, stopped by the bank to withdraw my UI funds, found out there wasn't as much available as I thought. There was just a series of wrong events all morning long.
The monsoon is upon us and as you probably know, your canine sister Abby is terribly frightened by thunderstorms. We left her last Saturday to go to a birthday party. When we came home, we found she had lost her mind because of what we can only imagine was a horrific storm with tons of thunder, and she tore up the house. Your Daddy was so mad at her. Luckily, she didn't touch any of your things that are irreplaceable, as I think Daddy might have lost HIS mind. But, she dug a 4' x 6' hole in the drywall in the laundry room, doing the most extensive damage there, pulling out insulation, and even chewing on the studs, the molding and the door. If she had only concentrated on that room, she would possibly have been able to chew her way in to the garage and may have either died from the heat, or gone through the outside wall and escaped our home. Or, had she continued vertically on that wall, she may have attacked the wiring and either electrocuted herself or started a fire. I don't know what I'd have done if we had gotten a phone call from the alarm company that our house was on fire. The party we had to go to was about an hour away from our house. Luckily, none of those things happened, but she also attacked the moldings on the left sides of the guest bedroom door and the guest bath door. We can probably repair the guest bath door molding and door, but the mess in the laundry room and the molding on the guest bedroom and both sides of our master bedroom door will have to be fully replaced, along with some repairs to the drywall on the left side of our master bedroom door. Of course, in addition to the physical damages Abby did to the house, I worry about the impact on her health from swallowing all that drywall and insulation. I simply could not bear it if I lost either Abby or Ike this year. SIGH. Just one thing after another.
While we were at that party, I saw an expression of such fierce longing and emptiness cross your father's face as he watched the wife of a lifelong friend read a book to the youngest of her three children that I just started crying. I was such a mess at that party, I couldn't wait to come home, but we had to put in an appearance. And of course, the guest of honor was almost an hour late to his own surprise party. Another reason your Daddy and I both detest surprise parties and agree to never give each other one.
That simple act of reading a storybook to a toddler, the joyfulness of which we may never experience with a child of our own. Dalton, I'm sorry we didn't read to you. We were just in such shock that I don't think we realized we should have spent every waking hour divided between your and your sister's rooms. To hell with recovering from my c-section surgery, we should have spent every minute with you. We were so optimistic that you both would have made it, you were ahead of the curve for your gestational age and you were moving around a lot and vocal when you first arrived, we thought we could beat the odds. After we lost you, we did spend more time with your sister, and I apologize to you for not having more time with you. Shelby, we read to you from the Bible and from the Oceania and Holland America cruise brochures that arrived in the mail. We were going to take you on a Mediterranean cruise as soon as you were old enough and strong enough to travel internationally.
We took your grandpa to the Diamondbacks/Astros game yesterday for his birthday. While we were there, your Daddy and I observed this precious young woman in an electric wheelchair, being pushed by her family as she had so many physical and mental challenges, she was unable to even complete the simple task of pushing the button to steer her wheelchair. Your Daddy and I exchanged looks, both thinking what if that would have been your fate had you survived being born at only 24 weeks? Would they have deemed you medically fragile? Would we never have gotten to show you the Amalfi coast and other beautiful things in this world because you were medically fragile? Would we have watched you grow and mature physically, but also had to endure knowing you were there physically but you would never speak a complete sentence or swim a lap in the pool or catch a baseball or tie your own shoes?
These and so many more questions haunt your Daddy and I on a daily basis and will probably continue to do so as long as there is breath in our bodies and our minds are capable of thought.
Your momma loves and misses you.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Hello Shelby and Dalton,
It's been a week since my last post, but I would like to post today. I don't have much new to add, the week was busy, Mariko, Rafi and Leo were with us from Thursday through Monday morning. Your Daddy is in Albuquerque this week, coming home tomorrow night. It's been very hot and humid this week, more reminiscent of Houston or New Orleans than our typically dry desert environs. There's a certain numbness and paralysis I've been feeling lately. I've been trying to be a good housekeeper and keep things fairly neat, clean and organized, but all I do is sit around, watching television and surfing on this stupid computer. My life is in such a holding pattern right now. I was supposed to be unimaginably busy taking care of the two of you, feedings, baths, diaper changes, mountains of laundry. Instead, there is just this gross void, this terrible emptiness. I am supposed to be getting healthy (read losing weight) and preparing my body to try again in a few months. I can't even succeed at that. My weight moves up instead of down. I first started tracking my weight in February and I have GAINED 12 lbs since then, those are 12 lbs I should have LOST, not GAINED. What is wrong with me? My only excuse is that I am looking to food and drink for comfort.
Everywhere I look, it seems like there are twins. My friend just announced her other daughter is now expecting twins. Her younger daughter had twins in March, we had been tracking each other's pregnancies until everything exploded in my pregnancy. She now has healthy twin grandsons, with another set of twins on the way. She was so kind to me, sending me memory boxes that she creates for her local hospital. I feel I should send something to her for her grandchildren. There is also this stupid commercial for coupons, where the cretinous couple is pretending they're doing an ad for online dating, but it's actually for online couponing, and the husband talks about how he printed off coupons as a romantic surprise for her, then she says "that's how the twins were born".... it's so terribly annoying, I switch the channel each time it comes on.
My babies, my heart is aching with emptiness and longing for you.
It's been a week since my last post, but I would like to post today. I don't have much new to add, the week was busy, Mariko, Rafi and Leo were with us from Thursday through Monday morning. Your Daddy is in Albuquerque this week, coming home tomorrow night. It's been very hot and humid this week, more reminiscent of Houston or New Orleans than our typically dry desert environs. There's a certain numbness and paralysis I've been feeling lately. I've been trying to be a good housekeeper and keep things fairly neat, clean and organized, but all I do is sit around, watching television and surfing on this stupid computer. My life is in such a holding pattern right now. I was supposed to be unimaginably busy taking care of the two of you, feedings, baths, diaper changes, mountains of laundry. Instead, there is just this gross void, this terrible emptiness. I am supposed to be getting healthy (read losing weight) and preparing my body to try again in a few months. I can't even succeed at that. My weight moves up instead of down. I first started tracking my weight in February and I have GAINED 12 lbs since then, those are 12 lbs I should have LOST, not GAINED. What is wrong with me? My only excuse is that I am looking to food and drink for comfort.
Everywhere I look, it seems like there are twins. My friend just announced her other daughter is now expecting twins. Her younger daughter had twins in March, we had been tracking each other's pregnancies until everything exploded in my pregnancy. She now has healthy twin grandsons, with another set of twins on the way. She was so kind to me, sending me memory boxes that she creates for her local hospital. I feel I should send something to her for her grandchildren. There is also this stupid commercial for coupons, where the cretinous couple is pretending they're doing an ad for online dating, but it's actually for online couponing, and the husband talks about how he printed off coupons as a romantic surprise for her, then she says "that's how the twins were born".... it's so terribly annoying, I switch the channel each time it comes on.
My babies, my heart is aching with emptiness and longing for you.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Thursday July 5, 2012
Darling Shelby and Dalton,
Yesterday was the 4th of July, yet another holiday I will now dread. Yesterday was your 6 month birthday, and the day you would have been 10 weeks old, had you arrived on your original due date. We haven't really been big July 4th people, I honestly don't think we've been to a commercial fireworks display in at least 7 years. Your canine sister Abby hates fireworks and thunder, gets so terribly freaked out, I refuse to leave her alone if I know there is going to be a storm. I kiddingly tell her what kind of hunting dog would she have been if she's scared of thunder, fireworks, gunshots and other loud noises?
Yesterday, your Daddy had an especially rough day. I myself have been feeling particularly numb of late, but your Daddy has been overwhelmingly sad and depressed. We were supposed to be getting ready to have our friends Mariko, Rafael and Leo visit from California. They too were so excited to meet you. On their 2011 Christmas card, it was addressed to Jamie, Allison, Abby, Ike and baby cousins. That was you. We hadn't found out your sex at that point, so they just called you baby cousins. At the time, we thought everything was going to progress normally and were waiting to be surprised at your April (or even late March, looking back) arrival. Anyway, instead of cleaning and getting the house ready, your Daddy started feeling sick. He thinks it's a reaction from the local anesthesia he had on Tuesday during a dermatological procedure. I thought perhaps it was a psychosomatic reaction to the loss and heartwrenching sadness he feels since you are not with us. Either way, he was feverish and achy most of the day.
Your Grammy and Grampy were over for dinner. We were supposed to have spent the afternoon in the pool, but the weather did not cooperate. We had heavy rain and storms, it was unseasonably cool and cloudy for July in Arizona. I was thinking perhaps the storms were y'all's way of saying hello, since it was so atypical. So, we sat around and didn't do much. We grilled sausages and had sausage and pepper sandwiches for dinner. We watched the Rangers on TV, who lost to the stupid White Sox. No left handed pitchers in that game. We had just sat down to eat, your Daddy was in our bedroom. He called out to me. I got up and went in to him. He hugged me to him, he was crying and burning up with fever, his body felt like he'd been basting in the typical 115 degree weather for hours as he was on fire. He had called to me so that we could commemorate the exact times at which you made your entrance in to the world, 6:11 and 6:12PM according to the hospital, although your Daddy says he thought it was more like 6:15 for Shelby and 6:18 for Dalton, according to his watch. I myself was quite out of it at that time, although I do remember hearing both of you cry. I foolishly took those first cries as such a good sign, as all the doctors and nurses had warned us not to expect to hear you cry as you were too little. When I heard that beautiful music, I thought "There they are, feisty and spirited, just like me, they're going to make it". Ha, I was so bitterly utterly and completely wrong.
Last week, I don't know what came over me, but I went on Neiman Marcus.com and selected several 6 month baby outfits for each of you, some jeans and polo shirts, onesies with animals and trucks for Dalton, jeans and adorable little dresses for Shelby, a Gucci onesie for each of you, with the words "Made in Italy" on it. So appropriate for although you weren't conceived in Italy, you would have had so much Italian spirit and vitality. I "virtually spent" an obscene amount of money on 6 imaginary outfits for each of you.
That's it for now my darlings, I must go and finish cleaning and getting ready for our houseguests. All my love. Momma
Darling Shelby and Dalton,
Yesterday was the 4th of July, yet another holiday I will now dread. Yesterday was your 6 month birthday, and the day you would have been 10 weeks old, had you arrived on your original due date. We haven't really been big July 4th people, I honestly don't think we've been to a commercial fireworks display in at least 7 years. Your canine sister Abby hates fireworks and thunder, gets so terribly freaked out, I refuse to leave her alone if I know there is going to be a storm. I kiddingly tell her what kind of hunting dog would she have been if she's scared of thunder, fireworks, gunshots and other loud noises?
Yesterday, your Daddy had an especially rough day. I myself have been feeling particularly numb of late, but your Daddy has been overwhelmingly sad and depressed. We were supposed to be getting ready to have our friends Mariko, Rafael and Leo visit from California. They too were so excited to meet you. On their 2011 Christmas card, it was addressed to Jamie, Allison, Abby, Ike and baby cousins. That was you. We hadn't found out your sex at that point, so they just called you baby cousins. At the time, we thought everything was going to progress normally and were waiting to be surprised at your April (or even late March, looking back) arrival. Anyway, instead of cleaning and getting the house ready, your Daddy started feeling sick. He thinks it's a reaction from the local anesthesia he had on Tuesday during a dermatological procedure. I thought perhaps it was a psychosomatic reaction to the loss and heartwrenching sadness he feels since you are not with us. Either way, he was feverish and achy most of the day.
Your Grammy and Grampy were over for dinner. We were supposed to have spent the afternoon in the pool, but the weather did not cooperate. We had heavy rain and storms, it was unseasonably cool and cloudy for July in Arizona. I was thinking perhaps the storms were y'all's way of saying hello, since it was so atypical. So, we sat around and didn't do much. We grilled sausages and had sausage and pepper sandwiches for dinner. We watched the Rangers on TV, who lost to the stupid White Sox. No left handed pitchers in that game. We had just sat down to eat, your Daddy was in our bedroom. He called out to me. I got up and went in to him. He hugged me to him, he was crying and burning up with fever, his body felt like he'd been basting in the typical 115 degree weather for hours as he was on fire. He had called to me so that we could commemorate the exact times at which you made your entrance in to the world, 6:11 and 6:12PM according to the hospital, although your Daddy says he thought it was more like 6:15 for Shelby and 6:18 for Dalton, according to his watch. I myself was quite out of it at that time, although I do remember hearing both of you cry. I foolishly took those first cries as such a good sign, as all the doctors and nurses had warned us not to expect to hear you cry as you were too little. When I heard that beautiful music, I thought "There they are, feisty and spirited, just like me, they're going to make it". Ha, I was so bitterly utterly and completely wrong.
Last week, I don't know what came over me, but I went on Neiman Marcus.com and selected several 6 month baby outfits for each of you, some jeans and polo shirts, onesies with animals and trucks for Dalton, jeans and adorable little dresses for Shelby, a Gucci onesie for each of you, with the words "Made in Italy" on it. So appropriate for although you weren't conceived in Italy, you would have had so much Italian spirit and vitality. I "virtually spent" an obscene amount of money on 6 imaginary outfits for each of you.
That's it for now my darlings, I must go and finish cleaning and getting ready for our houseguests. All my love. Momma
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