My life is a little different these days. Grief counseling with my Therapist every three weeks, Miscarriage & Infant Loss Support Group the 2nd Thursday of every month, making time everyday to meditate and be alone with my thoughts. Of all the things I thought I would be when I grew up, being the mother to one living child and two deceased children is not something that I ever imagined. I never imagined that while I was Christmas shopping I would have to buy votive candles to light in my dead children's honor, or buy angel wing ornaments, or stuff two of my children's stocking with donations to March of Dimes instead of toys. This is not what I thought my family would look like.
I love my family. Micah is the best husband, partner and co-parent I could have ever asked for. Gwenevere is a ball of joy, energy, fun, love, excitement, intelligence, giggles, and sweetness. I have always wanted to have a daughter, not that I have anything against boys. But I love my mother and I wanted a relationship like that with my own daughter. I got my wish and so much more when Gwenevere was born. No matter how wonderful and perfect the three of us are together, I can't ignore the gaping hole. James and Penelope are not with us.
I can't help but let my mind wander into the dangerous zone of what ifs. What would my family look like if the twins were here. Would they even have been born yet? My official twin due date is just eight days away. If they were here I'm sure we would be crazy busy. Three children in diapers, two infants breastfeeding, twice the middle of the night feedings, twice the crying, twice the stress, twice the joy. I'll never really know what that life would have looked like, I can only dream.
My life now is different than it was three months ago. While most of the changes have come with pain, there are some good things that have started to glimmer through the hurt. I am not the same mother to Gwenevere that I was for the first twenty months of her life. I give her more hugs, kisses and cuddles. I sit and read with her more often. I stare at her beautiful face and find myself tearing up at her mere existence. She is a miracle and I can't believe I am lucky enough to be her mother. Losing Penelope and James was awful and I wish they were still here. But they are gone. I have to believe that their short life had purpose. I don't yet know what that complete purpose is. I do know that some of their purpose was to make me a different kind of mother. I am a mother that loves with all of my heart and then some. I take nothing for granted. I am more patient, more attentive. I never would have thought it was possible, but I love my daughter more. A new part of my heart was awakened with the death of my son and daughter. Without their brief time in my life I wouldn't be the person I am today.