Monday, August 29, 2016


This morning I dropped off my oldest child at Kindergarten.  Wow. I seriously can't believe it.  I remember cradling her as a newborn baby as all the seasoned parents would tell me "Enjoy!  It's goes so fast".  Boy, were they right.  In the blink of an eye my baby is five and half years old and off to school. How did that happen?

I didn't cry at drop off.  I didn't even cry on the ride home.  But as my youngest and I got in house and I said "It's just you and me today kiddo" the tears started to roll.  Tears of sadness, longing, pride, and just feeling overwhelmed.  Sending her off to Kindergarten is definitely bittersweet.  Yes, I struggle with the idea of her being at school all day.  And yes, I will miss her terribly.  But, I am happy to watch her grow up and go through all of these firsts.  Every time we encounter one of these big firsts my heart strings are pulled as I think of my two babies that will never have them.

I saw a meme recently that said "No one ever tells you that the hardest part of parenting is when your children grow up".  I get it, a little.  But not really. It is bittersweet to watch our children grow up and move on and not need us anymore.  But isn't that why we have children?  To watch them grow into amazing people?  I can't disagree more with this statement.  The hardest part of parenting is when your children don't grown up.  When you don't get to send them off to their first day of Kindergarten.  Or help them pull their first loose tooth.  Or drop them off at their first school dance.  Or drop them off at college.  

Yes, it's incredibly hard letting go of our children at these various stages.  I've cried twice already this morning.  But I'm so lucky.  I'm so lucky that my daughter is healthy and alive and going off to Kindergarten.  I'm so lucky that her little sister has turned into a wild toddler seemingly overnight.  These children just keep growing and changing.  And I'm so lucky to be a part of it.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

On the Eve of Your 4th Birthday

My Dearest Penelope & James,

Tomorrow is your fourth birthday.  What I wouldn't give to have you here to celebrate with us.  To watch you open gifts and blow out candles and run around with your friends and family.  I don't really know what our lives would look like had you lived.  But I've pictured it a million times and no matter how crazy it would be, I wish you were here.

Four years ago was my last blissful pregnant day with you.  I grieve the loss of you both.  But I also grieve the loss of who I was then.  The me before the flood of grief, anxiety, depression, insomnia and PTSD.  I was lighter, happier, more innocent. I am not the same person that I was four years ago.  It's hard getting comfortable in new skin.

But now here we are, almost four years later.  I've forged through the deepest depths and come out okay.  Most days are good.  I still think of you and miss you every day.  But life has leveled out.  Your two sisters keep me busy, very busy.  I often wonder how insanely busy our lives would have been with you here.  When I was pregnant with you I never really stopped to worry about how hard it would be to bring home newborn twins with an almost two year old at home.  I just figured we would make it work.  I'm sure we would have.

While losing you both was the worst thing I have experienced, please know that I don't regret you.  Not even for a second.  While it's been hard, extremely hard at times, I am so glad that you are my children.  You have taught me how to love in a whole new way.  A love that is so great that is crosses life and death.  You have taught me my own strength.  That even when I am faced with absolute devastation, I will survive.  You have given me voice for the baby loss community.  There may not be many people listening, but I will always speak of you.  I will not be silent just to make others comfortable.  You are my children and I will always speak of my love for you.  

So Happy 4th Birthday my loves.  I love you from here to eternity.


Tuesday, August 2, 2016

19 Days

As I turned the calendar to August upon returning home from vacation, there it was in bold colorful letters- James and Penelope's 4th Birthday, on August 19th.  My heart sank a little.  Gwenevere was asking me a question as I felt my face getting hot and my eyes filled up with tears.  I couldn't really hear what she was saying and I didn't answer her right away as I thought to myself, "19 more days".

I've celebrated 5 birthdays with Gwenevere and 1 birthday with Victoria so far.  Not to mention 35 of my own.  I love birthdays.  I especially love celebrating a birthday through the eyes of a child.  Gwenevere absolutely adores birthdays. I think it's usually around February when she starts asking when her next birthday is, which isn't of course until December.  The cake, friends, gifts, candy, excitement, birthday wishes, all on this one special day.  Each birthday that we've celebrated is also a time to look back an marvel at how much our child has grown and changed.  It truly is a magical day.

Celebrating a birthday of a deceased child is complicated.  Honestly, it's depressing, but important.  Penelope and James' birthday is not only the day that they were born, but also the day that they died.  So yeah, it's sad.  But it's important to me.  Because while it marks the saddest day in my life it is also the only day that I ever got to spend time with two of my children.  It's the only day that I was able to see their faces, hold their tiny hands and stroke their tiny cheeks.  It's the only day that I was able to say "I love you".  It's the only day that I was able to hold them in my arms. To snuggle them and take in every little feature. It may have been the day that we said goodbye, but it's also the day that we met. That's a day worth celebrating.

This month is hard.  I'm pulled back to that place in time when they were born and died and it hurts.  There still isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss my son and daughter.  I don't think there ever will be.  Like grief tends to do, it ebbs and flows.  I will allow myself a few rough weeks this month.  We'll plan a special day on the 19th with cake and balloons like we do.  I will look at their pictures and cry.  Then I will pull myself together as best as I can and continue to move forward.  I miss them so much, but I can't change the past.  It's only 19 days.