Sunday, November 17, 2013

A beautiful disaster

Losing Joshua was and still is the hardest thing I have ever been experienced. It was cruel. Everything was going just as it should. I was having no problems. We had found out it was a boy. We started planning. Picking a name. Everything that we had done after the first 13 weeks with our other children. Things were perfect. We were going to have 6 beautiful children. 4 boys and 2 girl. We had just gotten back from Disney World and we were starting to decorate for Christmas. I don't think there had been a time when we were so happy. It had been a while since everything went right for us. And this was it.  Pregnant and happy with our last child. Then disaster struck. Out of the blue. From no where our whole lives came crushing down on us. My water broke. That one moment realizing that no I was no peeing was the scariest moment of my life. I think I knew that he would not make it at that moment I sat on my bed towel between my legs and cried. I called for Jason and then we headed for the hospital. I was sent to another hospital where my dr was and by morning it was confirmed that my water was broken. I was put on meds and given the option to terminate the pregnancy. I was heart broken. I could not give up on my baby. I wanted to give him life. I never got the chance. The choice to carry him to term and give him a chance was taken when my health was at stake. I had to think of my 5 other children and there mother, I couldn't leave them motherless. I had to deliver my baby boy knowing he would not survive birth. My heart was crushed, there was nothing I could do. I never wanted to let him go. I fell into a deep dark hole and had no intention of climbing out of it ever. I acted a good show in front of people but I was dying inside.

Then there was a light. Then two lights. Twin girls. 

I think from the beginning I tried to guard my heart from loving them. It didn't work. I loved them from the moment the line on the stick showed pink. There is no love like the love a mother has for her children. I didn't believe that I would make it to 13 weeks. I did. After that people told me to not worry. That God wouldn't take 2 more children from us. That having two was Gods way of giving me Joshua back what was taken from me. To believe and it will be. To pray and I will be given two beautiful girls. To think good thoughts and good things will follow. They were all lies. Everyone of them lies.

 It was different though I denied what would happen. I put off going in until the morning after. Didn't wake Jason, because well I could have just peed. I mean I was pregnant with twins after all. 

When my dr told me he was admitting me and it was probably not going to be a good outcome. I simply said ok. I thought to myself. I will not give up. I will fight for these children's lives.  And I did. I was offered a termination again. I have learned that is standard and they must offer it to you when the baby is not yet viable. I said no thank you. I believed I would make it. That my babies would be miracles. But a part of me knew. I stopped looking a twin things I would need. I deleted my wish list. I was mentally preparing for what I knew was to come. But still I laid on bed rest and prayed. It was however not meant to be, I think the week between my water braking and labor helped me process what was about to happen and it softened the blow and with that my beautiful happy life had turned into one disaster after another. 

I didn't know how to comfort my children about their brother and sister dying. I didn't know how to not lay in the couch and cry. I didn't know how to live any more. I didn't want to kill myself, but I wished to die. To stop hurting. To stop being so angry. To have happiness back. To really laugh. To stop crying. To be the kind of mother I once was. 

I believe my girls helped me heal. As crazy as that seems I know I did not truly begin to heal from Joshua's death until I lost the girls too. It's terrible to say. I know. I am greatful though. I may have never gotten the help I needed for my depression if I had not lost the girls. It makes me sad that I had to lose them to heal. 

I loved all three of them so deeply. As deep as for my living children. I love to talk about all three of them. I miss them and speak their names often. 

There is a hole in my heart in my life that will never be filled, but at least now I can sit and look at their pictures and smile at the memories of the few hours I got to hold them in this life. I smile at the memories of them kicking inside me of them rolling around on the ultrasounds. I have very few memories with them, but all of them are good ones. I wish I had more. I wish I was given more time in this life with them. But I know the years I spend without them will be shorter than the eternity I will spend with them. 

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