And this morning, I feel hopeful.
Everyone is kicking away inside, and so far today I'm not in labor, whereas at 24 weeks and 2 days last time I was convulsing with pain, not knowing what was going on, with Dr. Gloom and Doom unreachable in surgery. Pedro's water broke later that day.
So this is definitely better than that.
And I've got the PlayGround plays to read and help select over the next two days, so that gives purpose, direction and distraction: all excellent survival tools.
And Mama Ratka arrives tomorrow, which is going to ease all kinds of burdens and tensions.
I thought somehow, though, that passing all these landmarks, these landmines, would also ease some burdens and tensions. And the truth is, I don't think I'm ready to lay down those weights. I feel a great pressure to stop grieving the loss of my sons before the arrival of my daughters, and I just don't think it is going to happen, and I'm not even sure I want it to happen. I'm not ready. I miss my boys profoundly, especially as I'm walking the time frame in which we lost them. I'm not ready for it to be all OK. I don't know if I will ever be, but I am really not ready now.
I have always been a woman capable of vast emotional volume. I will simply have to figure out how to hold both: to feel excitement and optimism over these new lives while allowing the terrible past to remain terrible, allowing the loss to remain real.
Everyone on board? Elevator up...
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my account of the days and months following the loss of our twin boys, Pedro and Archer, at 24 weeks and 4 days.
If you don't know the story of Pedro and Archer...
I decided to pick up this blog with where we currently are in our journey, but if you want to read the story of our sons, Pedro and Archer, and how they came into and left this world, take a look in the Blog Archive: I posted the set of e-mail updates I sent from the hospital and beyond. They chronicle our journey thus far, and are my best attempt to honor our sons and all the wonderful people who have sent us and them positive energy.
Thanks for reading.
Thanks for reading.
Posts
Blog Archive
- July 2008 (6)
- August 2008 (1)
- September 2008 (1)
- November 2008 (9)
- December 2008 (10)
- January 2009 (9)
- February 2009 (5)
- March 2009 (6)
- April 2009 (7)
- May 2009 (4)
- June 2009 (4)
- July 2009 (10)
- August 2009 (5)
- September 2009 (4)
- October 2009 (3)
- November 2009 (2)
- December 2009 (8)
- January 2010 (6)
- February 2010 (14)
- March 2010 (16)
- April 2010 (10)
- May 2010 (10)
- June 2010 (2)
- September 2010 (1)
- December 2010 (1)
About Me
- LJMK
- I'm an actress and a math tutor, recently relocated to the Bay Area after 14 years in NYC. In Feb of 2008 my husband and I conceived twin boys, Pedro and Archer, and on July 30th 2008 we lost them after a battle with pre-term labor. In October of 2009, we again conceived twins, girls this time, and are doing everything we can to carry them to safety.
2 comments:
sending you positive thoughts and love...
Lisa, I hope you can give yourself permission to continue grieving, if that's where you are in the process. It does not diminish your joy for your daughters; on the contrary, I think suppressing your grief would detract more from your joy. I still grieve the loss of my daughter, almost 5 years later and well into my second subsequent pregnancy. For me, it will never be okay that she died, but it did become a whole lot less painful once I had her healthy brother to care for.
We included this quote from Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet" on Delilah's birth and death announcements, and I still think of it often:
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
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