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The ease with which I speak about the boys now startles me.  I started this job 6 and 1/2 months after Zoey was born.  Except for one person, no one knew that she wasn’t my first child.  I could have easily sweep that part of life under the rug and referenced only her when people asked me about my life, my loves and my losses. 

But I didn’t.

There was a time that I couldn’t even speak their names.  I would choke up and the tears would come and it was just easier not to try.  It took me a good 10 minutes to tell our therapist they were called, “Joshua and Owen.”  There was a time when I wouldn’t write their names even here on my blog where I’ve written a lot about myself and my life, my loves and my losses.

Today I found myself in the hallway, talking easily about how I never could see “parts” on my ultrasounds.  I never did see what made the boys…you know…boys….I could see their arms, legs, beating heartbeats…hell, I could have practically done all of Zoey’s ultrasounds without the aid of the technician but I never did see “parts.”  I recently watched that episode of “Friends” where Rachel and Ross find out they are having a girl and she cries, “I DON’T SEE IT…”  I about died laughing because that was me.

But I spoke about the boys with an ease I would have never thought possible.  I miss them and I still long for them and I love them but it’s getting easier.

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I was visiting my mother and we took the baby out to dinner on Saturday night.  We walked into the restaurant and the hostess asked me, “is it going to eat people food?”

I smiled and said, “yes, my DAUGHTER is not a chihuahua – she does eat “people” food…but no, she doesn’t need a menu if that’s what you are asking….”

I about died laughing…

Last night I did something I swore I would never do….I got frustrated with Zoey.  She’s been sick with a cold (or she’s teething) and the combination of trying to crawl/cruise/walk has made my normal sleep-through-the-night baby wake up at 2:30 and 4 every morning for the last 3 nights.  Last night, she refused to go to sleep at her normal bedtime of 8pm.  Finally, at 9pm, after nursing her, reading to her, rocking her, singing to her, and then lather, rinse, repeat!  I snatched her up, cradled her in my arms and snapped, “GO. TO. SLEEP” and proceeded to to the bounce and walk from many months earlier…finally she settled down to go to sleep only to pop back up at 2:30, wide awake and ready to play…sigh…

I was so upset with myself that I snapped at her…I cherish every second I have with her because 3 days a week she’s with daycare and 2 days a week she’s with Hubby…I get her after work and on the weekends and I hate to think that time is spent growling at her because she’s tired…she can’t help it, she’s a baby! 

And she’s my only living child.  I know my experience as a baby lost mama makes me have a heightened sense of consciousness when it comes to spending time with her and trying to do right by her…I feel like I have more than my fair share of “the feeling guilties…”  I remember before Zoey was born but after the boys died, I would watch people with their kids.  I would see some dad scream at his child and think, “do you not understand how lucky you are?  Why would you scream at that child?  He’s alive and living and you are so fucking lucky you don’t even know!!!”  I think I even wrote about it on Surviving Baby…

I know, I know, get over it…it won’t be the last time I snap but by dog, I hated myself more when I dropped her at school this morning…

I need a glass of wine…

 

 

I had to laugh at the post on one of my favorite blogs today.  My Bittersweet Life wrote about how she was forgetting to blog now that she had her little boy.  She felt she didn’t have as much to write about (or the time to do it).  I’ve been feeling like that lately. 

Before I lost the boys, I often wondered, “what the hell do people blog about?  Nobody can really think their life is that interesting that they would have readers?  Really?”  Then I lost the boys and I realized that most people don’t blog for readers, they blog for themselves.  It’s the same reason people write journals (which, I must tell you, I’ve never been good at).  It’s not that bloggers are self-involved (as I had previously believed) but that they have a need to write and they don’t have a day job that allows them to do it.  I used to write on Surviving Baby and Belly almost daily.

That being said, I’m finding myself with less and less to write/complain about on this blog.  Belly has evolved from a place of sadness to one of worry to finally, one of happiness and joy.  Sprinkled in with all of that is a sense of loss, a fierce need not to forget the boys and desire to tell the world about my gorgeous girl. 

I guess I need to sit back and evaluate what I want to accomplish with this blog…and Fall seems the perfect time to do it…changing leaves, changing words…

For the last 5 years, life has been hectic and topsy-turvy.  We got married, moved to a new city, got new jobs, got pregnant, got blind-sided with the loss of the boys, got diagnosed with BT, bought a house, had multiple miscarriages, got laid off, went to marriage counseling, got a new job, got pregnant, got another new job, got doped up on antidepressants to survive the pregnancy, had a gorgeous little girl, got fired and got a new job. 

That’s a lot for two people to handle with grace and acceptance that this is the path that the universe had laid out for us but we’ve done it.

Today, on my birthday, I rejoice in quiet status quo and the knowledge that if my husband and I have survived the last 5 years together, we can survive the next 45 years together.  I’m aware that I’m one lucky bitch and I am grateful.

But I must say, I would like a couple of years of little or no drama…