Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The Coat

It was winter.
He had left in the fall.
I was in a new season.

I felt I needed to pick myself up-
Face the world-
The world that needed to start spinning once again.

With the changing season, I needed a new coat- one that would fit the mother who had just delivered babies- full term twins- a mother of two-

I went to a nearby department store and quickly found a coat. It was a perfect fit and I smiled as I brought it to the cashier to pay.

"Will this be all today?"

"Yes" I replied, "I just had twins and was in desperate need to find a new coat that would fit me until I lose the rest of this dreaded baby-weight. This will work great." I said smiling.

"Congratulations!" The unsuspecting cashier replied, "What did you have?"

And that's when I said it- the door had been opened- and with such ease I said,
"I had two boys- but one DIED!"

I remember the look on her face. The horror. She was at a loss.
I remember watching her as she searched for her words- her mouth hung open- searching-
I didn't help her- I stood and watched her- so uncomfortable- I sat and watched-

"I'm so very sorry."

"Thank you." I took my coat and left the department store and as I walked to my car, a sinking feeling crept over me. That poor cashier- just doing her job- I had made her so uncomfortable- why had I done that- why had I felt the need to tell her-

The Coat was one of many trips. Trips to stores to talk about my babies- my baby that DIED- returning the many items that I had received 'doubles' of at showers- Trips for clothing items- casual trips to buy groceries-

I found myself talking about them to strangers- Anyone who would listen.

"I had twins, and one DIED!"

In that moment- as I would say those words- see the horror on their face- I felt good. Something about their reaction- made me feel good-

And then- as I walked away from my victims- I would feel remorse- Why? Why had I felt the need to share my grief with these people- these poor innocent people? Why?

It was in that season that I knew.
I knew I needed help.
And I wasn't sure if the Secret Society knew the answers-

And so I went-
I went to see a counselor-
Someone who spoke to people like me-
Crazy people-
Because... well... I felt crazy!

I didn't know what to do-
I hadn't ever seen a counselor before.
I knew I had an hour and I needed to talk.

I spoke to her-
said his name-
and cried-
I told her about my victims
about what I was doing-
and cried-

She sat and listened as I talked for my hour-
an hour I paid for-
and with each word some of the weight I brought in that room lifted-
But still I needed to know why?

I saw her pause as she pondered my question.
I wasn't sure if this was what was supposed to happen when people see counselors-
but this was what I needed.
I looked at the clock as it ticked-
my hour almost over-
Please- tell me why?

"When a woman is pregnant- it is work. Her body works hard. Her heart works hard. She feeds her baby- she breathes for her baby- she carries the weight of her baby- it is work.
When a woman has a baby- people see that- whether they acknowledge it or not- they know she did that- she went through all of that work to bring that baby into the world- she did that- they can see it.
People can't see what you did. They see your baby and they smile- but they don't know the whole story- they don't know because they can't see him- they don't see what you see.
Perhaps that's why- Perhaps you want them to see."

I got it.
It made sense.
I paid my money and thanked her.
I didn't feel a connection to her and I knew I wouldn't be back.
But my money was well spent.
I had my answer.

I stopped telling strangers.
Stopped saying those words that stole their breath-
I saved them.
Saved them from me.

Yes. I had done that. I carried those babies. I loved them. I breathed for them. I ate for them. I prayed for them.

I had done that.
Been the best mother I could possibly be-
Even though it wasn't enough-
I had done that.
All I could.

And knowing that was enough.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

He is. I am. You are.

He is going to be OK.
I know it.
I feel it.
And it makes me happy.

He is special.
Although he doesn't know it, he healed our heart.
He saved us.
By staying.
By being here.

I am going to be OK.
I know it.
I feel it.
And it makes me happy.

I am special.
God chose me to be the mom of an angel.
A little boy that I was able to see, and touch and feel.
A little spark that I saw beating on the screen.
God chose me to be the mom of an angel.
And though it is a big job, and often times I didn't think I could do it-
He knew I could-
And so I continue to learn- and listen- and grow-
Because of Him
Because of them
Because of you.

You are going to be ok.
I know it.
I feel it.
And it makes me happy.

You are special.
God chose you.
And it will happen.
And you will feel it again.
And it makes me happy.

And so I pray you continue to learn- and listen- and grow-
Because of Him
Because of them
Because of YOU.

-peace (and thank you always- from the bottom of my blessed heart!)

Monday, January 4, 2010

How is he?

He keeps me up more than the others-
I wonder what's behind his words-
his thoughts-
his eyes-
I wish I could know what he thinks about-
and sometimes he gives me a look into what I long to know...

How is he?

He's been raised a singleton- a twinless twin- with a sister 15 months younger that is often mistaken for his twin.
He's always had company-
a built in playgroup-
and yet he is my quiet one, my thinker,
and I wonder...

How is he?

Today was the first day back to school and while he normally is bubbling with excitement, today he didn't want to go.
He didn't want to play with his 'normal' group-
and that's o.k.
But he seemed so sad...

How is he?

I worried about him all day
Don't worry- they said- it's just kids going back after being home so long-
the new toys- his siblings at home playing- it's just kids...

Is it?

He came home and I asked him.
I asked him about his friends and he said he spent his recess with Andrew.
It didn't cross my mind- not even for a moment as I asked him about this new friend I hadn't heard him mention before.

But I had heard him mention him.

"My brother mom. The one who died."

I felt my eyes begin to well and prayed that they wouldn't give me up- that he wouldn't see me cry. He hasn't seen me cry in so long for his brother- A memory he has probably long since forgotten...

"I went on a walk- just he and I on the mountain of snow. I think I'll play with Tyler tomorrow."

Raising children is hard. I don't want my children to be the smartest, or the most popular, but I want them to be happy. Happy and full- and to know beyond a shadow of a doubt how special they are- how much I treasure every thing about them- how they are so very, very loved- I know they feel it and still I wonder...

How is he?

Most of the time happy. Most of the time bubbling with excitement and laughing at the days-

But sometimes I watch him pause- and I make assumptions- and I get so angry- so angry that he can't go on walks with Andrew where others can see the two of them. Angry that he is a twin without his twin. Angry that I have to guess what he's thinking- when his eyes get quiet-

My thinker-
Am I angry? Or just sad?

I hold onto these things. These pieces. I want so much to read into all of it- to know- to know beyond a shadow of a doubt- that he's o.k. That he is full. That he doesn't want for anything- for anyone-

How is he?

Right now, I just don't know. So I will hug him and kiss him and always tell him how much I love him and how special he is. For right now he is fine- sleeping and dreaming about his new pet fish- the walk with Andrew- perhaps forgotten-

Perhaps forgotten by him-
but not his mother.