Vicissitude

"How do you give someone back their innocence? That wonderful sense of perfect safety that only exists for people that have never really had anything bad happen to them. How do you give that back?"

-Laurell K Hamilton

Think back, is there a day you can pin point when you're whole life changed? When you knew that nothing would ever be the same again and life would now forever be divided into two parts. The before and the after. The day I heard the words, "I'm so sorry but there are no heartbeats." was definitely that day for me.

When you're young you have this invincible feeling. Stories about all the bad in the world seem so far away. You think to yourself "Things like that can't happen to me. That just doesn't happen in real life." Then suddenly "real life" smacks you in the face and that sense of innocence you once had is shattered. The day I found out that my twin boys had TTTS (Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome) I didn't understand the magnitude of what it was or how horribly wrong it could all go. I still had that innocence that it would all work out and nothing that awful like the death of one, let alone both of my babies would ever happen to me. It was impossible. Not to say I didn't stress over it. I did. I cried in the shower, I cried in the car, I cried myself to sleep pleading with God to let my babies be okay. But stupid me my main concern was I didn't want them to have to stay in the NICU very long because at the time that was the worst possible outcome. Again, my innocence got the better of me and blinded me to the very real possibility that things would not just work themselves out this time.

Before I knew it however, I was suddenly past 28 weeks and everything was holding steady. Then I was 30 weeks, then 31. I felt like that was it, they were safe. It was all going to be fine.  It was all working itself out. I scheduled my c-section for Nov 12, 2013 and I felt relived. Yet I couldn't get rid of this feeling in my gut telling me to beg her to deliver my boys now. I pushed that feeling away thinking it was my own selfishness because being pregnant had become incredibly uncomfortable. I told myself "no, don't be selfish! The longer they stay safe your belly the better."

Nov 5, 2013 I struggled to drive myself to my last doctor's appointment before my scheduled delivery. I had made it, or so I thought.  The moment I laid on the table and the technician started looking I noticed her face. She moved it around all over my belly, pressing buttons and studying the screen with such focus. I suddenly knew something was wrong. My heart started to race and I thought "God NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! Please!" I saw her face sadden as she turned to me and told me she couldn't find any heartbeats. She left to get the doctor. I asked one of the other nurses for my phone and she told me to wait till the doctor came in. I tried to wait but then I half screamed hysterically "Give me my phone PLEASE!"          

The doctor came in and I thought, "This can be fixed. They can fix this. They aren't gone. It's not over! It can't be." She checked for heartbeats herself and then turned to me and said what I had been pleading with God for her not to say, "I'm so sorry there are no heartbeats". I felt like the floor had come out from under me. My heart instantly shattered and I suddenly realized how very alone I was in this room of strangers.

I text my husband at work, my mind instantly started going through all the things I could have done wrong. Everything I could have done better. How I could have prevented this? I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be anywhere that wasn't here. I didn't want to lose it in front of these strangers. Mostly because I didn't know if I would ever stop crying once I started. They walked me to the labor and delivery part of the hospital and admitted me. I remember looking at the woman with the paper work and watching as they checked "fetal demise". They all said it so matter of factly. No change in either of their faces and I wanted to scream "I lost my babies! They were my boys! My Logan and Liam! How can you not even look sad?!" I wanted them to feel what I felt. I wanted some kind of condolences. Some kind of recognition as to how awful and sad this all was. But she never looked at me. Just filled out the papers and handed them to the lady from my doctor's office.

After that it was all a blur. A sea of people coming and going. Nurses I had met through my pregnancy coming to hug me and say how sorry they were. The condolences I had wanted earlier from the woman with the paperwork were suddenly the last thing I wanted from anyone. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted my husband and my daughter. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. When I finally saw my husband walk through the door I had never loved him more. He was the only person I wanted. He held me and I finally felt like I was safe. Safe to fall apart. Safe to grieve the loss of our beautiful boys.

When they finally wheeled me into surgery all I remember was being cold, tired and wanting nothing more than to collapse and just cry. I didn't think I was gonna make it through by this point. Then suddenly this saying started running through my head, "This too shall pass". That's what I heard in my head over and over. "This too shall pass." I held onto that thought and laid there with my husband holding my hand. The doctors made small talk with each other and laughed. Again I felt that anger that I wanted to scream. Then I felt them pull Logan out. Then Liam. Even though I knew they were gone I waited for a second for the cries. Praying by some miracle they would come... but they never did. It was so quite that it sounded like the whole world stopped. An eerie silence that should have been filled with baby cries and comments about how beautiful they were.

The nurse asked me if I wanted to see them and to this day I regret not saying yes. They rolled me back to my room and as we were coming down the hallway I see my mother in law, brother in law, and sister in law. Heartbroken looks on their faces and my sister in law in tears. Again I wanted to disappear. I have never been good with grief or heartbreak. I was never the person who wanted "support" when something bad happened. I have always preferred solitude in my times of sadness. I know they were there to show they loved my boys and that they were sorry but all I wanted was to be alone.As night time fell I wondered how I was going to be able to sleep as I listened to the lullaby music played each time a baby was born... knowing full well those sweet sounds would never come for my boys.

The next day my 4 year old daughter came to see me. She made everything better while she was there. I held her so tight and wished I could get up out of the bed without any pain and just leave with her. Go anywhere she wanted and just have fun like nothing happened. Instead I said goodbye as she left with her Grandmother and told her I would see her the next day at home. As much as I wanted to leave and just go home I dreaded it just as much. My boys stuff would all be at home waiting for them... things I knew I had to pack back into the boxes and return. The day I was released the lady from the funeral home came for my boys. I had been holding it together till that point but watching a stranger pick up your newborn babies and zip them into what looked like a black duffel bag will make all your willpower to not cry go completely out the window. I buried my face in my husband's chest and cried till she left.

I was not ready to go home, not ready to hear how quite the house was or look at their empty cribs. So instead we went to lunch... fresh out of the hospital from a c section. Looking back it may not have been the best idea but doing something that felt like everyday life, where no one but you knows what you've just been through sounded comforting to me. I wanted to feel normal just for a moment. Though I remember feeling like everyone could tell. Like it was written all over my face that I had just lost my boys. That I was a grieving mother.

Fast forward 3 years later and I now have my beautiful 7 year old daughter and her 16 month old baby sister who I truly believe was chose from Heaven just for us by her big brothers. I fought hard to get to where I am now and though there are days where I'm suddenly thrown back into that room reliving the day I lost that "innocence, that wonderful sense of perfect safety" I am grateful for all the Lord has blessed me with. I am grateful for my wonderful husband who didn't let it break us but rather let it bring us closer together. I am grateful for my living children who I still have on this earth with me. I am grateful for my angel babies, my Logan and Liam for all the journey has taught me. For the person their short lives have made me into. I am grateful for the wonderful mothers I met along the way who have gone through similar events and let me know that I am not alone. Though I wish everyday that I could see my twins again, that I could hold them just one more time, and take just one more picture I know that they are mine and my husband's guiding force now. They are my girls' protectors from up above. They have taught me the meaning to the saying "be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about." They were here such a short time but they have changed me in way that I never expected. And for that I am eternally grateful.