This might be a hard post for me. We’ll see once I get into it.

I have been thinking a lot about how the losses of Felix and Gabriel have affected my first 3 little loves. Not only their new-found expertise on funerals or how they are coping but how it has affected my relationships with them.

Let me just throw it right out there and lay open this wound. Sometimes I wonder if they feel like they aren’t good enough. Or more accurately; I wonder if I make them feel like they aren’t good enough. Let me explain. When we were having trouble getting pregnant (I know – us? The people who have babies 15-18 months apart? Yes, we had trouble getting started.), during one of my less-attractive whining sessions, Brian asked me if he wasn’t enough for me. I was so mad at him at the time but a few days later I really thought about it. Would he be enough for me if God never chose to bless us with children? Of course he would! But all my grief and wishing and wanting had made him feel like he wasn’t enough for me – even though that thought had never crossed my mind.

So, what I’m wondering is, when the kids here me say I wish Felix and Gabriel were here do they feel like I’ve forgotten them? Like it isn’t enough to have them here? Of course I will always long for my sons who went home before I thought they should but that does not mean I would trade them for the ones who are here! That sounds awful but NONE of them are replaceable and that’s that. But how do I make sure Chloe and Dylan and Ezra know that in their heart of hearts? And how do I make sure that I don’t get so wrapped up in my wishing for a complete family on Earth that I end up alienating the little loves of my life who are here with me?

I know this may sound absolutely crazy but grief is a crazy thing and it does crazy things to your head. You know I get a little more open the later in the day it is when I write my posts. I really need to try to stick to my blogging curfew.

All that having been said I really do try to focus on here and now. I am not guaranteed for life to be the same an hour from now let alone tomorrow. I want to cherish every moment I have with them. I want to remember every word they say. I want to read too many bedtime stories. Heck, sometimes I even wish we could all sleep in the same room. All the while trying to balance out the fear of losing someone else. It’s quite a feat.

Anyway, I just felt like it was time to open another window into this grief-beast. It’s a (pardon me, Momma) bitch, plain and simple. Throw in some PMS-ing, still-adjusting-from-pregnancy hormones and you’re really talkin’ crazy! Thanks for listening.

How am I doing 4 months later? It is still day by day. It is still up and down. (as this post, compared to the last one, will show) I sometimes wonder if there is an eruption brewing. Like I’ve stuffed away more grief than I realize and it’s going to blow before too long. There have been some rumblings in the volcano in recent days.

My husband and I are emotionally spent. We are stressed. We are trying to take care of each other but it’s hard when you are struggling with your own grief and worries.

So, we decided (since last Friday was his birthday) to take a quick weekend getaway. We made arrangements with our parents to share the kids (we are so lucky to live close to both sets of grandparents!) and we headed to Las Vegas with our two of our closest friends. We got to blow off steam and play and just forget about life for a couple of days. No deep discussions, no worries, just fun. It was great.

Then it was back to reality. You can’t run for long. One cause of my stress has been my job. I feel like I’m letting it take too much of my energy. I am a different person now than when I took this position and I am annoyed more and more by people who think this is the biggest deal in the world. People who are decades older than I yet act like middle school aged children. People who think that they are entitled to things or that they should not have to take responsibility for their own work (or do any work at all, for that matter). I am sick and tired of the hand-holding and the coddling and the whining – oh, the whining! I should not have to do this for grown people. If I am to endure these things it should be for my children and that would be a pleasure. I guess I am not really at a point in this process where I can lovingly show my coworkers that there is more to life than this. So, on I go trying to find ways to continue doing my job without exploding on someone who may or may not deserve it. Like last Friday when some of my good friends and I went outside and had a snowball fight at lunch time to keep from smacking someone. (Obviously, I’m not the only one who’s stressed at work!)

As time continues its seemingly endless march I will try to face it head on.

So, what will tomorrow be like?

Will the hurt go away? Not likely. At least, not completely.

Will we have another child? God will have to make that decision for us. Honestly the thought of trying again frightens me. I don’t know if I can take that chance.

Will we have brought some good to the world through our tragedy? If we allow God to do the work He wants to do in us, yes, I believe we will. Who knows what it will look like, though.

Will we love without restraint? Will we NOT stress over the little things that mean nothing in the grand scheme? Will we cherish every single breath we are given? Lord, make it so.

A wise man once told me “Knowledge of tomorrow has not been given to us, and for that we should be grateful.” Only God knows what tomorrow will bring; all I can do is wonder about it. (NOT try to will it into being) My goal for “tomorrow” is to merely be a vessel, a vehicle for what God wants to bring to people. Whatever that looks like I hope I will recognize it.

This is a long, long road I’m on. Some of you are on it with me. Thank you all for sticking with me.

Here’s to all of our tomorrows.

Today I make sure to talk about my sons. With my children, with my husband, with our families, with my coworkers, and sometimes with strangers. I am getting less and less shy about it. I feel like that is a good thing. Felix and Gabriel are my children and deserve to be shared with everyone. They were beautiful and strong and wanted. They are loved.

Today I am more honest about my feelings than I had been. I don’t always share exactly what I feel (and I don’t have to) but when it is appropriate, I do try to share. It isn’t easy to live each day as a mother who has lost some of her children. (I really need to think of a name for us. We’re not orphans, not widows, who are we??) But somehow God gives me the strength to get up and face each new day.

Today, even in the midst of such pain and wonder and sometimes still some anger, I live with hope. Hope that they did not die for nothing. Hope that God will use this for something. Hope that our other children will share their brothers with others. (actually Chloe already is) Hope that we will be reunited one day.

Today I am learning how to live a new and different life.

And while celebrating this beautiful life God has blessed me and my family with I am reminded yet again of all the little things that I am missing with my two littlest boys. All the little things I will never know about them. And Ezra (and Dylan and Chloe) won’t get to know them, either. He tells me he misses them. He prays for them. He even asks me to save donuts for them.

Why did it have to be them? Why did it have to be us? I never asked for this. I never wanted this. I only wanted them. Happy. Healthy. Whole. Here.

I don’t know how else to say it. My heart just aches. For “your babies” (what E-man has taken to calling them) who aren’t here. For the other brothers who aren’t here. (Chloe calls Dylan and Ezra “the brothers”) For all of the birthdays we won’t celebrate together. For the wonderful, strong men I imagined they would be. For my family that will never be complete this side of Heaven.

My heart aches for yesterday… when babies didn’t die.

In other news, I am having another rough week so any prayers you can spare would be appreciated. I am trying so hard to be loving toward everyone I come in contact with but it is REALLY hard. By the time I left work tonight I had just had it. I mean “up to here” had it. Like Mrs. Spit said – some days I wonder why some people get to have children when they have no apparent desire to care for them. (I also wonder why I thought it was a good idea to go to a meeting across the hall from a NICU earlier today thus expending all energy I had to “keep it together, man.”)

So many of my coworkers tell me they can’t believe how strong I am and how they would never be able to keep their cool in some of the situations I have been faced with since my return. Well, while it may appear that I am long-suffering on the outside – the words in my mind sometimes tell a different story. And I don’t want it to be that way. I want to be real about it but in a loving way. Am I making any sense? I want my attitude to come in line with my heart – inside and out. It is so easy for me to start complaining about people and I shouldn’t. I need to love them because that is what God told me to do.

Well, I think that’s enough for tonight. I have to set a blog curfew for myself because while what I’m writing makes sense to me now, it might not in the morning.

That’s it, no blogging after 11.

For those of you who don’t know, I work for a home care company in the pharmacy and nutrition services department. Basically I am in charge of providing patients with supplies to care for their IV lines at home and also provide formula and supplies for tube feedings.

Since I am the supervisor I have been covering for my friend who takes in new referrals for tube feedings this week while she is on vacation in Dubai. (and you owe me BIG time, Jen!)

This has stirred up a lot of thoughts and feelings about children with birth defects.

I wonder why God allows some to live without too many problems while others have all types of special needs requiring multiple therapies and meds and so on. I wonder why God allows others, like Gabriel, to be “beyond repair.”

I see so many kids who have admission after admission to the hospital. Some have had multiple transplants, others trying all different types of treatments to help cure their diseases – standard and experimental. Parents and kids fighting for their lives against things like cancer, short gut syndrome, cerebral palsy, pulmonary (lung) disorders… the list just goes on and on. And it makes my heart ache.

I like what I am doing at my job and hope that in some way it makes things easier on the families we serve. But sometimes it’s hard. Especially when I’m grieving the loss of children whose lives I fought for in the spirit but lost in the end.