Hannah's First Recital (without Samantha)

I know this will happen less as the girls get older, but every first, is a missed first for  me.  I know it was compounded by the fact that is was Mother's Day and all I wanted was to go to the cemetery (and hating that feeling that I want to go to the cemetery because I wish I didn't need to go to the cemetery).
Hannah is so tiny and she was so adorable and beautiful.  Everyone thought she was so cute, and I certainly agreed.  However I couldn't help imagining Samantha there.  And that feeling I used to get of everything in the world being as it should be.  I can't help wondering if I will ever feel that way again.  Whenever I get close there is an "except".
I wanted so much to hear her name with her sisters'.  I wanted to much to scream that there is someone missing here.  It's such a weird feeling to need to cry but not be able to.  My eyes tear up and it feels like there is a flood behind the dam but I can't open it even once I'm finally alone.  Mother's day is so different for people who have children who are not on earth.
I read an article about woman whose son recently died in a car accident.  I couldn't help thinking that poor woman has joined this horrific club of which I am a member.  It's different in so many ways since he was 21, but in so many ways it's the same too.  It brought back many memories for me of those early days of grief.  The feelings of shock.
I have been, as always, going through my scrapbook when I get a chance.  I want to sit down and write out some of the thoughts and memories that come to me when I do, however I am just trying to jot this down quickly before the oven starts beeping.
There it is.
I think the word that sums up how I feel right now its "ow".

Still Grieving

I posted on my online grief group about what really happened at field of flowers day.  It's always nice to have their understanding.  I try to act like I am a confident griever.  I tell others there is no wrong way to grieve, there is no time line, be gentle with yourself.  But taking that advice is so different.
At my in person grief group, we watched a video of a book called Tear Soup.  It was so good.  It reminded me of so many things I experienced especially the first year.  And made me realize that it's ok if I'm still making tear soup because I will always have some occasionally.
http://losjuanhijos.blogspot.com/2012/04/field-of-flowers-day-2012.html
It was a beautiful day.  I had been looking forward to it and there was this wonderful photographer who took these lovely photos.  Then it happened.
Facebook:

 Small vent... Saturday we went to the field of flowers day at the cemetery which we have attended every year. It was a beautiful day and the girls looked so sweet. Turn around and there they were... a man and a woman with a tiny baby in a bjorn on each of their chests. It was like sledge hammer. I tried to just keep going but I broke and just started balling. I'm two years out and it's been a long time since I cried like that. I just kept thinking, I had two little babies just like that- I wish I wasn't here! I bet they were visiting a grandparent (they weren't in the baby section). I just hate it when my "safe place" gets invaded. In a way it felt good to cry like that, but it hurt so much to be reminded of what I had and lost. SUCKS!!!

It still hurts so much.  I miss her everyday but now in the day in and day out it feels a little more distant and unreal.  I feel like my heart is protecting itself by creating a reality where she never existed.  Because when I realize that this thing really happened to me, it can be paralyzing.  It is amazing to me also how interconnected my grief is with my desire for another baby.  

I know I can never replace her, but the thought of having another baby is so joyous and comforting.  I am filled with hope and happiness just thinking about it.  But for several reasons this is not the time.  And suddenly that becomes a part of my loss.  Just another reminder that this horrible thing happened to me.  Not only will I never get to hold Samantha again but I may never have another baby.  And if I do it will likely be a traumatic experience for my whole family.

I will look at my scrapbook and give Hannah double kisses today.

The Way of the Cross Without Samantha

This is an article I wrote a year ago which I shared on a blog I contribute to.  It is mostly for Catholics and people who want to learn about the Catholic faith and lifestyle but I tend to end up writing many time about my loss.  I feel that is a unique perspective I have and at the same time something many people have experienced.  I hope you will enjoy taking this little lenten journey with me.
http://www.catholicsistas.com/2012/04/04/walking-the-way-of-the-cross-without-samantha/

Field of Flowers Day 2012

Field of Flowers Day

For our Family this is a special event.  We get to take a photo where our whole family is there. It is always beautiful and peaceful.  I am looking forward to it.

Two Years Ago

We had a wonderful weekend acknowledging our sweet baby girl.
My lovely family was so supportive as always.  My sister and husband and daughter came in from out of town and my mom offered to make dinner for everyone.
I told my sister I would like to do something in Samantha's honor and she was thoughtful enough to call the NICU where Samantha and Hannah were born and ask them if there was something we could get for them.
So yesterday we went to Target and bought swing for the babies in the NICU. I used my label maker to create a label that said "In Loving Memory of Samantha Lily Johnson 1/31/10 - 3/12/10".  I was so glad to be able to do that.  Knowing that there is something there to honor her which they babies can use is a huge comfort to me.
Going to the hospital for me is like a trip back in time.  The smells and the sights take me back to a time when I had two babies.  A time when I was terrified and exhausted.  I was running on fumes but so motivated by my sweet little babies.  When I go the hospital a particularly familiar smell is the soap.  Before entering the NICU there is a ritual of hand washing which is important because of the babies' vulnerability to germs.  That smell brings back the excitement that soon I will be holding my babies.  I was so close and yet so far.  I would cry while I washed my hands because I missed them so much.
That place is a little bit like proof for my heart that she was real and the place where she lived is still there just as it was.  There were two nurses there one whom had a familiar face and the other that I felt like I knew well.  She was there when we came back to the hospital after Samantha died to talk to the doctor who was on call at the time she got sick and ask some questions to try to understand what happened as much as we could.  That nurse was so sweet and compassionate.  I will never forget how she cried with us.  Many of them grieved with us at the funeral.  They were the only ones who really knew her like we did.  It was a huge comfort to see them there and to keep in touch with them on facebook.
It was cold and rainy yesterday just like the day we buried Samantha, several days after she died.  Today parents and sister's family and my brother and his girlfriend joined my family at mass and came over for lunch.  Then we all went to the cemetery together.  It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, although muddy.  The flowers are blooming, bluebonnets, and little yellow flowers all over.  It's green and breezy and sunny sitting there gazing at my baby's headstone.
I got to share some memories with my family.  And thank my brother in law for taking the trouble and pain to write down his memories of Samantha which he did a year ago.  I feel so blessed.
Tomorrow my new blog layout will show up.  I am looking forward to marking the second anniversary of her death with a beautiful tribute to a beautiful girl.

Next to Normal

There have been many triggers in my life lately.  Hannah had an allergic reaction to her antibiotic.  Valentines and the super-bowl (which  both happened while my twins were in the NICU), ran into a friend who had twins at the same time as us (but hers both survived), many friends having babies, upcoming anniversaries.  I was so grateful that my support group met the other day so I could talk about all of this without fear, knowing they would understand the grief and pain these seemingly small events cause under my exterior togetherness.
Last night I went and saw a musical which that grief organization My Healing Place, invited us to.  It was about a woman whose baby died and triggered her into bi-polar disorder including delusions.  It was definitely a moving and effective piece with beautiful music.
I still can't decide if I'm really glad I went or not.  There were a few times where I almost lost it and started bawling uncontrollably.  However there was also much beauty and humor.  I often feel that "there but by the grace of God go I" in the sense that this character could have been me.  I could see myself spiraling that way.  Delusions can make the pain more bearable.
Some things I really related to were the feeling that you just remembered that your baby is dead.  They portray it very well.  The first part of the musical you think the son is alive- he is to the main character.  The way you suddenly find out that it's his birthday but he isnt there, is just how it feels when a birthday comes up.  It's as if you suddenly realize that because they are dead they won't be there this year either.  It was a very powerful moment.
Another thing that hit me was that they don't use the son's name.  The father won't say his name and we don't find it out until another beautiful moment when the father finally utters his name.  As you know, because of the title of this blog, this is a very important concept to me.  I can't imagine how much pain it would cause not to hear my baby's name for 18 years.
The hardest part of watching the play was that what happened to her makes great theater.  But it really happened to me.  All the actors got to go home and leave that terrible pain on the stage.  I took mine home with me.  Thier imaginary world which was a challenge and fascination to create is my actuality.
I used to tell myself "it's just a movie" if it was too sad or too violent.  But last night when I thought "It's just a play" so that I wouldn't start sobbing, I realized it wasn't  just a play to me.
I am glad I went.  I think I am going to buy the music because there were many songs that were so real and spoke to how I feel or have felt.  However it was hard. It wasn't a real loss but like a two way mirror, when I look at it I see my own loss.  And it's always hard to look your loss in the face.  Somehow hearing the words in music brings a small comfort that I am not alone in my pain.

Twin-less Twin Two Year Well Check Up

Many times when I take Hannah to the doctor I am taken back to a time when I was full of hope.  I had my tiny little Hannah home with me, and we talked to the doctor about bringing Samantha the next week. Bringing her back for checkups without Samantha was almost debilitating.  My feet were lead and I felt disconnected from reality.  What am I doing here with one baby?  One particularly difficult incident was seeing someone I recognized from the NICU.  her two little boys were across the room from my two little girls.  She had two car seats with her.  I had only one.
I can walk easily in now, I have been in many times since then.  But I cried bitterly in the car, wishing I had my two girls to celebrate.  I imagined how my double stroller would have helped me navigate the twin two year old girls through the parking lot and waiting room.  I imagined how I would have sit in grateful wonder at how my tiny preemies had grown.  I still sat in grateful wonder, but also in sorrow.

Missing my Samantha.  Grateful for each moment I got to spend with her, and get to spend with her sisters.