Raw Emotion

99% of the time, you will come to my blog to find a light-hearted, funny take on my life with 2 kids. Today, I must write something not-so-light-hearted. SO, if you came to read this looking for a laugh, skip over this entry. I promise to return soon with another tale straight from the Hot Mess Express.

Many of my friends don't know that John and I lost twin girls. Their 4th birthday is coming up next weekend, and I again find myself sad, angry, and feeling quite alone. It happens every year, and I can honestly say that so far, it hasn't gotten easier. Every June, I am knocked on my ass by grief, and find that I have very few avenues to turn down for a shoulder to cry on.

People don't know how to react when I talk about my twins. I promise, I don't do it to be a Debbie Downer, but they are a part of our family and our life. I feel ashamed that as the years have passed, i've stopped talking to anyone but John about them. I miss them. I love them. I am still angry at the heavens for taking them from me. But people as a whole expect you to move on, to talk about the kids that are here. To quit "bringing the room down" by talking about your dead children. So I lie through my teeth when people ask how many children we have. "Two" I say, with a smile to hide the tears. Because it's easier to do than explaining "well, we've actually got 4, but two died when they were babies" and then people look at you all weird and you feel weird and there is awkwardness, and your fun backyard BBQ just turned south.

I am angry at myself for writing them off like that. The death of Natalie and Meredith forever changed the way John and I are. We are scarred; we are scared. We are overly cautious. We hover over Sam and Sloane, afraid that they will get hurt or sick. I lay awake in bed at night wondering if Sam's cough is turning to pneumonia, or if Sloane's weird bump on her leg is cancer. Because I have lived through the worst case scenario for a mother. I don't want it to happen again. Ever. No parent should have to grieve the loss of their child.

Next week on Natalie and Meredith's birthday, we will have a party here. It will only be John, me, Sam and Sloane, but we will eat birthday cake and wear party hats and celebrate their short life here on Earth. We will also celebrate surviving another year without them. Perhaps I am a nut job, but it makes me feel better. I couldn't provide them a life here, but I can throw them a party. I can love them, and miss them. I can talk to Sam and Sloane about them, and let them know it is OK to miss someone you never met. I can get another step closer to healing the gaping hole in my heart.

Happy Birthday, sweet daughters of mine. I miss you every day, and will never ever forget you. Love-Mom