Six Months

Tomorrow marks six months since we lost our last two babies. Honestly, I hadn't even thought about it until a coworker (who lost her own baby 1 1/2 weeks before we did) emailed me about the connection. I had a trip planned for that weekend and everything. When I realized the dates, I almost backed out; but my husband and I decided it would be a good distraction. And I had been doing well emotionally. It had been a long time since my last big breakdown and I was feeling pretty stable. So off my friend and I drove today... to Monterey.

Some of you may remember that we scattered the ashes in the ocean. Well, we did that in - you guessed it - Monterey. And we're actually staying in a hotel that could be walking distance from that same beach. Still, I thought I'd be fine. But here I sit in my car, just back from sitting on the beach staring at the barely visible white froth of the crashing waves while weeping from my gut. It's one of those cries that I had never experienced until losing the babies. I have to imagine that was how the word guttural came to be. But, despite the sadness, I felt the need to write. So here I sit in my car, typing away.

It's a strange sense of loss. It's not like we lost a six year old child, or a parent, or a lifelong friend. We lost children we only knew for a few hours combined. I never even felt them move while I was pregnant. So it's a strange thing to miss them, but I do. But mostly I'm sorry that they will never be able to experience life, love, pain, joy, sorrow, anticipation, Christmas, their first day of school, a first kiss, being tossed into the air by their dad, leaning to drive... the list goes on and on. I'm not guilty - I did everything I could - but I'm sorry nonetheless.

So I mark this six months as an important day - one deserving of love and remembrance. I hope that their ashes have scattered around the globe and that their DNA is now a part of many different plants and animals. That, in a small way, they are alive and fueling the planet, maybe even making life possible for some other creature. And here I sit, trying to make sense of my feelings, staring at a vast black ocean, a starless sky, and a glowing screen - looking to the universe and my own words to make sense of it all. Somewhat unsuccessfully, I might add.

All I can do is wish a happy half-birthday to my little ones, Ewan, Sebastian and Amelia. We love and miss you all. Love, Mom.

Miles to Go Before I Sleep

"But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep."
  - Robert Frost

"I put a piece of paper under my pillow, and when I could not sleep I wrote in the dark."
  - Henry David Thoreau

"Sleep - the most beautiful experience in
life - except drink."
- W.C. Fields

If you've known me for any length of time, you know that I can sleep like a champ. I LOVE sleeping. And yes, I understand that it is wasting part of my life away... but it just feels so good to lie there in those soft, billowing sheets with your head cradled in a fluffy imitation down pillow. Ahh... even just describing it makes me want to go take a nap. But lately, sleep has not been my friend. I can get cuddled up in my lovely bed, find my perfect position, and... nothing. I toss and I turn for hours until, finally, sleep finds me. This (along with not having any sort of a schedule) has pushed my sleep schedule back far beyond where my upcoming 8am schedule will eventually allow. I've been working to change this habit, but it's harder than it appears.

Anyone who remembers the joys of summer vacation also remembers the trials of going back to school. No more late night hours watching movies, hanging out with friends, or reading under the covers. That schedule change alone is enough to slowly shift your sleeping patterns; but my situation is a bit more complicated. I would assume anyone who has gone through trauma experiences something like this, but those dark moments between going to bed and falling asleep - when your mind races or inhabits what my sister calls "crazy brain" - those moments change. I've come to realize that those are some of our truest moments in the day. We can distract ourselves with work, errands, TV, friends, family... you name it, but when all distractions are gone and we are left alone in the dark with nothing but our mental faculties, we learn what is truly on our minds throughout the day. For me, it used to be lists. (I have learned that I feel more in control when I can articulate what I need to do and when.) But now, it's almost always baby related. Even on days when I feel emotionally stable and think I've kept my mind on other things, when I close my eyes, that's what is there. Sometimes, it's future related - only X many months until we can try again. What might happen? Will my back hold up? Other times it's memories, some more traumatic that others. At times, I can feel certain sensations (most not pleasant) from my time in the hospital and during the birthing process. Those are the worst nights. It's amazing how accurately my body can recall those sensations. But no matter what I do, I generally cannot pry my brain away from this subject.

I suppose in a way it's a good thing. When I am thinking about the future, I am much more motivated to get myself healthy. But when it means not falling to sleep until 3:00-4:00 am, it becomes a hassle. And, although I don't remember any bad baby related dreams (amazingly enough), the fear is always there that falling asleep while meditating on baby trauma will lead to baby related nightmares. The truly frustrating part is that I don't believe I can do anything to change any of this. All I can do is keep on keeping on and hope that, like the kid who is thrust back into the routine of school, my teaching schedule will force both my sleep and my brain back into normalcy.

Spread the Word

Our triplets at 12 weeks

I have recently gone back to work and also had the opportunity to hang out with friends who I haven't seen often (or at all) since the beginning of my pregnancy. Although our conversations weren't entirely about our IVF process and the loss of our triplets, they often meandered back to the subjects and it really reminded me how important I feel it is to talk about this stuff. I am still unsure why fertility and pregnancy loss continue to be taboo topics, but I believe that should change. Much like the important and growing awareness of previously hush-hush topics like breast cancer, alcoholism and mental illnesses, fertility and miscarriage/preterm labor should be things that people are aware of - not so we can fear them, but so we can understand them (and those who experience them). That is why I have made some structural changes to my website. You'll notice it is no longer anonymous. I have also updated my profile and have begun linking to other blogs - some topically related and others that are not. My hope is not that I'll become a millionaire from blog traffic (although I wouldn't be upset if that happened); it's really to bring awareness to issues that are sadly prevalent in order to bring awareness and healing to people.

I ask that you would help me with this by officially following me and sharing this blog with others. I know it has been slow as of late, but I will keep it steadily growing. And we do plan to repeat our IVF and hopefully our pregnancy story in the not too distant future. And, despite my own desires for self-preservation and the cautionary words of friends and family, I plan to document it all here as it happens. I can't in good faith promote a conversation that I'm only willing to partially participate in. So, please help me to build that conversation through shares, comments, tweets, follows... whatever you can and will do. And thank you to everyone who has loved and supported us through this past year. It's been quite a journey and I hope you - and many others - will continue it with us.

And just so you know it's coming, I'll be posting about our six month marker in a couple of weeks. I truly can't believe it has been that long.