Saturday, October 10, 2015

Four years ago, my life changed forever

Thanksgiving.  To me the very essence of the holiday is supposed to promote gratefulness, happiness, family, and love.  I’m not saying that I’m not a thankful person, but Thanksgiving is unfortunately the most difficult time of the year for me.

It’s so hard to believe that tomorrow it will have been FOUR WHOLE YEARS since my miscarriage.  Four years!  Despite all that has happened since, including giving birth to the two most beautiful girls in the world just six minutes apart a year later, it feels in some ways like it happened just yesterday.

People said it would get easier, that with time I’d gain closure and be able to move on.  And, yes, it has gotten easier in the sense that I don’t cry about it all the time, and I don’t have flashbacks nearly as often as I did in the first year after it happened.  But I still think about it just about every day, not in a dwelling sort of way, but in the sense that it’s there, it never quite goes away.  Nor should it, it’s not that I want to forget.  It’s just...I wish I could have actually gained the closure that unfortunately isn’t possible.

Not being able to ever have the answers for why it happened, for what went wrong, and for why it had to end in the way it did (read: self-flushing toilets are evil, and every time I’m forced to use a public restroom I have to think hard to prevent myself from having a panic attack - for serious.  I don’t see that ever changing).  

I don’t tend to talk about it anymore for the most part, I mean, what is there to say, right?  Nothing about it can change, and I’ve gone over every minute detail already!  But the other night I was chatting with James and it came up in conversation with regards to Thanksgiving coming up.  My parents were invited to go over to my bro and sil’s for dinner on Sunday...Which is the 11th...Which is the fateful ‘anniversary’ day...And it made me think about it again.  I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly, as it made me think about how we were at my bro and sil’s celebrating Thanksgiving four years ago, when in my heart I really began to think something was truly wrong...and the next day it felt like my entire world was crumbling apart.

When I talked about it with James the other night, I had to fight back tears, and may have let a few drop.  I could have just let them flow, but I wasn’t in the mood to take it that far.  It was there, though.  The feelings.  The sadness.  The sense of loss, and the inability to understand it.  I can never gain closure, and that just kills a part of me every time I think about it, to know in my heartest of hearts that I literally will never, EVER get over what happened.  I know I could have been through much worse, I KNOW that, and ultimately I am very lucky.  I don’t mean for it to sound like it’s the worst possible thing anyone has ever gone through.  But it’s all relative, because it’s MY worst thing, and it really was very tragic for me.  

Yet had I not lost that baby, I would not have Margaret and Emily.  I would not be a ‘Mom Of Multiples.’  How could the world keep spinning without my two precious girls?!  How could I ever have been fully happy if I hadn’t had THEM?!!  I know I wouldn’t know any different, but part of me goes back to something I’ve always at least wanted to believe: that everything happens for a reason.

Knowing what I know now, of course I couldn’t go back in time and change anything, because it would mean not having my twin girls.  And I just couldn’t change that.  I love them SO much, and even though it was never our plan to have 3 kids, especially to have two-at-once...this truly is the perfect outcome.  My boy and my two girls.  It’s an adventure for sure, and an amazing one.  An exhausting, pull-my-hair-out, sometimes I just wanted to scream (most days I just want to scream), crazy, glorious ride, with my 3 awesome kids.  They do drive me completely bonkers, but I also love them more than anything in the universe and would literally do anything for them.

I just can’t get over the sadness I feel for the baby I lost.  Still seeing the image in my mind of that helpless little body, that PERFECT little being aside from the fact that it was unable to survive, for a reason I’ll never know.  Having it whisked away from me so suddenly, just as I was reaching out to hold him or her, to find out if I was expecting a boy or a girl.  To never know who that little person would have been.  To not be able to give him or her a name, because I didn’t know the sex, and it never felt right to give them a unisex name because it’s not what I’d have wanted to choose.  I had a baby that I loved with all my heart, but will never, ever know.  It’s sad.

And this time of year reminds me of that sadness.  And makes me feel like pushing Thanksgiving away, because it’s not a time when I feel particularly thankful.  Yes, of course, I’m grateful for what I have, and I KNOW I have an abundance, I KNOW I am lucky, I KNOW I have a wonderful life.  I do know that there is much for me to be thankful for, and because I do have three innocent children who deserve beautiful family traditions to hold close to their own hearts throughout their lives, I am sure to not let the way I’m feeling inside destroy the holiday for them.  They have no idea that it’s a particularly hard time of year for me.  And I wouldn’t expect them to.  

So even though I can’t help but have these feelings, and most likely always will this time of year, I also want to remind myself of all that I have.  And we will enjoy our Thanksgiving celebrations on Monday the 12th with family, and the splendour that is Tofurkey!

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