Friday, November 16, 2012

It isn't weird. Because it just isn't.

I went to see Breaking Dawn Part II last night.  An hour away from home, to meet a friend half way so that we could be twihard geeky together.  Her plan was to wear a wolf shirt, mine was to howl the first time I saw Jacob and cry the first time I saw Edward.  Which didn't work out. Surprising because I had two Christmas Ales and was feeling mighty fine and howling was certainly not out of the question.

This particular friend has identical twin girls who were born five months after Ainsley and Evelyn. 

Five years ago, if you told me that I would get pregnant with identical twin girls and one would be stillborn and the other would die after sixteen months in the hospital because she was dependent on a ventilator?  I would have probably shit my pants.

If you told me that all of that would happen, and that I could still have friends with twins and friends with kids who overcame the NICU and friends with kids almost the exact age of my twins?  I would have probably shit my pants.

I for sure was not as graceful when I was dealing with infertility, that smelly pirate hooker.  I had a hard time with pregnant people and people who got pregnant easily and people who said the most ridiculous things like, "maybe if you just relax, you'll get pregnant!"  And I am not exactly a nice person, either.  I hold a mean grudge.  I'm easily annoyed.  I have no patience.  So it was natural for me to be a big (youge!) bitch.

I don't know what it is.  Maybe just that I'm a little older and slightly more mature (only slightly because poop fart penis = LOL ALWAYS).  Maybe I feel like we did everything the best way we could and so I have peace with what happened.  But I have no jealousy/what should have been type of feelings.  I don't mind when people bitch about how hard it is to have twins because holy shit, man.  I bet you it really is!  I can see kids that were born around the time of my twins and appreciate their cute without being jealous that it isn't my kid.  What happened doesn't make me resentful of other people and that, quite honestly, surprises me.

I feel bad sometimes, when people are talking to us about Ainsley and they bust out the classic, "I don't know how you do it...if my kid died, I wouldn't be able to go on..."  I mean, you can do anything when you have no choice.  And while I get the point in general - we've dealt with something really horrible that you can't fathom - it makes me wonder if people don't think that I am...upset enough?  Or something.  I don't know.  I'm probably being paranoid.

Anyway.  The point is that it isn't weird for me to be around families who, in whatever way, look the way that our family would have looked.  It just isn't.  I have no idea why or how but I am glad because I would be missing out on good friendships and cute kiddos.

And now I am going to sleep sitting up like the elephant man while holding Adelle.  Her adorable ass has been crying all day for the past three days and she is going to the pediatrician tomorrow because I suspect ear infection. I can god damn guarantee she doesn't have one and it will be a waste of a copay but futility completes me.  The end.

14 comments: said...

If I can be honest, I always felt bad having Ellery when you had gone through so much (to the point I mourned for you in the days both before and after her birth. I actually told my doctor it wasn't fair that I was holding my newborn when you couldn't... It is bizarre to explain.). But when you asked me to hold her at that birthday party, and told me how good she smelled and loved on her, I knew you'd be ok. And that I didn't have to feel bad for having a healthy little girl. I still mourned your little girls, but felt a renewed sense of respect for you I have not felt for anyone else. We'd all be missing out on YOUR friendship, and that would be the tragedy in this.

We all deal and heal differently. And I am thankful that you have dealt with your hand, both good and bad, in amazingly graceful and honest ways.

areyoukiddingme said...

Ah, what can you do? Life is what you get, and spending it wishing you had Ainsley and Evelyn with you would take away from Olivia and Adelle. It's sad and horrible and all, but life must go on and hiding away in case you might encounter someone with kids the age of your twins would be very sad and lonely.

I hope you enjoyed your night out, but I don't see how you could while wasting time on Twilight. Of course, I'm currently watching The Expendables, so who am I to talk?

Jamiegirl said...

Mmmm...Christmas Ale!

Nicole said...

Can we please talk for a minute about twilight. Kind of off subject of this post but omg! Who decided it was a good idea to give baby Renesme a flipper. Like who let a pageant mom onto the "set" and gave the already creepy computer enhanced baby a flipper?? I kept thinking at any moment the baby might bite me.... Ahhhh maybe that was the point, der....

Stacey said...

I can't even comprehend the heavy sh!t you've been through, so I'm not going to comment, other than to say you're remarkably sane. However, I will comment on a beautifully written phrase: "futility completes me." Truer words have never been spoken by a parent.

boringyear said...

It was not long after you lost Ainsley and I told Hubs about it ("see, there's this blog I read...") that we found out our Monkey has cancer.

I'm totally not trying to compare the two, but the amazing courage and strength that you have and that you shared on your blog have been an inspiration to me.

And I have been surprised at myself for not feeling more upset in given circumstances, so I get what you mean there. I have no idea what the heck is up with that tho. Stupid brains. As if shit isn't bad enough we also need to feel guilty about not feeling more upset? Umm no.

Ann M. said...

I like to take the whole, "I don't know how you do it" as an admiration of strength. People say that shit to me when my husband deploys (clearly different situation yes, same phrase, yes). What they don't realize is, this is our life. They say that almost as if there is some other option and you are picking the hard one, and they wouldn't. When you aren't given options, what you get is acceptance. There isn't anything else that would still allow the ability to function. Sometimes it takes longer to get to that point but it sounds like you are there. Instead of focusing on what could have been, you are appreciating what IS. Don't ever feel you owe an explination for that.

Julia said...

I don't think anyone who knows you IRL or reads your blog could ever question how much you love your precious girls...all of them.
You don't have to be publicly keening 24/7 (although if you did, you'd be entitled) to miss and love Ainsley and Evelyn every single minute. You are an amazing person and mother, as far as I'm concerned, and you deserve happiness. Don't feel guilty about having a few minutes of that in between the challenges of motherhood!

Rebecca said...

For about the price of a copay you can buy an ear looker inner thing and know by looking yourself if your kids have an ear infection.

Elle said...

I think you're awesome. I love reading your blog and I'm always drawn in by your humor and your ability to adapt and overcome anything life gives you. I cannot imagine the pain that you went and are going through, but your strength is inspiring! And...we all experience things differently. Anyone who things you aren't openly "hurting" enough, given your circumstances, just sucks. Like you said, when there is no other choice but to pick up the pieces and try to move forward, it's pretty amazing what one can go through and come out on the other side.

Although the infertility we are still going through sucks (going on 5 yrs), I know it could be so, so much worse. I used to be all angst-y about it, but the past couple of years I've noticed I've felt less...desperately depressed? about it all. Almost complacent. Like I can breath better than before. Maybe it's the maturity thing you mentioned. It doesn't mean I want a child any less than before (actually that desire is always growing), but I just deal with it differently. I must, or I think I'd go insane.

Anyway, I was not at all trying to compare my mere infertility with everything you've gone through with your precious baby girls passing away...but I just wanted to share my lesser struggles and let you know that I think you're pretty awesome! Your attitude towards life (including the good and the shitty parts) is truly inspiring.

Well, that was kinda mushy-gushy! But I hope you have awesome things coming for you. Keep being hilarious! ;)

HereWeGoAJen said...

I hate the "I don't know how you do it" line. I once yelled at a friend for saying that to another friend...and discovered the very next morning that Luke had died. But on the bright side, neither of those friends told me that they don't know how I do it.

Kelly said...

"I mean, you can do anything when you have no choice."

I think you hit the nail on the head there. I have caught myself about to say that to a friend that lost her daughter at 4 months, but then I remind myself that's a shitty thing to say from the other side. What I really mean is HOLY FUCK - I'm glad it wasn't me. But that's a pretty shitty (but true) thing to say too.

I'll just say you're doing an amazing job being a mommy despite everything.

Joelle said...

I get this too. We went through 6 (i think?) ivfs, lost a pregnancy at 23 weeks, had a failed adoption attempt, then went on to adopt twin baby girls. People for so long said they didn't know how I went on everyday. Like what was I going to do? Go postal at work, or shit on someone at starbucks? You just pick up and move on. I too had way more problems when we were infertile, but I am now that mom to twins, and HOLY SHIT! It is so hard, so hard in fact I had to go back to work for a break. So an infertile would think I'm total asshole now, but it is what is.
And you might be the only person in the world to make an elephant man reference in such a serious post. Nicely done.

B's Mom said...

I have a daughter who was stillborn. I am OK with it. I don't do the "what if's" or "should be's". I sometimes feel like I'm the freak because I don't do those things and almost everyone else I know who's had this type of loss does it. Obviously I would prefer my daughter here with me, but she's not, and I'm OK with that.

I'm glad you are OK too.