Let Me Tell You ‘Bout My Jesus

The past few weeks have been – rough. I have so many emotions and feelings swirling around in my brain all the time. I told a girlfriend the other night that it feels like my thoughts are a game of pingpong.

Back and forth. Be happy, be sad. Be thankful, feel resentful. Be angry, be calm. 

This week brought an unexpected death to our extended family. A lovely woman who left behind a very distraught family.

The twin’s 2 year birthday was Saturday.

Kaden’s 9 month birthday was Monday.

I see families moving on, growing, becoming the very thing so many of us picture when we think of adulthood. Marriage, babies, school.

Hope dims on days when this overwhelms me. When I look back at the past 2 1/2 years of waiting to bring one of our babies home and I’m furious that once again, I’m here with this burden to carry.

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Because They Lived

Two years ago yesterday I posted this in a private FB group:

2014-04-28 07.35.10

I don’t remember much about those first few days in the hospital. In fact, I’ve never gone back to read one post I wrote during that time. 2 years and I’ve linked to them, but never read. It’s still that painful.

Looking back, I can see the PTSD that spiraled from being there and treated so awfully in both hospitals. I understand how people didn’t get why I acted the way I did after the boys died, because sometimes I don’t even get it – but that doesn’t excuse the treatment from people in our life. I didn’t have a lot of PTSD with Kaden’s time at the hospital. The doctors were kind, the nurses were helpful, everyone wanted him to live.

With the twins, everyone just wanted me to leave.

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The Price of Love

It’s 11:30am here. We’re all on the couch, Jynx curled up on Bella’s lap as she plays with her animals. Sam is playing SkyRim. On Saturdays I usually get up before him to tidy up the house, so now it’s rather clean and I’m pleased.

We had a very, very hard therapy session yesterday. Sam goes with me each Friday and we have art therapy together. At first I thought it was going to be pretty dumb – would I be drawing pictures of sad faces and having them interpret colors? But the more we get into this, the more challenging it is. It’s not about the process so much as it makes us use an entirely different part of our brain. I usually end up crying about things that I thought I was pretty much over, or remembering parts of the past two years I haven’t thought of in forever.

It’s not magic or anything. In fact it’s pretty incredible how our brains are designed. I’m even more awed by our perfect creation through this.

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Waiting to Collapse

Kaden’s memorial is Saturday.

We received his ashes a little while ago.

Monday we received his death certificate. Along with it came his clothes he was wrapped in when he passed away.

We still have to deal with insurance and bills. Each addressed to him.

Texas sent us a friendly reminder that we hadn’t vaccinated him yet.

I have to go through his pictures for the memorial.

Each month has a birth date and a death date and in May we’ll have three events. The twins and his.

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Why We Talk Openly With Bella About Loss

I wrote this piece today for Babble Kids, but I am so passionate about allowing our children to feel their emotions (especially when it comes to loss) that I wanted to share it on here so that it reaches more of you. Please feel free to share the full article with everyone. 

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My almost 4 year old climbs into my lap and asks for the hundredth time, “Where is Kaden?”

I respond with the same answer each time, it comforts her. “He went to heaven. He’s with the two babies (our twins).”

I can see her brain process this yet again. “You are sad?”

“I’m happy and I’m sad. I’m happy because you are here, so is Daddy, and I know Kaden isn’t sick any more. But I’m sad because I miss your brothers, and it’s ok to be sad.”

She nods. “You wanted them to come home, but no. Two babies were too small and Kaden was too sick.”

This same conversation is played out multiple times a day in our home with Bella. I won’t lie – talking about loss with children is hard. It hurts to see her try so hard to comprehend why we didn’t get to bring a baby home, again. After losing 3 brothers she’s waited excitedly for and been promised all kinds of fun things to do with, I can’t help but deeply feel the injustice handed to her at such a young age.   Read the rest on Babble