You know what’s really hard?

When we lost Cole, a piece of me died. I lost my baby, a piece of my heart, and the ‘dream’ of twins. But we put all of our love and energy into Lina. As long as she did well, I had a bit of Cole with me. Not to say it was easy to get that focus. It was a a long time before I could let myself believe her progress. Appreciate it. Celebrate it. It was a long time before I could admit to myself she was doing well. Whenever anybody asked me, my responses were qualified all over the place.

“Well, she seems to be doing OK. But she’s still got a long way to go. It’s too early to tell for sure. I don’t want to be too optimistic.” and so on.

But when I did finally start to let that guard down, I started to be able to smile again. Genuinely. And sometimes I even felt a little bounce in my step.

As long as we had Lina, I still had my twins. I imagined telling her about her brother as she grew up. I imagined taking out his memory box on special days and showing her his little hand and footprints. The ultrasound pictures, the clips of his black hair. No, I wouldn’t get my Mickey and Minnie on Halloween. But his spirit, his place in our family would be held by her.

But now…without Lina, I feel like I lost my twins. Yes, we will never forget them. Annika remembers, and I hope she will always retain some of those memories. But with my empty arms…it sometimes feels like it never even happened. I know in my head that they existed and that their memories have been honored in so many ways. They live on in many many hearts. But it still feels so unreal. Sometimes it feels like I never had them. Like all this never happened. But the heartache is real, for sure.


3 Responses to “You know what’s really hard?”

  1. 1 LorMarie February 27, 2008 at 8:59 pm

    There is much heartache, but the best thing to do may be to honor them in your memories. I think it’s normal to feel as though it all wasn’t real.

    But the high hopes only to have them crushed is the worst.

    You are in my thoughts.

  2. 2 Elizabeth February 28, 2008 at 3:05 pm

    I am sorry, my heart aches for you. When I let my guard down I lost my son. I will never be that foolish again. Of course somthing would go wrong, it was me…it always does.

    I am overwhelmed by what I imagine your grief is like and wish there was somthing that could help. I am glad you have Annika.

  3. 3 mkate February 28, 2008 at 8:40 pm

    From what you wrote, it sounds as if you almost lost Cole twice. Once when he first passed and then again when you lost Lina.

    I can see where letting your guard down would add to your grief. You were just beginning to become optimistic again when it was all taken away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

About Me

I'm a grieving mom. I have one beautiful daughter, Annika, who's 3 years old now (born 12/28/04). I also had twins, Lina and Cole, on 10/04/07, born at just 26 weeks. We lost Cole after just 23 days due to complications related to his prematurity. Fiesty little Lina overcame so much and just when she was getting ready to come home with us, suddenly had a complication unrelated to her prematurity and passed away on January 11, 2008. This blog is about getting through it. More...

%d bloggers like this: