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Today was our first official EI visit. The visit was fun for Monkey as the Early Childhood Teacher brought lots of fun toys. Monkey had to work for each and every toy. She brought a peg board for Monkey to place plastic pegs in (fine motor skills). In order for him to get another peg, he had to attempt to say "more" or sign it. I am pretty sure he can say it, but he may have gotten his stubborn streak from his mother. He refused. She would move his hand to sign it and then give him the peg. She would then try again to get him to do it. The closest we got was "Mmmm". It's a start.

This evening, Monkey wanted a cookie. I broke it into pieces and showed him the sign for more. I asked him to say more, expecting him to ignore me or whine instead. Sure enough, he just said "more". Apparently, we weren't using the right motivational tools. Lose the pegs, bring out the cookies. I am going to mark this up as a victory. I will have many more. I just have to think like Monkey.

Hopefully, we will get Monkey's test results back in a couple of days. Usually, I have some type of gut instinct on these things, but I got nothing on this one. I am trying not to worry, but it seems only bad things happen to us. It is hard not to imagine the worst. Thank you for all of your good thoughts. I appreciate them more than you know.

Choices

I don't know what to do.

Do I wait, hoping it goes back to the way it was? Should I get the hell out of here and get on with my life? If I choose the latter, who will I become? What will I do? How will I explain my choices to Monkey? Can I live with these regrets? I am tired of choices. I don't want to choose anymore. Why can't it just be easy? Why can't things just fall into place without a fight?

I am tired.

I am tired of the struggle and the heartbreak.

Sucker Punches

While visiting my sister this weekend for my niece's first birthday, I noticed Monkey's leg was red and swollen. He had a bug bite, but I had not noticed the reaction to it. I decided to have it looked at for fear it was a spider bite. Being out of town, I didn't know who I could take him to and have my insurance pay for it so I called them. Have I mentioned that I hate insurance companies? I explain that I need a provider in the area for my son and she proceeds to ask me if it is for Monkey or Noah. What the fuck? Are you joking? Are you seriously telling me that a company of that size can't make a note or something? Got to love that. It's not the first time either. About a month after Noah died, they sent me letter of credible coverage so I could get him insurance elsewhere. Nice...The letter came on a bad day and I yelled at some poor girl and her supervisor until she cried. I am normally not that mean, but I said it was a bad day. Probably an automated letter, but really?

I don't know why I let things like that hit me so hard. I just wasn't expecting it I guess. I redeemed myself though. I did not yell at her. I didn't even tell her that he was dead. I just took a deep breath and let it go. In a sick way, it was nice to hear someone say his name. It acknowledged his life and that he was really here.

The wait begins..

I am so proud of Monkey. He was such a big boy today. There were some tears, but bubbles and mini M&M's saw him through. The chest x-ray, which I was most worried about wasn't so bad. He was able to stand while they did it instead of being put in a pigastat (a terrible contraption used to hold them still). The EKG was interesting. They put 10 leads on him. Monkey hates sticky stuff so he really didn't appreciate some strange women putting stickers all over him. The actual test itself was very quick, but all of the leads were scary for him. The tears quickly subsided and we checked out the fish in the waiting room before leaving. The hard part for Monkey is over, but it is just starting for me. It will be at least a week before we hear anything back. We live in a mid size town without a pediatric cardiologist so it gets sent away. A week. My imagination could go wild in a week and all of my wonderful research on the web will just fuel the fire. I am really trying to not look. I want to believe them that is it nothing and not worry. I did that once. It didn't work out very well. Please send us good thoughts, prayers, whatever works for you. I am running a little low on faith right now, so can I borrow some of yours? Does God or whoever is deciding our fate still listen even when we haven't been speaking lately? I'll say a prayer tonight that Noah is at peace and Monkey will be ok. Maybe it will be heard.

Please let it be nothing...

So the answer to my question of whether parenting gets easier was answered with a screaming NO today. I took Monkey for his two year check armed with questions about reflux, allergies, and ear tubes. All pretty common childhood things (ok, reflux at 2 may not be normal, but easily dealt with). We are talking and our pediatrician casually mentions a murmur when listening to Monkey's heart. The I hear the words "see a cardiologist when he comes to town in two weeks". What?? I am still back on murmur. I think I caught on just as the MAC truck hit me. No more. Please God (I am sorry for all of the terrible things I have said in the last two years), please no more of this. Not Monkey. Our Ped then tells me that he needs a EKG and chest x-ray tomorrow. What?? We came in for a well check, not a day of hell at the local hospital. Did I mention that Monkey has an irrational fear of all health care settings? All he knows is shots (Synagis) and terrible hospital stays for the flu and croup. He falls apart just driving into the parking garage of the hospital. This will not be good. To top it off, his Mama is getting ready to hyperventilate thinking about what could be wrong. The doctor said it could be nothing, but he wanted to check. He also said it could be from the PDA at birth. That confuses me. I thought that closed on its own and was gone. No one has mentioned any murmur to me since he was two weeks old. I know I was distracted with Noah, but I am pretty sure I would have picked up on a heart problem. I am scared! I don't know how to stay strong for him. I can't be sick with fear. I have to put on the happy Mama face so he is not afraid. What if something is wrong? Why do these things keep happening? Please make it all be ok. Dear God, please protect my baby. I am on my knees. Please.

Will it ever be easy?

Why does parenting seem to be so easy for some? Their children are healthy and all alive. Their children meet their milestones when they should and they take for granted the good fortune that they have. I feel their eyes as they look at me. The mess I must appear to be. The overprotective, overbearing mother pushing to get what she needs for her child. I probably call the doctor's office too often. I worry too much about milestones. I can't stop it. I live with fear. Fear of losing another. Fear of losing Monkey. I also worry that I am not doing all I can to make his life easier. Maybe I am simply overcompensating for the loss he has had to endure at such an early age. Some would say that he doesn't know loss. That he only knows what his father and I have projected onto him. I disagree. He spent 9 months with him brother in the womb and 3 months of life. He knows that his partner is gone. He sees me searching for him. He knows.

So cut me some slack, if you have never known loss and fear. I am doing my best. Maybe I am overcompensating, but Monkey deserves the world. Did I mention that we are back with Early Intervention? This is Monkey's 2nd go round. The first was for torticollis and plagiocephaly. Yes, he did wear a helmet. Yes, we did get many strange looks and dumb comments, but that is for a different day. Now, we are back with EI for speech. Apparently, they feel he is delayed in his play skills, too. I didn't know this was a category. No he does not have autism. The is the next question I seem to get. I get the look. The look from parents like horns are growing out of your head because your child is not "normal". I hate those looks. I compare it to the head tilt you get when someone discovers you have a baby that died. They tilt their head and figure out whether to be nosey and dig for more info or how to get out of there as quick as possible. The EI coordinator said I should speak to new parents about advocating for their children. I found this funny. Couldn't you picture me telling them about having babies and how to fight for them? I think I could be birth control instead. Let's be honest, what has fighting got me? A dead baby and another I seem to not be able to pull it together for. I am trying. I find the whole EI experience exhausting. It is more to cram into our day. More frustration for Monkey. Can't it just be easy? Just for once?

Love

Monkey and I visited Noah yesterday to say Happy Birthday.

We sent Noah a note to heaven...

I hope he felt our love...

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to my sweet boys! I can hardly believe that it was two years ago that I first held you in my arms. I have never felt so much love and fear at the same time. Nothing could have prepared me for the intense feelings I would have upon meeting you. You are both amazing miracles. I wanted you so much. It was surreal to finally meet you after months of waiting.

Monkey, you were short and chubby. You were perfectly happy just looking around and being held. You really didn’t cry much and seemed to sense immediately that you needed to be calm in the middle of our storm with Noah. Monkey, you provided us with hope and love, so that we could fight for your little brother. As I watch you grow from a baby into a little boy, my heart is full of your love. Your laughter is my light in the darkness that followed losing your brother. You are sweet, loving, and have the funniest sense of humor. I promise to always support you and protect you. I will love you no matter what. You are an amazing little boy and so many hold you in a special place in their hearts. You are a survivor. I would never expect you to live for two, but I know you keep your little brother’s memory in your heart. I am so sorry that you had to know sorrow so early in life. I know that Noah is with you, visiting you in your dreams. Your little brother loves you and is always watching over you.

Noah, my angel, you came into this world a fighter. You survived when the doctor’s didn’t expect you too. You were long and skinny and seemed to have the soul of a wise old man. Those big, blue eyes seemed to know the secret of life. Please know, that we tried to make the best choices we could. We wanted only the best for you. I pray that you never suffered or felt pain. I look at your pictures and feel such pride for you being my sweet boy. There is not a day that passes that I don’t think of you and miss you. Thank you for your little signs to let me know you are ok. I can feel your love in Monkey’s sweet laugh and I know you will look over and guide him on his way. As I watch him sleep and see him smile, I know you are giving him angel kisses. Noah, I will live my life to honor you. I will make sure you are not forgotten. You will never be forgotten by me. You will always be in heart. You are a part of me.



To both of my boys, I know the bond of being a twin will always stay with you. Though you are separate in this lifetime, one day you will be together again. Until then, you will be together in spirit. My best memories are of the first times you were able to sleep together. Noah, you would be so excited. You breath would quicken and you would be wide awake and alert. Monkey, you would calm and fall into a deep sleep as if to let us know that this is where you belong. I am grateful for both of my boys. I love you so very much and am so proud of you.

Happy Birthday!

I Love You,
Mommy

Here we are again

Here I am rambling through another birthday. The Turtle and the Monkey turn two tomorrow. It doesn't seem right to say it that way. Is Noah growing into a little boy or is he still a baby in heaven? I am going to believe that he is a baby with his huge blue eyes and soft cheeks. I can't believe that two years ago I was pacing the floors terrified of my impending c-section in the morning. I wasn't scared of the surgery. I was scared for Noah. I would give anything to go back. I want to do it all again. I want that time back with him.

Noah and Monkey were born by scheduled c-section. They were big and Noah was breech. He refused to move. They were born 1 minute apart. Monkey arrived first crying to announce he had arrived. Noah came next with a whimper. The delivery room was silent after that. No one talked to me. I never even saw him before they took him away. I know that they had to resuscitate him. It is all such a blur now. I wish they hadn't given me all those drugs to make me so loopy and out of it. I can't remember it clearly now. I want to remember those first moments.

I am trying so hard to give Monkey a good day, but it so hard. I want to crawl in bed and just stay there and cry. Things with my husband are so bad and he is being patronizing about Noah. He treats me like he is so strong and I am being weak by being so sad. I sat down today and just cried. I'm not talking about a few tears. I am talking about throw yourself on the floor and bawl kind of crying. I am so sad, hurt, and angry. I am so mad at him for being so selfish. I am angry that he takes away from my grief. I told him that I didn't want to visit the cemetery with him. He takes what is sacred to me and minimizes it. I know he misses his son too, but it is just the way he acts. I am so disappointed in the person he has become. He is definitely not the man I married.

I will do my best to be happy for Monkey tomorrow. We will visit his "Bubba" and play in the park. We will have a good day if it kills me. He deserves that. I will save my tears for after he goes to bed. I will hold Noah's blanket and imagine his smell. I will pray for dreams of my boys.

Fear

I am so tired. Tired of waiting. Tired of being sad and lonely. I want to change my life, but how do I do that when I don't know if my family will be intact any time soon. I keep telling myself that I need to take control of what I can change. Me. I think control may be what caused so many of my marital problems to start with.

I am a closet phobic. In college, I sat in a Chemistry test my freshman year and lost it. I seriously thought I would die. It took another semester for me to get brave enough to move back to college. In one night, 18 years of trying to be perfect and good enough turned into a struggle for the remainder of my life to suppress the panic. A panic attack feels like you are dying. I used to wish I would die, but ultimately that is what I was afraid of. Every fear I have is based off of my fear of dying. I am terrified to fly and hate driving on the highway. My fear of driving is more about having a panic attack while driving than the actual driving itself. I know my fears are not rational, but yet they still control my life. Since that fateful day, I have never felt good enough. I let go of my dreams and played it safe. That worked out well...

When Noah died, I didn't feel so afraid of dying. If I did, I would be with him. Lately though, I worry about Monkey growing up without his mother. I think of dying a lot. Some days I am torn about life in general. I don't want to die, but still I think about it. Maybe it is my lack of faith. My need to know if anyone will remember me. If I will truly be with Noah again. How do I stop being afraid of the inevitable? I want to live my life now. I want to be happy. I want Monkey to have a mother who embraces life. I just don't know how.

I started taking the Lexapro several weeks ago and stopped because I hated how it made me feel. I am not sure now that it wasn't just anxiety. I am that person who reads the slip with your prescription that outlines all of the terrible things it can cause. I really need to stop that . I made an appointment with the therapist I had seen a couple of times. Maybe someone else can sort through all of these thoughts in my head. Maybe I will try the Lexapro again.

It is time to take care of me. I just don't know how.