Day 6: Rituals

I wasn't really sure what to write for today's post.  I was thinking about how we honor our boys.  Then I realized I have a lot of rituals.

Like the fact that when I'm stressed, nervous, or upset, I rub my necklace.  The necklace I wear every day with the boys' ashes in it.  I only take it off to shower.  And if I don't remember it, I feel off all day.  When I traveled not too long ago (flying), I was scared to take it...scared it could get confiscated or that I'd lose it.  I felt SO lost my entire vacation...like I was constantly forgetting something.  Almost as bad as feeling like I'd left my children at home...which I guess I had, in a way.

But probably the two biggest rituals in our house...Christmas ornaments.  It was what I had wanted to do for my boys before they were born...they would each get a Christmas ornament each year so that when they grew up and left home, they would have a personal collection to take with them.  So I haven't given up on that.  I bought two beautiful ornaments for them for their first Christmas.  I couldn't bring myself to buy the "baby's 1st Christmas" ornaments, but I bought ones with their stats on them.  And I've already bought beautiful ornaments with their names for this Christmas.  Eventually I think they may need their own tree...and that's okay!  Whatever it takes.

The other ritual is the boys' birthday.  I plan on doing something special...releasing something special every year.  This year we did the lanterns.  Next year, hopefully we'll have a baby and can all do balloons.  And maybe butterflies some year.  I don't know.  Just something fun each year.  A ritual of celebrating their birthday and honoring them in some way.  We spent a lot of time at home this year on their birthday, but I'd really like to start a ritual of going somewhere or doing something else special, too.  Like hiking somewhere every year to release the balloons or butterflies or something.  I don't know.  Or family photos every September 3.  I'm still working on ideas.  I know I struggle with deciding on the best ways to honor my boys still.  I just feel like nothing will ever be good enough...still struggling with that...just as I struggled to pick their urns...to bring them home...it just became instinctual eventually.  I hope that will happen again when it comes to all this.

Day 5: Memories

I'm not sure that anything speaks more than these two pictures.  This is one day I need two pictures.  One for each of my babies.  And coincidentally the best memory I have of both of them is the first time I got to hold each of them.

With Andrew, the first time I got to hold him was also the last.  I remember watching doctors and nurses trying so hard to keep him alive and I knew it was no use and all I could think was how badly I wanted to just hold my son.  To make sure that he could feel my presence before his spirit left...so that he knew how much I loved him and how badly it was going to hurt when he was gone.  The feeling when the nurse handed him to me for the first time...I have never felt more like a mother than in that moment.  Holding my son, crying, and telling him over and over again how much I loved him.  Somehow I think I needed that to get through the following weeks watching Samuel struggle and to be able to let him go, too.  Maybe that's the best memory Andrew could have given me.  Strength.  I think Andrew gave me strength and a will to fight for his brother.

Holding Samuel for the first time was so different.  He was warm, breathing.  His heart was beating.  And it felt refreshing.  To hold a living baby.  My baby.  It was also why it was so important.  To show me that there was hope.  That maybe I would be bringing home a living, breathing baby.  Unfortunately I was not that lucky, but this picture marked the first FAMILY picture of us with our little boy that we thought would be coming home with us.  I am forever grateful to our nurse for taking it because it marks such a happy moment.  And she knew how badly I needed to hold him, too.  So that I could have hope that he would be okay.  That he would make it.  I loved ever moment stroking his sensitive, beautiful, soft skin.  Feeling his heart beat and hands and feet move against my body as I had when I was pregnant.  It was a pure miracle holding him.  Knowing I made him and he was so perfect and tiny.  If only holding him had been enough.

There are so many memories...but holding my babies are by far the best moments of my life.

Day 4: Legacy

I like to think that Cam and I are our boys legacy.  That the people we have become...the things we do.  Those represent our boys.  For me, I feel as though I have become a better version of me.  That I have learned how to live and let go.  How to move on and live my life.  And give back.

Our March of Dimes team in May was proof of our ability to give back and our boys legacy.  How many people showed up to support us and Kristy and Mark.  That's Samuel's & Andrew's legacy.  They will live on through the deeds we do.

And now...the fact that we want to start a charity to help couples struggling with infertility after loss.  That will be another part of their legacy.  Because I refuse to let my sons' names go down in history without a legacy.  Because my husband and I will never stop saying their names.  That is how they will continue to live on in life.  Through us.  Through the life that we live.

Day 3: Myths

Today's topic is myths...how do you take a picture and capture that?  I chose a bridge...because there's there's this belief that when you get to 1 year, when you have another, when you go out for the first time.  So many things people think will make this journey easier.

A year ago when I was participating in this project, I was only a few weeks out...I didn't know that getting to one year wouldn't make it easier.  I had this idealistic thought that if I could just make it to one year.  That if I could just have another baby.  It would be easier.  That's a lie.  It's what we tell ourselves, I think, to get through the first year, but it's a lie.  A year doesn't make it easier.

The same myths exist around infertility.  That if you just get pregnant, it will get easier.  The fear will go away because you've overcome that hurdle.  Nope.  I was scared my entire pregnancy.  And now I will be doubly as scared during my next pregnancy until that baby is home...and even then, I'm sure I'll continue to be scared and worried about my baby every day of his or her life.

But the truth is...when I do finally bring that baby home, I know that it will be a new set of challenges.  It won't be easier, it will just be different.  You learn to accommodate your life to this new set of normals.  A life where two of your children are in heaven and you continue dealing with the infertility stuff.  A life where your living children learn that they have angel brothers, not two big brothers that are here to harass them.  A new life.  A different life.  Not an easier life...but a different one.

Capture Your Grief: Day 2: Identity

The picture above represents the two stuffed animals I purchased for my boys. Never could I have picked better animals to represent the completely different personalities of my boys even before I knew them.

Samuel, born first, my little monkey. Even before he was born, he was doing somersaults and kicking my bladder. Punching and kicking his brother. And after he was born, he would throw his arms and feet around. And he was feisty. A true fighter. Born at 1lb, 6oz and 12.5" long, he was a lot of little boy packed into a tiny little body. He looked just like his daddy, cow licks and all. Never could any little boy look more like my husband. There was no doubt in my mind they were related. I have memorized every feature of him over and over, hoping I will never forget a thing. His name...Samuel Earl. His daddy picked his first name a long time ago and it also happens to be Cam's great grandfathers name. His middle name a strong family name on both sides of our family. 

There was never a calmer, more peaceful little boy than my Andrew. He definitely did not want to be born as early as he was. He fought his way out, but he was so calm. A true little lamb. Never too wiggly and so peaceful. I didn't get to know his personality nearly as we'll as Samuel, but he was truly a cute little boy. I like to think he looked much more like me than his daddy. But his eyes never opened. The only personality I learned was his personality while he was inside me. Born smaller than his brother at 1lb 2oz and 10.75", he definitely had a lot to make up. 4oz doesn't seem like a lot and really holding them I didn't notice the difference. What I did notice was the difference in how sick they were. Andrew was just so sick. I think that's a lot of the reason he was so calm. I would love to know if he would have ended up being my wild child eventually, but I will never know. His name didn't come as easily as his brother. Originally he was supposed to be Adam, but we changed our minds and brainstormed names for quite a few nights before coming up with Andrew. But now I know there was no better name for my little boy. His middle name, Thomas, also did not come as easily. We picked it just days before the boys were born. But it fits. His uncle has the same middle name and it is his grandfathers first name. The name just rolls off the tongue perfectly. 

My boys, their names, their identities, are perfect to me and nothing and no one will ever replace them. Their names and remembering them bring tears to my eyes every time. Nothing is greater than your mommy's and daddy's love for you, Samuel and Andrew.

Capture Your Grief: Day 1:Sunrise

Today marks the beginning of Child and Infant Loss Awareness Month. CarlyMarie created the Capture Your Grief project to help remember our little ones in this month as well as help us brought our grief. Today's topic was Sunrise to mark the beginning of the project. 

This morning was not really a great morning for a sunrise. It was extremely foggy. But I tried. I got out of bed for a few minutes at 7 this morning to snap this photo. I'm sick today. I don't think I've felt this crappy in a long, long time. But for once its physically not emotionally. Though the sun coming up every day is still a reminder to me that it's coming up on a world without my sons. A world where I am one day further from holding them in my arms. Another day away from missing them. Another day where I hold them in my heart not my arms. 

But I have learned to live. To know how to cope in this new normal. That's not to say that every day is perfect, but I survive. I survive because I have hope that one day, the sun will rise on the day I get to hold my boys again. That they will have siblings that I can cuddle and love and raise into beautiful members of society. Someday the sun will rise on a happy day with my family reunited. 

The Firsts

Today is September 25.  It's the last "first" with our boys.  The day we said goodbye to Sammy.  The day I held my little boy while he took his last breath...while his heart beat for nearly 20 minutes after he stopped breathing.  My miracle baby who held on long enough to make me actually feel like a mom...if even for just 3 short weeks.