Thinking of you today

Dear Boys,
Today was the first day that I was able to be alone.  And by alone I mean no phone, no body talking to me, just me and my thoughts, and wanting to have some quiet time with you.  But since I was driving to the doctors, every time I tried to think of either of you, I got very emotional, and started to cry.  So needless to say, I turned up the radio and just sang.  What else could I do? I know both of you listened to my wonderful radio singing...and you knew how it would calm me down.
Your dad has your sisters looking for pennies now.  He found one at the ice cream stand last night.  And he went searching around for the other one.  Your sisters wanted to know what he was looking for...and I explained it to them.  So now they are looking for pennies, if you can spare a few for them.
Your sisters are also asking a lot of questions about you boys today.  I'm answering them the best I can, but I know they miss you both, and really want a baby brother.  Instead of a funeral for Rango, your sisters want to have a party instead.  What do you think about that?  If we release balloons, will you catch them for us (and share them with your friends up there?  I know you must be playing with Arianna and your other little friends, and your great grandparents!).  It does make me a little happier knowing that you two have each other, and have other friends to play with.
I miss you both.  I love you both.
Love,
Mommy

Dear Boys...

Thank you for the two pennies we found in the airport yesterday.  Again, your dad found them before I noticed. But he told me he looks for them.  He also found only one at the resort before we left Florida...I told him one of you must not have been paying attention, or was slacking off.  Now I think it was just in a spot we couldn't see.
And I know its silly, but the lizards always seemed to come out as I walked--instead of running away, they would watch me carefully.  Did either of you have anything to do with that?  I've never been able to look at and examine a lizard quite that carefully!  I told your daddy I think you two are watching over me.
But when we were walking on the beach, talking about trying for another baby (your dad is ready, I'm not.), we both found the same exact type of shell at the same time, and the only difference is that one was bigger than the other.  I know you boys are trying to communicate with us, and you both need to know how much that means to me and your dad.  There isn't a day that goes by that we don't think of you, and miss you both so much.  Rango, we got your pictures yesterday in the mail.  Your dad and I want to put them all in a frame.  Robbie, your ultrasounds will go first, then Rango's ultrasound and one of the pictures from when we could hold him.
We love you both so much, and miss you so much!
Love,
Mommy

It feels like not only has a scab been removed, but cut open and cut deeper.  I thought after Robbie died my heart couldn't shatter anymore.  I thought I couldn't hurt that badly once the scab began to heal.  But I was wrong.  Now I am mourning two sons, not just one.  And all the while I compare myself to where I was this time with Robbie (weight wise, emotional wise, how capable I was of leaving the house at certain days after the d & e).  And I feel guilt because I feel like this new hurt about Rango is overshadowing the grief for Robbie that is still present.  That while I want either, (preferably both) of my boys with me, I know that Robbie didn't come back, and neither will Rango.
This pain, this grief is indescribable.  There aren't words to express what I am thinking or feeling.

Take care of your brother

Dear Robbie,
Today you met your little brother, Rango.  I hope you two don't fight like your older sisters!  Please play with him, and be nice to him.  You two are both very special to me, and my heart is broken that I will never be able to hold either of you.  But I am glad that you two will have each other.  I hope that one day I will be able to play with you two finally, but for now, get to know each other and love each other.  Know that your mommy and daddy and all of your great big family love you and miss you!  We would give anything to have you with us and your sisters.
You will both always be my little boys.  I love you Robbie!  Give your brother a hug and a kiss everyday from me.
Love,
Mommy

This is my 4th pregnancy

At a wedding Friday night, several people came up and asked me when I was due.  Which was followed by was this my first pregnancy/child.  To be honest, while I knew this question would get asked, I wasn't prepared to answer it completely.  I knew, and have been answering that this is my 4th pregnancy, and I have two little girls at home.  A few people gave me an odd look, as I could see they were crunching the numbers in their heads.  2 girls at one, one due in October, there was 1 child missing.
But lucky for me my husband was right next to me, and while I had decided 1) it wasn't anybody's business about our third child 2) it was a happy occasion, and I would not be the downer in the guest list, my husband wasn't bashful at all.  In fact, it was the first time I've ever seen him initiate Robbie's story.  To anyone.  I was so touched, and so emotional, at how he talked about Robbie and what happened, and answered the questions as guests asked (to be fair, they were strangers to me, but they knew my husband).
The next day, as I reflected on this, my husband wanted to go to the cemetery where we planted the tree for Robbie, to make sure it was doing okay.  It was too much for me emotionally to handle.  I was in tears as we drove through the cemetery, knowing how much my husband loves his soon Robbie, and how much we miss him.  We are looking forward to Rango, and already love him so much.  But to know that Robbie is so close to us every day, and that neither one of us will forget him, is so bittersweet and heartwrenching.
And for the first time I realized how much not just I have changed, but how he has changed as well, and how our marriage has grown.  I was forced to finally look outside of how this affected me, to how it affected my husband, and how we interact.  And seeing him talk about Robbie and initiate going to the cemetery made me realize how grateful I am for such an amazing husband.  He didn't shut me out, when he could have.  We grieve together (because I don't think we'll ever stop grieving for what should have been), we celebrate together, and we remember together.

When One Door Closes....

I have to say in the last 6 months this expression, or anything similar to it, has become my most despised "words of comfort".  To realize that 6 months ago our lives were exposed to the extreme grief and darkness that follows a loss such as ours (while it was a stillbirth, he was still our little boy), and didn't know how to make it through day by day, being here today and still standing is amazing.  Mario and I have prioritized, making our family first, and limiting how much stress can come from work.  Maybe this was more of a lesson for me than him.  But it still hurts to think that we should have a 2 month old right now.  I am grateful for Rango. For our opportunity to have another child, that maybe Robbie just wasn't "finished" yet.  Today we took a tree (dwarf tree) and planted it by my husband's grandparents grave (Robbie's namesakes are his great-grandfathers...Robert for Mario's grandfather, and Francis for mine).  It was emotional, and sad, but we knew we had to do it.  We had been putting it off for too long.  I thought the 6th month anniversary was appropriate.  Just every time we remember that scab gets ripped off again.  But as we watered the tree, and cried, the sun did break through.  We came home, took the dog to park and let him swim in the lake, and then came home and got cleaned up.
But I have yet to see what good is coming from Robbie's death.  Or what door is going to open next...it doesn't make sense--still.
I also learned this week that my district is non-renewing me for next school year.  Ouch.  Not completely unexpected, but to think of everything we've been through, and what a support system this school has been during these last 6 months, it was still a bit of a shock when I was called in for the conference on Wednesday.
But, this is where the constant support and people hugging me may have made it worse for me.  They kept saying that this shouldn't have happened, but something good would come out of it.
So, here's my train of thought:  Right now I would be on maternity leave.  In December/January I would have been at work, so any of the situations that did come up while I was out grieving, wouldn't have existed and would have been handled by me immediately.  If Robbie was here, I would still be returning to work in the fall in the same district.  If Robbie didn't die, I wouldn't be here right now, staring at unemployment and another non-renewal.  And I am struggling to see how these last 6 months were meant to have good come from all the events that occurred.
Can't I just get a break?  Why is it those who aren't nice and lie always seem to get ahead, and those of us who do the right thing and work hard get trampled?  Why was it my baby that died?  I just don't understand life.  And while I have been through trials throughout my entire life, I think at this point I am just tired and hurt and want things to happen easily just once.  Why can't life be fair just once in someone's life?

Bittersweetness

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of Robbie.  What he would be doing right now, what we would be doing right now, what milestones he would have made.  And each day brought with it a new set of challenges.  One of the biggest challenges I've had is talking to/looking at/ acknowledging anyone who was pregnant while I was pregnant, due around  Robbie's due date, or just plain are inconsiderate about how they act during their pregnancy (meaning complaining about the aches and pains of it, not realizing I would give anything to have felt the 3rd trimester, even late 2nd trimester pains and uncomfortableness instead of this empty ache in my heart).
And I've felt very guilty about this--babies are a wonderful gift and should be celebrated.  It saddens me to think of those women that think having a baby is a competition, and they can be the only ones pregnant at that time.  We should all be so lucky to have healthy pregnancies at the same time!  I thought this was even before we lost Robbie.  I think even more so now.  So the fact that I couldn't look at several women I work with that were pregnant (b/c they would complain in earshot of me about how they didn't fit into anything, and how fat they were, and other normal complaints), because I was so sensitive.
But this week I learned that a friend, someone who checked in on me while I was home from work grieving, is finally pregnant!  And she is super excited, and for some reason, I am excited and happy too!  And while all my fear isn't instantly gone, I feel a bit hopeful about my own pregnancy this time.  You know how they say misery loves company?  Maybe her happiness and ability to enjoy her pregnancy and not worry will rub off on me!  I was just relieved to see that I am moving past this intolerance of other pregnant women.  I know its unreasonable, and I don't know every woman's backstory--I'm sure that some women have stories just like mine.  But I am seeing this as a sign of healing, of moving forward.
I will never forget my son, my first son.  And not a day goes by that I don't wonder what he looked like, what his personality would be.  But to know he is in my heart, and I can move on and be happy with the short time I was allowed to be his mom, is okay.  Its taking baby steps, but its better than staying in the abyss forever.
There is hope, and the sorrow does lessen.  It will never go away---but it will change.