Twenty-Six

Whew. This one is going to be hard to write. I am sure you have a number that is special or memorable to you for one reason or another. For me, it's twenty-six. This number shows up an odd amount in my life. For starters, it is the day of the month when I married my handsome hubby. Our lives changed forever on the day when we said "I do." It also appears in my address, and phone number. I am twenty-six years old. Since our wedding, I've found 26 to be my "lucky" number. When I saw the number, I would smile because I would be flooded with memories of our wedding, our first home, and what a special time it was to have been "newlyweds".

Our lives changed forever {again} on the twenty-sixth, though this time it was May and not September. This time, our hearts broke into a million pieces instead of feeling whole. This time we felt empty instead of full. May 26th was the day we discovered that our babies were in heaven.

Today, here we are on July 26th. Two months. I still feel absolutely sick when I remember that day. The images and gut-wrenching emotions are forever ingrained my mind and my heart. I don't feel ready to write all of the details of that day, though maybe at some point I will. The days that followed once she shock wore off were unbearable. When I think about where I am now in my journey, and where I was two months ago, my heart breaks a little further.

For every question that was answered, a thousand more popped up. I have to understand that I will never fully understand what happened to our sweet baby boys and I know I will never understand WHY this had to happen to them. To our babies. I will never understand why. During these two months I have cried out to God, begging for understanding, peace, strength, healing, my babies. All of the above. 

Two months later, I don't cry every day, but most days I do. It is hard for me to see pregnant women, mommies with young children, and twins. I KNOW that having children is a blessing, and I am so happy for all of the miracles that are out there. My heart isn't ready to spend time with my pregnant friends, and I feel guilty for that. I feel equally thankful that they understand it's not personal in any way, and that they are supportive of me taking the time I need to heal. I have a stack of Parents magazines, unread. I still receive e-mails updating me on "My belly...week___". I delete them before opening them, and I can't open them to unsubscribe because I can't bear to see what my belly WOULD have looked like.

I have had a few genuine laughs. I've caught myself singing in the car. I count my blessing daily. Now, we're ready to try rebuilding our family again. For the first time in a long time, I have seen the slightest glimmer of hope. I'm clinging to it with all my strength.

Our babies' due date was 11/11/11. I found that to be such a special sign. Now, without explanation, I look at the clock at that exact time every morning and every night. I don't plan it, but it has happened every single day.I'm already anxious about that day approaching in a few short months. I don't need a reminder to think about my angels, beause they are ALWAYS at the forefront of my mind. But, I take a moment of silence at 11:11 each day and say a prayer for each of my babies. Maybe if you happen to look at the clock at that time, you could say a prayer for them, too.

I now see my life as everything that happened before May 26th, and everything that happened after. I know that part of me is the same, but I am different having lost my two children. I will always be changed by losing them. I cannot help but grieve for the future we will not have together, the milestones we will not experience together, the life on earth we will not live together. Even if my heart heals, it cannot heal fully because there will always be a scar. I don't want to forget. I want to remember them and their legacy. I long for the day when I look back on this experience as a chapter in my life, not the whole story.

I am unbelievably thankful for our family and friends and their endless support. These two months have been the darkest of our lives, hands down. I don't feel like I can say we "survived" because we are still living our reality. Even though it isn't the reality we imagined, we are still living. We are thankful for that and we are thankful for the opportunity to rebuild or family. Please keep your fingers, toes, eyes, arms and elbows crossed for us as we embark upon our continued journey towards parenthood. I believe in the power of prayer, so please keep them coming. Thank you for following along with us on our journey.