Just enough

 

   Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere- for a moment I will be "ok" watching Colin..smiling at his sweet face and curly blonde hair or laughing at something he has said and then I will catch a glimpse of Jacob- in a picture on the refrigerator or on the wall, while passing the toy lawn mower that he loved that I would give my life to be annoyed by again as he sped behind it- and I crumble.  I smile, I sob, I laugh, I cry, I break, I piece back just enough to get though and then I repeat. Such incredible loss. I look around sometimes at other parents and feel uncomfortable jealousy of a life that doesn't know this kind of pain.  The kind that literally takes your breath away.

     I would give anything for one more hug, one more kiss, one more, "I lubba you mommy."  I still go to bed at night thinking..oh please don't let me wake up as I think about my baby who I miss and long for just as much as I adored and loved him when he was here.  I love and miss him more everyday just like I love Colin more with each passing day.  Colin- leaving this world might let me be with half of my heart while leaving the other behind.  It is a horrible struggle I feel every moment that I think I just can't take another step, live another minute, take another breath without him. 

.....then I wake up and piece just enough together...just enough.

 And I can go for a few hours with friends and smile and laugh..then drive the whole way home crying.  We took Colin to the pumpkin patch and I cried so hard in the parking lot walking out remembering Jacob the two years passed, that I saw more than 1 person staring. 

 

This is our life- so much pain mixed with so many loving friends and family...and our Colin. 

I have a hard time being around people who didn't know Jacob- who never met him or who don't know that I have twins.  It feels scary and unreal. Its hard to describe and yet I don't know if this will ever really change.  I looked around at all of our friends who came to Jacob's memorial site a few weeks ago to help release butterflies and balloons to our little man and I thought..we love these people...because they mean so much to us but also because each and everyone of them carries just a small piece of Jacob by knowing him...by remembering something he did or said or what he looked like and that is the Jacob we have today.  Its all we have and I love them- everyone of them.  Its our memories of him and for us its the part of our hearts he will always take up fully despite the emptiness and loss. 

I smile, I sob, I laugh, I cry, I break, I piece back...never all the way, but for now just enough.

I love you Jacob and Colin--with every part of me...

                                           

Leaning Over....

Jacob's crib is still the way it always was. After he died, (almost 6 months and writing that still makes me want to throw up), we took Colin's crib down and got him a big boy bed with new sheets and new colors.  Both the boys names were on the wall in hanging letters and I decided that I couldn't take Jake's down without something else in its place..it felt so wrong--just like our lives without him feel so wrong and so empty.  So I got new ones for Colin in red and behind Jacob's crib I put up pictures and different letters...ones I wish never came out our mouths..

The letters are behind his crib- I just thought having those there might make taking his crib down someday easier for us.  We hung them low so Colin would always be able to see pictures of Jake and most of them are the two of them together.  But, we can't do it. His crib still covers the letters and pictures.   His bed is such a place of pain and tears now- once a place of peace and such joy.  I remember going in and staring at him, sometimes I would pick him up--just Jacob and feel his head on my shoulder and his little hand in mine.  I didn't do this with Colin because I knew he would be up for good..but Jacob snuggled and fell back asleep- what.I.wouldn't.give. 

Now, I can't count the number of nights I have gone into the boys room after Colin has fallen to sleep-- I tuck him in and make sure he is ok and then I turn to Jacobs crib and just lean over the rail and cry.  I touch his bed and almost can feel him sleeping there imagining running my fingers through his hair like I used to and covering his feet with his blankie.  I can see his head.  I lean over the rail for what seems like an hour and run my fingers over the places on his crib rail that he started to chew before we realized what was going on and quickly covered it up.  I am so glad we didn't get it fixed.  Its like a part of him..where he was and what he did and I lean there over that rail and run my fingers over that area over and over until there are just no more tears left. 

The other night I caught Russ doing the same thing...leaning, tears.  Why does this have to be our life.  Why have we lost our sweet baby. 

Tomorrow we are bringing Colin to school for the first time.  I can't believe that I won't see Jacob's little blonde head next to Colin's going down that hallway.  It is almost too much to bare. We were trying to get the camera together earlier and I noticed Russ fumbling with the battery..I asked him what was wrong before I realized he was just so sad, so heartbroken too sitting on the floor of his office imagining tomorrow as he tearfully said--he should be going to the 2s class too.  I would give anything to take away just some of the pain I see in my husband.  I am tired.  I just want my son back, I want my husbands little guy, my Colin's twin brother..I want and miss every part of him and realize that he makes up so much of each of us and that is what is heart wrenching trying to get through each day.

One day at a time.  I hope we can get through this week and find some joy and happiness in our little boy, Colin's smile.  I hope we can take pictures of him and be excited for his first day tomorrow- because he saves me everyday. I love you so much Colin Joseph.  You are my love and my everyday reminder of our sweet Jacob too- I see so much of him in you and your heart.  You are so, so sweet and I am so, so proud of you.  I wish more than anything for you, my sweet Colin, more than anyone, that this picture from your very first day of school ever with Jake just got older and older..I'm going to do my very best to show you as much love and happiness as I can and less tears and emptiness as times goes on in the hopes that I learn to feel closer to Jacob and carry him in our hearts- you deserve the world Col-baby.

Slow down, you're moving too fast...

The other night I was getting Colin ready for bed time routine and I went to the kitchen to get his milk and I pulled down two cups and open both tops and started to pour the milk...I stopped half way, put the milk down and just felt the familiar nauseating sadness- an emptiness that makes me feel like a shell of myself and I can feel my shattered life around me physically-its indescribably almost.  He is here...he has to be.  He is upstairs, in his room, walking through the foyer pushing his toy lawn mower.  He is supposed to be anyway..

2 weeks ago I missed our counseling sesion to bring food to Charlotte and visit with Russ's dad who just had surgery.  It was amazing to me how missing one week of talking with him felt like I sunk a little deeper.  His gift is helping us through the most difficult time of our lives---I told him how this had happened and he said something to the effect of --our brains are wired to be Jacob's mom and dad--of course you got out two cups.  The heart and mind take time to catch up to such amazing loss. Will I ever? Will I ever feel true happiness again? Will I ever be able to look at a picture of Jacob and feel grateful, smile at his memory- sure with a hole in my heart that will never go away- but with some real and true joy again?

Slow down, you're moving too fast...

He said if he was a betting man, he would say yes.  Oh how I hope this is true.  Oh, how I wish I could move fast.  I am still falling fast though--some days just deeper and deeper into missing my little man and everything about him.  I can still feel his little body against me when I would pick him up to take him upstairs.  Scarily, I feel like there are a lot of memories that I no matter how hard I try, I can't remember.  But some moments are there..and are so vivid.   I look at pictures and think..he only had two months left to live.  I think about me, my life at the time, how easy it all was and yet how sometimes I felt like it wasn't juggling trying to be the best mom to them I could, my job and being a good wife, daughter and friend---I had no idea how easy it was.  So much is now hard and the hardest thing is imagining a life missing Jacob and his sweet voice and laugh and smile and beautiful blue eyes looking at me everyday. Imagining this pain for the next 50 years, the next 1 year, the next month and sometimes the next minute is more that I feel I can handle most moments of my days.  What happened...what happened? My buddy who was so sweet, so layed back...he loved life and lived everyday like it was his last....

                                          At Nana's Beach...



I heard a voicemail message from someone so dear to me and close to my heart...he lives far away now, but he is the one pediatrician, father and person I looked up to the most as my mentor through high school and all the way through residency and later... a friend.  He was calling to say he cared-- to say he wanted to talk-- to let us know he and his wife were praying and thinking of us..(these calls mean the very most to me--even if I can't always pick up because I feel so alone a lot)...I sobbed through the whole voicemail though because hearing his voice-- in an instant I realized he might know how it might feel as a doctor to imagine this kind of pain and this kind of wondering how your baby could die 25 feet from your room, and just never being able to know the medical cause or reason...how to wrap my head around this.  It just doesn't make sense and I hate it.  I miss him and his wife and children who I used to babysit for when I was in college and high school. Now their baby is going to college and I thought of them--  This man influenced me in so many ways..to become a pediatrician..his wife made me know what kind of mom I wanted to be and how to run a big family that I knew I wanted more than anything.  I was so innocent and wide-eyed...just like I think back to how I used to be when I had both my boys with such ease and happiness, I think back to that time with them and just wish I had that again.   This just wasn't ever what I expected and now my worst fear is living in pain without my baby.  

For now, I search for hope.  I search for hope that I will someday hold my sweet Jacob again and everyday that goes by, I need to hold onto Colin and Russ tight as we journey to that day.  God give me the grace and faith to get through my days and learn how to pray to you again...really pray in faith like I used to...and to live for my husband and Colin...for now.

In Charleston..our first trip without Jake

Butterflies

       We found out that our last hope of finding out what happened to our sweet boy is gone.  The genetic screening for heart rhythm problems came back negative.  Russ and I just felt like we were thrown backwards to that day and the familiar place of such despair.  How will we go on without our Jacob and without knowing why...or how?  He was healthy and perfect...and alive and sweet...and gone.  He wasn't healthy?  He was and his heart stopped?  That doesn't happen..he had a virus.  And so I spiral.
       At some point it has to end.  Our baby is gone and yet Colin is here and somehow so are we.  We talked in counseling yesterday how hard it is for me to hear people who really do mean well--I know they do---say--I am a better mom, better person, I love my children more now.  It hurts my heart so much because I didn't want Jacob to die and be the reason others are better parents-- I think how they have their children to love more and I don't..and it hurts.  I wish it didn't hurt so much.  Oh Jacob, I would give anything..give up anything..and I mean anything...to just kiss your chubby little cheek one more time.  That kind of longing and want is indescribable.
       So I beg and plead...maybe to God..when I am struggling with my faith and hurt, just out loud to no one...I plead to see him again...see him somehow in our lives still, or even in a dream.  I want to know that somehow, he is still with me. People relate butterflies to childhood death because they live for such a short time and are so beautiful.  My neighbor, who lost her sweet little girl when she was 3 years old, sent me a picture of two butterflies who were flying around our yards and how she thought of Jacob and Lillie.  I have seen them lately in our yard and I think of Jacob and Lillie. Maybe they are playing in heaven.  Then,  I got the call from the genetics doctor when I was at the pool with Colin and a dear friend (thankful for her presence because don't know what I would have done).  I saw the number on my pager and I immediately felt the weight of my grief crushing.  I sat down alone on the basketball court that Jacob loved and could see him running around as my already broken heart broke just a little more hearing her words cut like a knife.  No answer.  "We will never know- I don't know how one does this and lives not knowing but we just have no answer."  A butterfly appeared right then and as I sat listening to her words, I saw it dance around in front of my eyes- so beautiful and seemingly happy--just like my Jacob.  
       When your little boy dies who was seemingly so very perfect and healthy and very well may have been, and no one can tell you why--or how--you enter into a new struggle with mind and heart.  How will I protect Colin? Can I still have more children? How will I protect them?  I am a doctor and didn't see anything..how can I protect them? I can't so I won't have more...but that thought hurts so much.  I still feel like I am going to see Jacob in a few minutes.  He can't be gone..he has to be in his crib, with our sitter, at home.  It hurts so much.  I am scared for what it will feel like when I stop feeling that way too.  I am told by others who have gone through this nightmare that about 6 months after, that feeling subsides and it is another valley.  I am tired of the valleys...physically tired.
         This week in this new low, I have become withdrawn from my life--in the same way I did in the weeks after losing Jacob.  I faked it through work-I have become a master at a facade of "ok".  I feel really alone with a feeling of nowhere to turn.  But I do turn to Russ--he hurts so much too though.  Last night we layed in bed foreheads pressed against each others crying so hard I didn't know who's tears were on my cheek..mine or his...I felt my heart break a little more.
          I want this to change.  For now I am going to will my little family to make it through just tomorrow.  I will think of my little guy a thousand times and will continue to tell stories to Colin and love him with every part of what is left of me tomorrow and I hope I am able to see some signs that Jake is still with us. I miss you angel...

      

Nana's Beach

I think I cried all the way between Raleigh and Topsail.  Jake really loved "Nana's beach" when we took him to dig in the sand a few weeks before he died.  I couldn't wait to take him this summer because for the first time they were really going to really love it. I am such an anticipator with my buddies.  I would get so excited that Russ would refer to me as a toddler right before Christmas and their birthdays, Great Wolf Lodge, Vacations, Halloween, Easter, even Valentines Day..I just loved to do special things for them and it was so fun to see how excited they would get with each other.  I can't help but wonder if I will ever be this way again.  Will I ever decorate our house again for Christmas and be excited--really and truly excited? Will I ever look forward to a vacation again and be truly excited?  But Colin...but Colin.  I love him and this enormous love so far has saved me and I want it for him. I do.

I sat in the sand staring at the enormity of the water in front of me and just longed to feel closer to him...looking over at Colin though carrying his bucket proudly over to his cousin whom he adores, all I could feel was loss--Jacob adored her too...Jacob adored Nana and her beach too...All I could feel was that hole that sucks me in and makes me physically sick from a feeling of falling.  I couldn't wait to see them play in the sand this year and run in the surf.  Such a simple thought that made me so incredibly happy to imagine in anticipation now just resulted in me crying myself to sleep every night at the beach.

I know it is just another one of these "firsts" without our baby.  I looked around at other people with their children and felt that hole and envy of the carefree happiness I saw everywhere.   I again wondered if Russ and I will ever be able to get there again.  It doesn't seem possible honestly.  I was so happy to have my mom there playing with Colin in the ocean making him smile seeing her smile beyond all of her pain having lost Jake and in a way...me.  I was so happy to have my cousin sitting next to me in the sand and my little cousin happily playing with Colin letting him imitate her every move.  It gave me some comfort.   Again though, I thought about the statistic..1 in 100,000...why our Jacob..why Russ, Colin and me.  Why?  I see so much pain in eyes of abused children, I see so many parents who just don't care about their children which is totally unfathomable to me--I know it sounds terrible, but I hear of so many people who abort children because they find out they aren't going to be perfect.  It kills me.  Why did this have to happen to our family.  Why if there has to be that 1 in 100,000, why did it have to be him????  I miss him so much.

Our heartache has gotten a little deeper over the past few weeks as friends and some family go "back" to their lives.  I knew it would happen--I just didn't know how much it would really hurt.  My heart is still in a million pieces.  I still sob so hard I can't breathe every day. I know it sounds terrible and completely irrational but I feel like screaming sometimes, "please I still need you so much- Jacob is gone- he died and he was perfect.  He had something fatally wrong with him and we had no idea, we missed it and still have no idea- I am so desperately sad still" but I know I can't. I still hide an enormous amount of pain behind a usually forced smile and an appearance of--I can do this.  The truth is--I don't know that I can. I hurt way deeper than I ever did.  My feelings are hurt so much easier.  I feel the "loss" as I realize that in some friendships there was a temporary closeness as they grieved for Jacob or maybe just the thought of it being their own child and then they slowly fade from our more everyday lives.  This is the kind of thing, that I could handle in stride before.  Now it feels so personal--I know its not but it feels like I am being punched in the stomach and it stings. Still, I think we have both discovered the friendships and family relationships that help us out of "the hole" over and over and we are so thankful because it really has yet to get any more shallow.

I hope that over time, our hole fills in, little by little. I pray that our love for Jacob and the memory of him and the sheer and utter joy he brought to us and everyone around him will help it fill up...little by little I hope it fills up. Grain by grain....I hope we can find our way to level ground again with some joy and even anticipation...until I see you again Jacob and hold you in my arms. 

Is He crying?

The morning Jacob died- not in the hospital but the morning of March 24th when I truly believe Jacob went home to heaven- was a rainy morning.  The sun didn't shine that day at all. I remember thinking snuggling with Colin in bed before we knew that Jacob had passed away believing he was getting some much needed extra sleep that his brother never let him have...that I just couldn't wait to spend the rainy day with my boys in their PJs.  I thought how we wouldn't get dressed and I smiled.  I loved them so much and I remember my feelings of happiness, love, warmth and just peace that morning thinking about being with all three of my boys that day with no particular plans--such a rare event.

That feeling is palpable to me and yet almost indescribable and I fear that I know that I will never again feel such peace...such joy and expectation...such love and happiness as I did that rainy morning before my world crumbled and my heart broke into a million pieces.  I hear my screams that came after that my sweet baby was dead and again just like so many times that I have cried since then, I don't even recognize what or who I am hearing.  Is that me?  The sobbing and screaming come from such a deep place of sorrow and despair that I can't even recognize it.

Since that day, it seems that it has been raining ever since.  A dear friend of mine bought us a rain gauge and I can't count the number of times I have had to pour it out as it reached 10 inches.  It occurred to me yesterday that maybe...just maybe, God was crying for us that day and so it was reflected in the rain...and just maybe, God has been crying so much ever since--just like Russ and me.

My grief is overwhelming.  For some reason, it feels it is getting worse. I sometimes thought that time would help.  So far, time has not been our friend.  Lately Russ and I just struggle with my thoughts of that morning and why this happened.  I struggle with all consuming (literally) guilt and blame.  What could I have done differently? Did he suffer? Did he struggle and wonder where his "mama" was?  Did he think I left him and I let him struggle? Oh God, please give me a peace that he didn't struggle, that you took him home in peace and he never knew to be scared.  Please give me some sign that he was taken home in an instant, that he went to sleep knowing he was loved and the next thing he knew, he was in eternal loveliness and joy in heaven.  I can't go on with this question and so I pray this everyday.  I often thought it was wrong to pray for a "sign" or be told of Gods presence because that is not true faith.  Faith is believing without seeing...but I need to see.  I need to know I will see him again and I didn't let my baby suffer and die.  I don't understand. I still watch the video from the fateful birthday party the day before..I watch it over and over looking for some sign that he was going to die hours later.  He looked so happy.  He looked so incredibly alive and smart and sweet and cute.  He ate cupcakes and picked up Easter eggs.  He smiled and then he whined.  Did the whine mean something, did I miss something?  I miss you so much my baby boy. I loved you more each day which I never could have imagined possible after the way I felt the first day I met you- but here I am my heart spilling with love for you and I know that will never change.  I want to hold you again.

I hold Colin and hug him so incredibly tight. I watch him breathe, I smile at his sweet face and think about his truly kind spirit to others.  Colin is so adorable.  People still stop me in stores and out commenting how beautiful he is, how pretty his hair, how sweet his face and eyes.  I always got so much attention with the boys and always believed it was just because they were twins- blonde twins and were maybe just a sight to people.  I just assumed that would stop and when people stop me with Colin now, I look at him and just feel so very proud of this vibrant, smart, kind little boy.  He speaks with prepositions and long sentences- his thought processes are crazy for a 2 1/2 year old and I just love him so much.  He is my world right now and I am so thankful for him.  I always tell him he is my "love bunk."  Today, out of the blue, he said, "Mommy, are you my love bunk?" I looked over at him today playing sweetly and independently with his blocks singing to himself and again, my heart broke for him...he should have his twin brother to play with.  It's not fair.  It just can't be right and I wish it was different for him.  Still, he has adjusted and he is so resilient.  I admire my little person and his spirit and his confidence. 

I love you Colin for all that you are to me and your daddy.  I love you Jacob for all who you are to our family and always will be---and I can't wait to hold you again.

For now, the rain are tears...

Jammies

The other night I was cleaning out some of Colin's drawers.  Before we had gotten home from withdrawing support on Jacob, I had asked my mom to help take out at least the double clothes and the highchair because I knew that I just would not be able to survive seeing them right away.  There were days right after when I realized that was a mistake.  I miss him so badly, I want to see him everywhere- honestly I do anyway.  I walk up the stairs holding the railing and see him climbing up the outside and sliding down the slats (this almost always made my heart skip a beat before I could tell him to get down).  I look out the corner window of our family room and see Jake sitting below the window with the sunlight shining on his golden white hair with his legs stretched out and 10 books piled up around him slowly and carefully turning each page--a sight that always made me stop in my tracks and feel such immense love that it almost felt overwhelming.  I go down the basement stairs behind Colin and I see Jacob walking next to him, holding his hand--another heart stopping moment for me when he was alive.  So being a little sad that his things were moved didn't really end up mattering too much because I see him everywhere...all the time.  This is a source of comfort as well as can be a huge source of such intense pain, that I honestly can't handle the thought of taking another breath.  Crushing grief. 

I thought I had gotten all the winter PJs out when I pulled out two last pairs.  The sight made me burst into tears- something that I try not to do when I can in front of Colin but it just hit me so hard- it felt like I had been hit with a sledge hammer..again...to see two of these jammies.  They were Jakes favorite- covered in "bagutballs and soccer balls and footballs!!"  He said the same thing every time I put them on with a smile ear to ear.  There were two of them- just like I had two of everything.  2 of every shirt, every pair of pants, socks, cribs, highchairs, car seats, bikes, cars, balls, placemats, growth charts, cups, spoons, blankets.  This is too much.  I don't know how to do 1.  I never had 1.  Two is my world and I live for TWO boys, TWO loves of my life and I hate that he is gone and I now have to look at two of everything in desperation.  Most minutes of everyday, its torture.   I hate that Colin has to grow up without him by his side too.  I hate that every birthday, Christmas, graduation...he will feel a loss.  I would do anything to change it for him.  My heart was torn apart that morning when Russ handed me Jacobs lifeless little body with his sweet chubby feet and beautiful hair and birth mark that I adored.  My two became one...and half of my heart died.  I wish I just held him tight and hugged him because I never got to again.  The next time I saw him, he had tubes, and IVs and wires and blood everwhere.  Our perfect little boy full of such life was unrecognizable and I should have just held him in my arms and hugged him.  I would give anything to have him back in my arms.  Now I hold one in my arms and one in my heart, separated for now but never far apart.  I love you Jacob Edwin and Colin Joseph.  Forever I will love you both with all of me.