Next month it will be two whole years since we were told our first babies, Kora and Ava (identical twins) had no heartbeats. It will be two years since I went into labour and delivered them in a silent room with no cries from them as they entered the world but the raw sobs from Neil and me.
It maybe coincidence but this last week I have seen three lots of identical twins. I wonder if my mind is drawn to them like when you buy a new car and then suddenly you see that make and model all the time, it just always catches your eye.
It’s heart-wrenching as it pulls my mind into the image of them at 19 months of age. What would they have looked like? Would they have taken Neil’s dominating genes of dark hair and eyes? What would have been their first word? Would they have both said the same first word?
Then as the parents walk off with them in their pram my thoughts stop just as quickly as my mind had just whirled with them. I don’t go home and cry my eyes out and seeing them doesn’t affect my whole day. It’s just that quick moment in time where my thoughts overwhelm me.
I’ve noticed that I cope a little better than before. It’s not that old saying of time being a healer as I don’t think anyone who has lost a child heals. That grief doesn’t get easier, it doesn’t go away.
I think it’s more that we are learning how to face each day and every new challenge that comes our way. I believe this, as a new challenge that we have NOT encountered can knock us for six. I have mentioned before that I feel it’s about us learning to live in our new norm, in your world.
Our lives will never be the same as they were before yet somehow the girls have given us so much and helped us to become stronger people. I thought I was a strong and resilient person before but now I know for sure that I am indeed that.
I hope that if we are blessed with a child or children together that we will be loving and devoted parents. I hope that our fears and challenges we have faced don’t overtake our rational minds. I hope that Kora and Ava have taught us to be the greatest of parents as after all loving them has been both the easiest and hardest thing to do.
I hope that I can overcome this feeling of what I can only describe as guilt or numbness. For some reason my tears are no longer falling. This time last year I was more emotional and quick to have a quiet sob when I thought of them.
My heart is still shattered. They are in my thoughts everyday, often more than once. I guess because since last year we have lost 4 more babies in very different circumstances we are grieving for them all.
I’m not sure if it’s because we now have so many babies that we have lost, I hold my memories of Kora and Ava closer to my heart. I’m grateful that they were the ones to give me a longer pregnancy, a labour and a delivery. We have their photos and footprints. They were the ones we got to name. They were the ones we got to hold. They were the ones we got to say a proper goodbye to.
They are the ones that give me hope for this coming IVF round. They are all the ones that make hope possible. As scary as it is to think that we might once again be blessed with a pregnancy and face our fears once more, all our babies give us faith that we can face whatever is coming our way.
Kora and Ava gave us so much more to remember and hold dear to our hearts. I guess the tears have been replaced with a warmth for now. I have no idea if this will last or if by their anniversary I will be a bawling mess but right now I’m grateful for all they have given me and continue to give us.
When their anniversary arrives we will be almost at transfer point (if the embryos survive the thaw) so I guess this year we thank them for all they have given us. We thank them for the strength and positivity to embark on the trying to conceive again.
We hope that they know a rainbow baby or babies will never steal their space in our hearts.
Stars in the Sky 