Days are different

I'm not in a very good place right now, mentally and emotionally.

Tonight, we had our new swing set delivered, the kids were so excited to finally have something to do outside, they swung and played and laughed and the weather was beautiful, almost chilly.

Everything was so good.  But as I watched our children play so freely and happily, I felt sadness knowing that James and Jake should be sharing that swing set with them in a few years.  Can you imagine the fun?  Having these beautiful, identical twin boys, swinging in their safety swings, laughing and us laughing, I would for sure be taking pictures. 

It just made me so sad that we won't have that.

But it also made me sad that THEY won't have that.  That they don't get to feel the sun and the wind on their face while swinging on the swings.  They can't laugh at a field of lightning bugs, they can't feel the chill of a snowball in their hands, they won't feel the hugs we have to offer, they won't know the joy of playing "this little piggy" over and over again, or know the pride of learning to ride a bike.

I know many of you will tell me that they are in heaven doing those things, but that doesn't make me feel better, because for one...we don't KNOW that.  And two...I want them to do these things on earth, with us.

I can't seem to understand why our boys were taken from us.  I can't understand why this happened to us when there are thousands of abortions each year, I can't understand why Brad and Angelina have twins right now.  Not that I think they shouldn't have twins, but why do they and we don't?

My pregnancy with James and Jake was the best pregnancy I had ever had, although we had so many scares and I had some health issues, my weight was good, my mentality was good and I had never been happier.

Why was that ripped away from us?   

On the other hand, just this morning I could barely contain the happiness and love I was feeling.  I was listening to The Beatles "I have to admit it's getting better, all the time."  You know that song, right?  Well, that's what I was thinking - "I have to admit it's getting better."  And it is, my life, as a whole, is better because I now realize all that I have, I can see that now and I saw it before, but not quite this clearly.

But it's almost as if my grief is hiding around the corner somewhere just waiting to jump out at me, waiting to make me sad again, sometimes when I least expect it, it arrives, boldly, in my heart. 

I can remember, just hours after learning that James and Jake had died, I was sitting in my hospital bed, talking with Brian and my parents and I said "this makes me realize what miracles Ariel and Racecar truly are.  Life is so precious and so fragile and so incredibly detailed, from the moment of conception everything has to go just perfectly in order for a child to be born."   And there I sat, in my hospital bed, with those boys still inside my belly, me not feeling the reality of our very sad and heart wrenching situation, waiting to deliver my sons who were no longer alive, realizing and appreciating the gifts in our lives.

Although things are getting better, that doesn't mean we do not feel sadness and emptiness, because we are still sad and empty, we are constantly aware of what is missing from our lives.

We are also constantly aware of what we have and that is what will get us through this.

Slowly, but surely.

But sometimes, like tonight, the reality of all that we have been through, just hurts so much and it's so difficult to accept.  No matter how good we have it, sometimes the pain is so big and so intense, it cripples me and makes me wonder how I'll ever get through my life, feeling the pain that I do.

Comments

[indigobabs]

Beth... there are no words for the pain you are in, but you find them. sending you love, prayers, and a good nights sleep.

[Adventures In Babywearing]

I don't know the answer. I just know you will get through- slowly and sometimes with more steps back than forward, but look how far you've come. You even admit that. But you also have every right to long for James and Jake to live a life with lightning bugs and swing sets. Maybe you'll see some of that life in the eyes of Ariel and Racecar. In your own eyes, and in the wind in the trees and just the desires of your heart.

Love,
Steph

[Tirzah]

Beth, I don't know what to say. I hope that one day, you will KNOW that your boys are happy. They aren't with you now, but I KNOW that they can be someday! I'm praying for you!

[thefarmerfiles]

Praying for you, for your husband, and your kids. Praying for your hearts.

Grief comes in waves. Some days are better, and then some days aren't. Exhausting on the worst days...try and get your rest in between.

[Dory]

Your pain is palpable Beth. I think maybe for right now, you should focus on just today. Getting through just THIS DAY.... not so much thinking about the rest of your life and how you'll make it through it all without them. I know it's terribly cliche.... but there is definitely some truth to be found in *taking it one day at a time*. You're in my prayers.

[Kari]

beth, just wanted you to know that my heart hurts with yours...wish there was something i could say to make it better but all i can say it that we're here and reading and praying...aching for your loss and hopeful for the new tomorrows that will bring more joy than pain.

[Mom24]

(((Hugs))) One thing I have found that you may eventually find as well: I have no patience with people who have not learned the lesson you (and I) have learned. I get so angry at my husband for not realizing that our children are precious miracles who will not be here for long, and what is a little silliness, loudness, messiness, whatever, in the grand scheme of things. My brother died when I was young, and it truly did profoundly change how I look at the world. I live much more in the moment and am all about making memories. That's not always a good thing, but it's the way I am. My only advice (assice?) is to be gentle with yourself, take things hour by hour. I hope things keep getting better. I'm so, so sorry for your tremendous loss. I know the sharpness of the pain will ease, but it will always be with you.

[Pam]

I've know the kind of pain you describe. I'll just sit here with you and listen as long as you want to talk about it.

Pam

[mandy]

I feel speechless after reading this post. Like, nothing I have to say could possibly touch on how you are feeling or be very helpful. In spite of that, I still feel compelled to tell you that as I read your words, my heart physically aches for you and the pain you are suffering. I wish there was something I could say or do to help, but there probably isn't. I am still thinking of you and praying for you. When I pray for you, I ask God to bring peace to your heart, ease your grief and wrap his loving arms around you and your family, so you feel it. Every day Beth.

[Sharon - Mom Generations]

When the love is so big, so wide, so vast, so high that it cannot be contained in a heart, a voice, a memory, or a million words... the hurt and pain become endless. I agree that sometimes a day is even too difficult to manage. An hour, and maybe even a moment, is a challenge when your heart is so sad. You will see the little miracles and the great miracles as they happen. These are what will help you. Not heal you. But help you.
Thinking of you today especially, and always...

[Laura]

Sending a prayer up right now for you. I never realized how many people are going through this right now, as I am. My stillborn son is in heaven with your boys right now. They know no pain, no suffering. Have you read "Safe in the Arms of God" by John MacArthur? Someone gave it to me after we lost our little one and I would recommend it to you. I too experience bad "waves" of emotion at times. Even though those times are painful, it helps me remember that he existed. He was alive, growing inside me for those nine months. That is important to me. I don't want to ever forget my son.

[Susan T]

You are in my prayers. I continue to relate to your truth as I learn to live without my brother. Your honest and open posts put into words what I feel many days.

[Shantel]

Beth.

I am sending my love, thoughts and prayers.

Thinking of you day!!

All my love,

[Caminante]

One day at a time. No, it's not fair. You are in my prayers.

[Laurie]

No words for you today. I'm here reading and hurting for you.

[Melissa]

I don't have anything brilliant to say, just wanted to let you know I am thinking of you. Like you said, slowly but surely. Hang in there hon!

[Lois]

I wish I had more to offer but HUGS, sweetie!!!! Your in my prayers.

Lois

[Kellyn]

Thinking of you today.

Greif does hide around corners. I see a book, hear a song or see a movie and I think of friends and family lost. It gets easier, but never goes away. You are doing so fabulous, even through the rough patches.

[Kirsten]

(((((HUGS))))) Here's to it continuing to get better all the time.

[sunshine]

I'm 3 years out from when it happened to our family. The pain, it came in waves. Huge waves that would smack me down out of no where. I can tell you that eventually, the waves get smaller, more infrequent.

Hugs to you and your family.

[Aimee]

You are in my thoughts and prayers today Beth.

[Shawna]

Beth, I've never experienced what you are living with every single day. We are strangers, but I feel your pain and sadness. I am so very sorry that you don't have your boys with you right now.

I pray right now that you have the peace that passes all understanding, that that grief that is smothering you and consuming you and lurking around every corner will flee in the name of Jesus, and that you will no longer be controlled by the pain of loss.

Hang in there, Beth. You've got a lot of us out here pulling for you.

[Diane]

I feel speechless as well. I think each one of use would love to take the pain and heartache away. I know from other peoples loss that the pain can stay awhile because of what you know you're missing, but your heart gets stronger to handle it for the rest of your life. But another thought that just popped into my head is don't make such high expectations of what you should be feeling, doing, etc. Take one day at a time; give the best you can give and know it IS a journey. Someday all your whys will be answered. Keep writing ... we're still listening.

[Kris J]

There is no explanation, for the question Why Me? There never is.

In the pain, there is healing.

Big hugs. I just stumbled on your blog a few weeks ago. And I really enjoy everything you write. So please keep it up and know that you are helping others as they handle their own grief.

[Tiffany]

You crossed my mind yesterday when I saw a set of twins at our county fair. No other words except i'm thinking of you.