I Should Be Folding Laundry

I bought my trees from the devil.

This story is long and complicated.  I'm going to tell it from the very start, as if you knew of none of the details.  If some of it seems redundant, I apologize....this is the longest story EVER. 

When we moved into our last home, in 2003, it was brand new, just like our current house.  We were in charge of the landscaping, which was fine with me because I love landscaping.  When it was time to create our flower beds, my Mom and I worked together to create something we loved.  She and I happened to find a beautiful crabapple tree, we had no idea what kind it was, I just loved the shape, it was so different, but so simple.  I was in love.

My sister lost a baby in 2004, we started the garden just two months after her loss, his name was Jonathon.  That tree was my Jonathon tree.  I had a brick engraved with his initials made at a local landscaping place, I placed the brick at the base of the tree.

As the years passed, this tree became better and better.  So, when we had to move, the thing that made me the saddest was leaving that beautiful little tree.  I expressed my love for the tree to the new owner and told her that if she ever decided she didn't like it and wanted to get rid of it, to please call me and I would try to relocate it.  She promised me that she, too, loved the tree and she would take care of it for as long as she lived there.  That made me feel better.

When we moved into this new house, I knew I wanted the same tree, except I wanted two of them, both of them being planted in honor of James & Jake.  The problem?  I had no idea what kind of tree it was.  I began my search at big name home improvement stores, in their gardening department.  My Mom even looked in her area.  We found nothing.

I didn't know what kind of tree I wanted, but I knew I wanted to have bricks made at the same place that did Jonathon's.  On a Friday, I went there to place my order and I began talking to the owner about this particular tree.  She walked with me to the area where all of her crabapples were and she let me browse.  And I found one.  I saw that it was called Lollipop Crabapple, but I also saw that the tree was $150!  Plus, she only had one.

I was excited to have found out the type of tree, but bummed that it was so expensive and that they only had one.  I began walking toward the store front to place my brick order when I spotted another one.  I went into the store and told her there was another one, right outside the store and she told me it wasn't a lollipop crabapple.

"Well, the tag says it is," I replied.

She then agreed that I was right, it was indeed a lollipop crabapple.  I left the store with the intention to continue searching for other lollipop crabapples that may be cheaper somewhere else.  But I also felt like these trees were THE TREES, something just told me so, it's like they were just waiting for us.  But $300 for trees?  I could not fathom paying that much.

That night, I wrote about our landscaping plan and planting trees and someone who lives in my area, Jen, she left a comment that said "tonight, my family and I were coming home and drove past the landscaping place out here, and there is a sign saying if your name is Beth or Brian, stop in for a free rose...."  I replied to her comment asking her which landscape place and she said told me.  It was the exact place I had been to just hours before.

My name is Beth, my husband's name is Brian.  The fact that our names were on the sign was just a coincidence.  or so it seemed.  To me, I felt like it was meant to be and really, even Brian couldn't disagree.  (I wrote about the whole sign thing here, you can see how excited I was about the whole thing.)

On Saturday afternoon, we decided to purchase the trees.  I got in the car and called my sister, Sarah, and told her about everything and I was absolutely, positively ecstatic.  I truly felt like I had been given a sign from James and Jake or some higher power.  (God?  The universe? My grandma?  I don't know.)  My sister asked me if I was going to tell the story to the person at the landscape place, I said I was thinking about it.  She encouraged me, telling me that they would be so happy to be a part of such happiness in our life right now.  I agreed and she said "call me as soon as you are done!"

I walked in and came across a "youngish" girl, who looked very young, but wasn't nearly as young as I thought she was.  (maybe between the age of 28-34?)   I told her what trees I wanted, we walked out of the store together and I showed her the one I wanted, the one near the store.  I tell her there is another one over there, I was pointing in the crabapple tree direction.  She told me that this one is the only one they have.  I corrected her and she said "oh, well, you know better than me, then."  She was joking.  I laughed.

She wasn't overly warm, but I couldn't image not telling someone at this place about these trees and their meaning in our lives.  So, I decided to just tell her, otherwise I would regret.

"So, I have a story to tell you," I say. 

"uh, oh."  she replied.

me - "No, it's nothing bad..."and I began telling her our story, the most sacred story I have, the one that I barely share with anyone, let alone strangers, but I trusted her and feel that it was necessary and right and so I shared this moment with her.  I told her we lost our twin sons in February...

her - aw.

At this point I felt her coldness and it hurt my feelings, but I continued.

her - she barely responded to me, in the middle of my telling her this story, she talked to employees, interrupting me, multiple times.  I felt like she was beating me up.

I finally got to the end of my story, which I wished I hadn't started and at one point in the story I felt like the biggest freakin' idiot telling this person this story and just wanted to end it right there, but I continued and then the last part of the story, I said "and then this person I know tells me she saw my name and my husband's name on your sign.."

She interrupts me "THAT IS NOT OUR SIGN.  THAT IS THE FLOWER SHOPS SIGN THAT IS INSIDE OUR STORE." 

I know.  I say.  I turned away from her, I said "wow." and I began walking away from her.  Tears filling my eyes.  She says sarcastically "yes, it's meant to be."  I continue to walk.

She was acting like the reason I was telling her this story was to get something for free.

I paid for my trees and a guy loads them into my van, I open the door, sit down and I start to cry. 

She didn't care.  She didn't care about me as a grieving mother, as a woman, as a human being.  She just didn't care and I felt like SUCH AN IDIOT for trusting her with this story.  How could she be so cold?  I felt so stupid that I had gone on and on about these trees on my blog and everyone was encouraging me to buy these trees and I do and it ends up like this.  why did I have to tell her this story?  I didn't have to share it.  WHY DID IT END UP THIS WAY?  I was heartbroken.  It may seem silly that I let this perfect stranger affect me so much, but that was beyond my control.  I tried to get rid of her evil, but I couldn't.  I had such a small amount of strength that weekend and she broke me.  She completely broke me.

I did not matter to her and that's okay, I can handle that.  But the lives of James and Jake did not matter to her, and that is not okay, and I can't handle that. 

Crying, I called Brian and asked him to call the store and ask if I can return the trees.  The owner answers the phone and tells him yes, but I would be charged a 15% restocking fee and a 6% credit card fee.  She wanted to know why I didn't want the trees, she saw me drive off the lot, what was the problem?

I get home and I am so upset I can hardly breathe, Brian, the kids and I sat on our love seat together as they all tried to make me feel better, asking about James and Jake and reminding me how special they are, that they do matter and that my family is amazing.  Even my four and five year old know how to deal with death and our loss, but this other woman did not.

A few minutes later, the phone rings.  It's a cell phone.  It's the girl who blew me off.

her - Beth?

me- yes.

her - The owners just told me that you just asked if you could return the trees.  Is there problem?

me - well, not with the trees.  I have a problem with you.  I told you this story, about the death of my babies and you acted completely and totally uninterested, like we didn't matter to you. 

her - Well.  I'm quite sorry you feel this way
me- I don't think you are.
her - I am quite sorry.  I have a one year old and I can't even imagine losing her. The lollipop crabapple is a great tree, the shade it provides, the shape, etc, etc. 
me- I KNOW why they are great trees.
her - I sell a lot of trees in memoriam, I guess I have just heard every story.  I guess I'm just hardened.
me - Well, perhaps in the future, you can keep in mind that these TREES and these STORIES are all some people have, maybe next time around you won't be so "hardened" or calloused.  You are so fortunate to have no idea what it feels like to be your customer, the person looking for trees, some of us aren't as lucky as you.   
her - Well, I'm quite sorry you feel that way
me - everything about these trees and this weekend are so significant to me, you ruined it.  I don't want your trees.  You turned the little bit of light I had this weekend and brought us only darkness.  I wish I had never gone into your store today.
her - I'm quite sorry you feel this way.  (completely emotionless, throughout our entire phone call)

I should probably mention to you that I was totally sobbing the entire time we were on the phone. 

She was such a jerk.  She was the devil.  I think she may be the only person I hate.

I wanted to take the trees and shove them, well, you know.  But I knew these trees were meant to be.  I can't figure out why whatever happened the way it happened, but either way, those trees were meant to be and she will not be taking that away from us.

On July 20th, the next morning, my due date.  The phone rings again...it's her.  Oh good, I thought, she feels bad, she's going to give me a real apology.

"Hi Beth, it's jerk face from the jerk face store, I just wanted to let you know that the person who told you about our return policy was wrong, you MAY NOT return the trees."

Oh my God, are you serious, I remained calm and told her I planned to keep them. 
"greeeeaaaatttt.  They are great trees.  Again, I'm quite sorry."
"sure you are."
I hung up and wound up calling her back because her story didn't make sense and I knew she was lying to me, I mean, the OWNER told my husband what the return policy was.  The owner was wrong?  She gave me a reason why the owner was wrong, basically she said the owner didn't know I had taken the trees off of the lot.

I told Brian what she said after we hung up and said "she's lying, I told the owner you had the trees, she knew it because she saw you driving away."

So, basically she just wanted to ruin my day.  But she didn't. 

But I will never EVER step foot in that place again...and if you live in this area, I hope you don't either. 

(I know you don't know where I'm talking about, but if you live in the area (northwest Indiana) and you e-mail me, I will tell you, oh yes, I will tell you.)

Oh and if anyone tells me I was too sensitive.  I will cut you.  For real.

um...help?

I don't know about you all, but we had such a great holiday weekend.  It was very relaxing and it started out with me cleaning bathrooms on Saturday morning, which really does make me happy.  Well not so happy while I was doing it...but definitely happy after I did it...but that only lasted about four minutes until my kids and husband went into the bathroom and squirted toothpaste all over the cabinets and the boys peed all over everything.

But due to our relaxing, non-eventful weekend which included pools, beaches, bratwurst and smores...I have nothing to blog about, except pools, beaches, bratwurst and smores.

And dirty bathrooms, apparently.

Can you help me come up with something to blog about? PLEASE?

In the meantime, I'll share some pictures with you, how's that sound? 

If you look closely at this picture, you'll see the Chicago Skyline:

Now, I am gnot a gnome lover, but Crooked Eyebrow bought two of these gnomes for me, they're about three inches tall and well, I just love them!

Here's a picture of one of the trees we have for James and Jake, you can see the bricks we had made with their names on it.  This is the tree that was most severely eaten by the bastard beetles, it's in my backyard and gets lots of love and attention from the sun and me, of course. 

Oh and I'll leave you with a picture of my sister's friend, Katie, who happens to read my blog.  I was lucky enough to spend time with Katie when I visited my sister in Louisville last month.  Katie is really fun, but all of a sudden she started to taunt me and tell me that I would never be able to break up with Wal-Mart, it was pretty mean, just look at her mean face:

Mean girl.  I'll just blame all of the mojitos she had been drinking.

That's it!  That's all I've got!  Seriously, help me get rid of my blogger's block, m'kay?  Do you have topics, ideas, questions? Anything?  Share them with me. 

HURRY. 

Not so easy right now

Tomorrow, Ariel starts Kindergarten.  On Friday, Racecar begins his second year of preschool, he'll go three days a week.

Today, we shopped and did laundry and cleaned and filled out forms, all in preparation for school to begin.  The kids are so excited and I'm really excited for them.

Last November, just hours after taking a pregnancy test and learning I was pregnant, I figured out that I would be due just before school started.  I thought it was fun because here I thought that in the fall of 2008 I would have time to myself three days a week, time to clean, shop, work, blog, whatever I wanted.  But in fact, the time would instead be spent nursing, changing diapers, cuddling, resting.

I could not wait.

To learn that for almost nine hours a week I would have time alone with my TWO baby boys, well, I was simply over the moon.

So, right now, as we prepare for school to start and I approach my time alone, I realize, quite easily, that I am so sad.  I do not want to be alone, I do not want my house to myself, I do not want the peace and quiet. 

That's not what I want.

I don't know if it's that this time that was to be spent with James and Jake will now be spent by myself, or if it's watching my kids enjoy the last few days of summer and become completely excited at the thought of school starting again and knowing that James and Jake won't have that.  Or if it's that so many of my best friends are about to give birth any day now, or if it's everything combined, but my heart is so heavy.  So heavy.   The strength I have been feeling deep within me is crumbling.  The desire to know, hug, kiss, teach and love our sons is intense, overwhelming and lingering.  It's seemingly growing stronger every single day.

When I think about their little bodies, their beautiful souls, their amazing perfection and I  think about the fact that they are not here AND NEVER WILL BE, well, I feel like a failure.  Like a bad Mom.  A terrible person.  I wonder what I did that was so wrong to have killed my babies.

All I wanted to do was to love and protect them and watch them grow.  I would teach them to be kind and loving.  And they would have been so kind and so loving, if they had just been given a chance.  I would have done anything to keep them from harm.  Anything.

I can't comprehend all that has happened in this past year, I can't explain why we have gone from utter joy to complete despair.  I can not properly express what it feels like inside my heart and soul right now, but what I can tell you is that both my heart and my soul hurt so very much and sometimes I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to recover.

The funny thing is, if feeling sadness is my way of feeling them, then I'd rather feel sadness than nothing at all.

So Fast

Is everyone consumed with the kids going back to school?  Seems the blog world is a little slow lately, which is good for me, because I am so far behind in blogging and blog reading and commenting that I am almost embarrassed to show my face around here.  But I'm going to anyway since the next few days are going to be CRAZY and I'm not sure I'll be around much.  Then again, something tells me I'll be around this blog quite a bit.  I'm feeling a lot in my heart right now, amidst the chaos, I'm feeling profound sadness, wishing that James and Jake were here now more than ever and sometimes in these moments of sadness, I turn to writing.

It's good for me, good for my soul.

Christy and her kids left today.  We were all very sad to be separating, the visit was beyond amazing.  We had such a great time, the kids had such a great time, the chemistry was just perfect.   While hugging me good-bye, Christy's son said to me "I'm going to miss all four of you."  I hope he understands how much we'll miss him, too.  All four of us.  Christy and I have a definite connection, a depth, an understanding, a friendship that is bound forever, despite the distance, I know there is so much love and admiration between the two of us, that we'll hardly notice the miles between us.

I wish I could eloquently express what her visit meant to me, words are failing, I don't know why.  She was the perfect house guest, a great helper, she was patient and understanding with my naps and my sickness, she's a beautiful Mom, a wonderful friend and she's so so funny. 

Although I am looking forward to life calming down and beginning our new schedule, I'm sad that not only her visit is done, but summer vacation is over, too.  I just can't shake the disbelief at how quickly this year is passing us by.  Blink.  Another day gone.  Blink.  Another week.

I'm heading to bed, just to wake up to another day that will be over, before I know it. 

Does everyone feel this way?  or is it just me?

Perfection

Remember last week when I wrote about the painting I saw at a furniture store and instantly fell in love with it and wanted it for our ninth wedding anniversary which fell on the seventh?  But we didn't get it because it cost over $300 and we had to be all responsible because our washing machine broke and we had to replace it and my dreams of buying that painting went out the window?

Well, do you remember or not?

The painting, if you recall, made me think of James and Jake the second I saw it.  My heart fell to my stomach, I felt the painting that much.

The interesting thing is that since moving into our new house, I have been searching for something to hang over our fireplace.  I have looked at decorating websites and flipped through magazines just trying to get an idea of what to do above the fireplace.  The one thing I did not want to do was hang a mirror, so, I went to every store ever created and shopped for the perfect print.

I knew that one day, that print would jump out at me and it did, at the furniture store.

But again, it was over $300.

But then, last week, when we went to Ikea, we found what could very well be the exact same print, sitting there, waiting for me to fall in love with it.  And I did.  All for $99.

Since we've been out of town since last Wednesday, I haven't had a chance to hang it, but I did tonight.  I took the wrapping off of it and found a piece of paper about the painter.  Come to find out, the painter, has a twin brother.  Which makes me love the painting even more.

And tonight, we hung it.

And it's perfect.

It's late. I should be sleeping.

We've been away from home the last few days, right now we are nestled snuggly in my sister's house in Louisville, Kentucky.  The kids are fast asleep on the floor, on air mattresses, beside the bed I am sitting on, the bed I will soon be asleep on.  Brian is in the next room over watching TV with Sarah's husband.

Traveling here has not been the easiest journey.  The last time we were here, was just two weeks after losing James and Jake, actually, I don't think it was even two weeks, more like 11 days.

I can not believe we made that trip so soon afterwards.  It was too soon, but we just didn't know, I thought it would be good for the kids, but it was so hard, so hard pretending my heart wasn't broken, desperate to have my boys back inside of me.  I remember wanting to scream and punch the walls.  And cry.  Just cry.

Although, right now, thankfully, being here feels really great.  The kids are happy, Brian is happy (thanks to beer) and I'm happy spending this much time with my sister and watching our kids play endlessly together.  The weather is perfect, everything is perfect.  Really it is.

Deep down, however, I keep replaying thoughts of those first moments and days and weeks after losing James and Jake.  Sometimes I can't believe any of this has happened.  It's like a dream, but it's so real.  My life is so different right now, than it was one year ago today.  Although, we lost so much this year, not just our sons, but some of our happiness, much of our faith, I still love and cherish what surrounds me.  Whether it's my beautiful, hilarious and adorable family, my friends, you, my readers, my new home, my business and my business partner, Christy, I still feel love.

Lots of really good love.  And it feels so good.  So, I'm trying to figure out why I have this darkness deep inside me, this weight that refuses to be lifted and I know it's partly the weight of grief and all that we have been through.  But I'm figuring out, I think, that part of the weight is knowing that this love, this activity, this happiness that surrounds us, is not shared with James and Jake.  It just sitting here, waiting to surround them, and I hope and pray they can feel it, but I want to watch them take it in with their own eyes, I want to watch them hug it close to their chests.  For some reason, a reason I'll never know, that is not to be.

It's my niece's birthday party tomorrow.  She turned two on our anniversary and I was lucky enough to watch her enter this world.  Racecar was just two when she was born.  I realized tonight, that had James and Jake lived, she would be the same age difference from them as Racecar is with her.  I can't help but imagine her interest in these two baby boys.  It would have been really special.

It should have been really special.

But maybe, if I'm lucky, when I sleep, they'll come to me in my dreams, even if I can't see them, I just want to feel them.  Intensely, vibrantly, completely.   

That just doesn't seem like too much to ask.

A close eye on this heart of mine.

Nine years ago, right now, I was at the salon with my bridesmaids and mother, Brian was golfing with his family.

It was a typical wedding day. 

Do you ever wonder what you would do differently, if given a chance?  I typically don't think of such things, as I do my best not to regret anything or question any decision I ever made in the past.  But this year?  If I could go back in time, I would tell that girl planning her wedding to keep it simple.

Since losing James and Jake, I see pictures of myself years, months, days before losing them.  And I want to cry out "watch out, tread carefully...life will not always feel this good."

I wish I could sit down with myself back when the wedding planning began, I wonder what I would say to myself? 

Just be simple.  Because years from now, life is not going to be simple, it's going to be so difficult you'll cry more tears than you ever did as a child.  And you won't be crying because someone hit you or someone stole your stuffed dog, you'll be crying because your heart will feel the most intense pain and loss you could have ever imagined.  Life will not be simple, it's going to be hard.  You and your future husband will experience what it's like to fight through a marriage, you'll suffer a loss so huge you won't know how to get out of bed each morning, but you will.  Because of him, because of your children.  Because you're you.  The flowers, the cake, the dress, trust me, in the long run, those things do not matter.  What matters is you and him, joining hands forever, facing the future prepared for whatever bumps or valley or roadblocks lay ahead.  You'll be together, arms locked, fingers intertwined.  I hope I have not made you fear your life together, by these warnings of sadness and grief, because there are many peaks, so much love and uncountable blessings.   

Just tread carefully and don't be afraid to love with all of your heart and soul.

On this day, August 7th, 1999, the only thing that matters is what brought you here today, that and the life that lay ahead.

Desolate Travels

I have a heavy duty case of the blahs and I have had them all week long.  I'm neither overly sad nor overly happy, I'm just.....

BLAH.

I hate blah.  I don't want to do anything, clean, shop, dance, cry.  Maybe just eat, sometimes shower, talk to my kids, look at my husband blankly.

Sometimes I blame the anti-depressants I am on.  After I had Racecar, my OB put me on an anti-depressant (am I supposed to hyphen that or am I wasting pinky energy?) and I can recall feeling this way after awhile.  I was never happy and I was totally incapable of crying.  I hated it.  (although right now I am NOT incapable of crying, I just feel...dead, most of the time.  When I feel sad, I FEEL sad, sometimes it feels good to feel something, even if it's sadness.)

Before I even delivered James and Jake, one of my OB's prescribed Prozac to me, without telling me.  I found out when a nurse came in and said "here's your prozac."  and I was like "pro, who?"  The doctor had never talked to me about this prescription and it upset me.  I told her "no, thank you" and sent her on her merry way, explaining that I wasn't ready and that I hadn't even talked to the doctor about it.  The nurse left.

The next day, another nurse came in with prozac.  The situation was the same as the day before, the doctor still hadn't talked to me about it and I was being blinded sided by all of the  prozac flying around.  I began to refer to these people as The Prozac Posse.  (I think it's important for me to say that the doctor PUSHING THE PROZAC was not the FAVORITE, AWESOME, LOVING, CARING, GREATEST DOCTOR TO WALK THIS EARTH doctor.) 

It was the other one.  (I'm very affectionate towards her, as you can probably see.)

And believe it or not, before leaving the hospital, after saying I would just like a prescription for Prozac, that I would have it filled when I was ready in a few days or weeks, the Prozac Posse brought me another one.  I began to wonder if they were given a dollar per pill per patient from Prozac.  (that's a whole lot of P's!)  Of course, I did not really think that, but it was still hard for me to believe that they were totally ignoring my requests, making me feel like a chart without a voice rather than a person with an opinion.

They did explain to me that Prozac takes many weeks for it to take effect, and I understood that, but I just wanted to feel, without help, what I am supposed to feel.  Even if it meant feeling intense sorrow and sadness, I wanted to feel that, for James and Jake.

The day after the memorial service, I grabbed the prescription from the fridge, brought it to Brian and said "PLEASE GO TO WALGREENS, AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE, AND FILL THIS FREAKIN' PRESCRIPTION BECAUSE I CAN'T FEEL THIS INTENSELY SAD AND BROKEN AND DEAD FOR MUCH LONGER."

He leaped from his chair and ran to Walgreens and I proceeded to have one of the biggest, yet, most necessary, breakdowns I had ever had in my life up to that point, there with my two sisters and my Mom.  It's was meant to happen that way, they were supposed to see me show the honest depths of my pain, and I was supposed to learn that showing real emotions, in front of others, was a sign of strength, not weakness.

Something I am still struggling to learn.

So, this past week, when I think back on that moment, I almost envy that girl, sitting on the couch surrounded by her family, crying, unable to stop.  I envy that it was expected of her to cry that way, at any given moment, I envy her ability to physically cry.

Because right now, when I'm surrounded by others and I think about how sad I am at that very moment, I think about how inappropriate it would be for me to just break down and cry, right there, while sitting on my couch.

And you can tell me it's okay to cry during those moments, but it's not. 

So, I don't, I hold it in and this road called grief, becomes lonelier and lonelier with each mile I tread, each milestone I pass.  I am thankful for others who express their grief and their feelings, openly, like me.  My heart may be broken, but when others openly share their feelings of grief, this road doesn't feel so desolate.

As each day passes, I realize how incredibly numb I have become, and it just seems to be getting worse.  At what point can I stop popping the prozac?  It seems like never will be a good time.  Sometimes I wonder if I can truly dealing with my feelings of sadness when I am taking prozac, does taking prozac mask something?  If I weren't taking prozac would I be able to get out of bed each morning?

Time does not heal all wounds, you just learn how to deal with them, on your own. 

I wish I could punch the person who made that shit up.

Just like Darth Vader but without the helmet, cool voice and light saber.

We are starting to fall into a routine here at our new home.  Brian returned to work yesterday, after being home for five days after his most recent business trip, two business trips, really.

I am still trying to figure out how to keep the house clean, maintain the steady stream of laundry, try to work and build our business, try to be a Mom and sometimes, make more than macaroni for dinner...I'm also the landscaper who is trying to grow grass ALL DAY LONG OF EVERY SINGLE DAY.

I wanted to show you pictures of the trees we purchased for James and Jake.  They are called Lollipop Crabapples and I adore them. (side note: I do intend to tell you the story about the "person" who sold the trees to me, I just have to be a in really good mood and have a lot of time.)  They grow so wonderful and dense and in the spring they have beautiful white blossoms and in the winter they have tiny little crabapples that feed the birds.  It's the perfect tree.  In my opinion, of course.  (side note: this is one of the trees from the front yard, there is a second one straight back from this one, in the backyard.  side note #2:  I do intend to give you a full garden tour, but it will have to wait until I buy mulch, have it delivered and actually add it to the flower beds, which could be 2011.)

This morning, while outside watering my tomato plant sitting on my deck, I looked over at one of the trees and I could see from far away that japanese beetles were eating my tree.  I could see the little black, copper and green bastards and the damage they had already done to my precious tree.  I knew that if they were doing this to one tree, they were doing it to the other. 

I felt overly protective of my trees, like they were messing with my children.

It was time to kick some beetle ass.

I went into the garage and grabbed my ammunition, attached it to the hose and doused each tree for waaaaay too long, but I wanted to make sure I got every leaf, every twig wet.  I did this with both trees, I felt like I was doing kung fu with the little bastards, in my mind I was Danny Larusso, (sidenote: did you know Ralph Macchio is forty-seven?) karate chopping them and kicking them in the gut, "hi-ya!" "Take that, you bitchass beetle." I was screaming profanities in my mind.   

Or maybe out loud.  I'm not really sure.  While spraying the tree I was also battling the beetles that were flying towards me, dodging their stealth like flights.  I think they were aiming for my eyes, trying to take me out so I would leave their new lunch room alone. But, within minutes they began to fall to the ground like drops of rain falling from a tree after a rainstorm. 

It was beautiful.

I then started to think about what I must have looked like to my neighbors, attacking my trees like some sort of lunatic tree fighter, some may not have seen me and some may think I'm crazy, and some may understand.

One thing is for sure, if they didn't think I was crazy while fighting the beetles, they certainly thought I was crazy after my kids played outside with bike helmets on.

For hours.

At least for three weeks they thought we were normal.  Longer than the last house we were in.

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.