Two Years

I can hardly believe that it has been two years since the boys were born. I almost think this year has been harder than the first one. Last year, I was pregnant with the girls. On the boys' birthday, I was only a few weeks further along with the girls than I was with the boys. I thought it best to focus more on the twins at that time. This year it has been harder to push aside thoughts of them. So many things remind me of them. Even the weather has been mild this year like it was two years ago. This year has also been harder because as time passes, fewer people seem to mention the boys. Some even seem surprised when I mention them.

It has been hard to think back to my pregnancy with the boys. It is sort of like looking directly at the sun. The whole event is surrounded by feelings so intense that examining them is blinding and disorienting at times. I was overjoyed to discover that I was pregnant after our first attempt at IVF. I had begun to lose hope of having more children, but I felt certain that those days were behind us. I saw our problems as difficulties in getting pregnant, not difficulties carrying pregnancies. Even after I found out that we were carrying triplets, I was still certain that everything was going to be okay. I was concerned about all three babies making it through the first trimester, but each scan showed that all three were doing well. I breathed a sigh of relief as the end of the trimester approached with no problems. It was not to last of course. The next eight weeks became a blur of medical tests and bad news. I made four trips to the hospital here in town and four trips to Cincinnati to be evaluated there. Even through all this, I clung to the idea that we might be able to make it through. I knew the realities of twin-to-twin, and I knew the risks after my water broke. But, their births were still a shock.

I have tried in these two years to move forward with my life while still holding to the memory of Nathaniel, Kade, and Roanin. I am trying to allow the Lord to mold me through my grief. I am learning to be content in the moment. I am learning to see the time with my children as precious even if it comes at two in the morning. it is an imperfect process. Sometimes I feel as if I am dishonoring their memory when I fall back on old habits.

My pastor had a brief memorial for my boys in church after they were born. In it, he compared the boys to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego. At the time, I didn't look too closely at the comparison. A few months ago though, Gabriel was reading through Daniel for his quiet time. I came across their response to the king. It has stuck with me as a fitting response for myself. They were perfectly aware that God could save them if it was His will just as I knew He could have saved my boys, but they told the king that even if He chose not to, they would continue to serve Him. I chose to serve Him even though He did not save my boys because the truth is He has already saved them. It was not in the way that I wanted or hoped for, but it was in the only way that really matters.

Happy birthday my boys for I am sure that there is no better place to celebrate than in the presence of the King.

Parenting after Loss

I have had the experience of pregnancy and parenting both before and after loss. I have found it a little different this time around. With Gabriel, I did not have much fear. The thought of not having a healthy pregnancy or having a child that did not grow up never entered my mind. I made sure he slept on his back, but I was not really concerned about SIDS. Although I didn't purposely try to expose him to illness, I was not that concerned about colds or other small ailments either. You could probably say that I belonged to the majority of people who believed the worst would never happen to them.

This time, it has already happened. I have held children not knowing when their last heartbeat would come, but knowing that it would happen within the next few minutes. I have packed up my dreams of what my family was to have been. Does this make me a better parent now? I'm not so sure. I have spent much of the last year fighting down fear. Fear that I would lose one or both of the girls before they were born. Fear that I would have them finally here just to lose them in early childhood. Fear that I would endanger them by the choices that I made for them.

I don't think either way is a healthy was to parent. I think both are understandable given my situations at the time, but I don't think they show much dependence on God. I have been entrusted the care of these children during this moment just as I was with the boys. I need to learn neither to hold to the expectation of a certain tomorrow nor fear what it brings. Becoming dependent on Him is a daily (or sometimes hourly) task.