Reading about blogging through grief accidently turned me into a sobbing useless wreck for an hour when I decided to wake up and write my own and see if it helps. In October 2013 I was hospitalized for going into preterm labor and that is where I stayed for what seemed like forever. I had been under an enormous amount of stress from my family (extended family aunts and uncles) and it was apparently getting to me. On November 25 my mother-in-law passed away having lost to cancer. I was not about to attend the memorial service still being in the hospital and it being against medical advice. Apparently sometimes those doctors know what they are talking about. On December 2nd at 8 am I went into labor and delivered twins at only 25 weeks. John and Jason were amazing weighing just under 2 pounds each. The first few days were quite a ride, they went from improving to having infections to being taken off medication to having brain bleed, both of them. They were not even cared for in the same room but they both ended up with lung infections at the same time. I inquired because in my opinion you get an infection by being infected. Probably when the housekeeper was empting the trash right next to his open pod.
Our sons passed away only 17 days after they were born after having been given a grave prognosis and being told that the had no chance and it was in our best interest to terminate life support. I kick my self about every day wonder who I thought I was to make that decision for them. Especially after finding out the only life support they were on was a respirator. They fought so hard but their little faces looked like they were a hundred years old and had lived a hard life. At least they were finally at peace.
Not 3 days after we were contacted that they needed the final arrangements for the babies and we told them that we would be coming to pick them up. We had planned on burying them on family property. When we went to pick them up we were told that that case had been turned over to the Adult protective services to investigate. We were even more upset at this point as we were right on the skirt of Christmas. I was leery wondering how CPS would be involved, they didn’t have enough money to take care of the children being beat to death but are still alive. As it turned out they lied but the accurate part was that it had been referred to CPS in the form of a complaint against me and my daughter was not being cared for among other things. When we got the call we were in her office with in 3 hours and she told us it was the strangest case she had ever seen. After the investigation there was found to be no error or my part.
Our choice to take possession and transport the babies was made after much research and documentation. Sometimes called home funeral or home burial in the state of Texas it is legal to take possession of a deceased person by the next of kin. We just decided the $900 each would be better spent on our daughters college fund. They were only 2 pounds each and for a 6 foot man we were going to move in a trash can. It took the help of the head of legal for home burials in our area to step in and we came to an agreement although it was not the legal or appropriate one. So they are at peace in our favorite place.
Our tragedy like so many others took a part of both of our spirits but we move on with the thought ” The ones we love live on in the memories we share of them.” It is just to bad that a closed minded and nosey person had to make a bad situation worse.
Although age is just a number it is a designation on a scale that measures life experiences and the changes that come with them. As a tiny baby we are labeled and placed into categories that correspond to behaviors’ some way and not age. Toddler, kid, pre-teen, tween, teen, young adult, adult or elderly are normally used to group how you act. Me personally I am in my 40’s with a new baby, now I know why 20 year olds have them and 40 year olds are grandparents. I do have more patience and appreciate the special moments I am able to spend with her. My little toddler that I can’t find exactly what age that is but that is what the babycenter.com newsletter keeps telling me, melts my heart. I try to be the free spirit that provokes the old “Act your age”. So it is just a number that measures the steps that got me to the who I am.
From a pretty young age I was taught that birthdays are no big deal. In my picture albums there is one picture from my childhood that was me in front of a cake. I was probably only 7 or 8 years old and the only kids were my cousins that are the same age. I was a shy kid and we moved often with my parents’ job so I did not have many friends and what is the point of having a party without friends. I did have plenty of acquaintances and when I turned 21 decided to have my own party. It was at my dad’s house and it was a fun day and night pool party. There were people there that I haven’t seen in years. Remnants of it even lingered the day after in the ditch around the corner. My lasting memory was the burns on the bottom of my foot after stepping on two cigarette butts.
As I aged the celebrations were less frequent but I could always count on a card from my grandma with a few dollars in it and one from my mom with a $100 bill in it, always saying something like “This is not for paying bills or buying groceries, it’s just for you and just for fun.”
On my 29th birthday then boyfriend decided it would be fun to have a block party on my birthday and I thought it was a neat idea as not many gatherings have that neighborly feel. Little did I know I would be doing all of the cooking for over 100 people that visited that night. We had a pig roast and what seemed like a ton of sides and since it was a birthday I made the half sheet cake Happy Birthday Gibson, my nephew with the birthday the day after mine. We got a permit and blocked the street off like in an old movie. I found myself sitting in the middle of the street talking about nothing special with people that I had seen every day for the last 10 years but probably couldn’t tell you the name of 75% of them. There were some language barriers and the range in age of the guests ended up being 1 to 85 from all parts of the world. We visited until the early morning when everyone wandered home safely on foot and the air was let out of the bounce house. After that night at least to me I felt safer in my home than I ever had in the past and special to have a neighborhood I could be proud to live.
So, the answers to the question of “do I like a book or a bash”? There is a time and place for everything and I would not trade any of my memories in for the hope of something better.
Brought to life 43 years ago by the manufacturer of children’s toys I was given to Kimmy when she was born and quickly became her best friend. I could always count on a good hug from Kimmy when she was feeling sad, mad or the huge giggle and smile right before she scooped me up for a squeeze when she was excited usually about something new she had learned or discovered. There was good and bad with the friendship just like so many others. I was always there when she wasn’t feeling well but that usually meant I was the target of whatever was leaking out of her at the time, and who ever said that baby poo doesn’t smell was anosmic. which lead to a trip to the washer and us both being sad about the missing presence of the other for a few hours. The bumps on her noodle, skinned knees, scratches up and down her arms and legs never stopped her from being the curious little girl testing every scenario to find the possible results, how many people can say their best friend bangs their head on everything just to see what will happen?
As she got older and had come in contact with different experiences I went through changes also. The period when I was carried around by my tail with the same hand that sucked her thumb because she could hold the tail in hand and it would not interfere with the thumb.
More time passed and I was more times left behind than taken with her by way of my tag in which she would stick her finger through to leave the rest to accomplish what ever goal she was working on. Her mommy would no longer spend extra time to pick me up for her, She would kick me through the rooms and down the hall until she got to a room with a couch so that she could give me a kick with a little lift so I ended up on the couch and could be picked up with out bending over.
One day I was picked up and put in a glass case where I was by myself for years until one day she got me out just for a few minutes, smiled and put me back behind the glass. More years passed and I ended up in a box but can’t even remember when. This is where I sat tattered year after year, boy did I miss those big hugs.
Bright light shined into the box and I was sent to the washer, no comment needed as to why. After I was dry and smelled clean and fresh I was put into the bed along with about 20 other toys of baby Kate, who had her choice of many new softer toys, chose me and she had that same special hug that I remembered so well, It was just like her mommy’s hugs. So here I am so glad to be the best friend of another little girl and excited knowing that her adventures will, no doubt be as incredible as they were all those years ago.
Along time ago I read a story about an old couple that spent their 60 years together taking turns leaving the word SHMILY for the other to find. It stood for “see how much l love you”. I decided that l would leave the word MUACH around for my husband as sometimes that is what we say in place of blowing a kiss. It is how the sound that a kiss makes would be spelled phonetically. To my surprise he started leaving it back. Now when l read or hear MUACH, with this post as no exception, l smile