I woke up this morning feeling pretty good and ready to make a hearty breakfast with Pat – eggs, bacon, and buttermilk biscuits. After washing the morning dishes we all started our own morning routines for getting ready to leave for our usual Saturday lunch out followed by grocery shopping at various stores in the area: Target for toiletries and canned items, Central Market for an awesome selection of produce, seafood, and sandwich meats/cheeses, and Tom Thumb for meat, frozen goods, and anything else we forgot along the way.
As I was getting ready I was suddenly overcome with a feeling of loss. It hit so fast, like I had just charged into a brick wall. Right at that moment Pat came in with his usual goofy, morning mood and started teasing me. I tried to hide that I was upset, but ended up asking him to give me a moment. I shut the door to the bathroom and allowed myself a quick cry. It had to come out. Thoughts of my father, whom I lost 9 years ago, came to my mind and things I wish I had said to him before he passed.
But the one that really pierced me was our loss a few weeks ago. We found out early on, around 8 weeks, that we were going to have twins. Then 3 weeks later we were told Baby B’s heart had stopped beating. We only knew of Baby B for 3 weeks, but we had already grown excited about the big family we were soon to have and the unique experience of raising twins.
The first week after receiving the news was hard, but then I thought I was getting better. I still had one baby to nurture, an unexpected gift (a story for another time). My spirits picked up in the second week, although it seemed that twins were everywhere on television, the internet, and in magazines, but I dealt with it. Then this morning on tv I saw 2 twin boys about 5 years old dressed up for Halloween. I felt a slight pull, but dismissed it thinking It was nice for a while, but it’s not to be. 20 minutes later I broke in the bathroom. I hate that I won’t meet him. (I don’t know for sure Baby B was a boy, but I have a strong feeling that it was.) I hate that he won’t be recognizable as a baby when I give birth. I’m scared that the boy we do have will grow up feeling something missing, but not sure what.
My cousin lost a baby very early in her pregnancy a couple of years ago. She told me recently that she named the baby anyway. Even though it was too early to know the sex, like me she was sure she knew. When Pat and I found out we were having twins we had agreed that he would name one and I would name the other. I haven’t discussed this with him yet, but I decided today that I need to give him a name and acknowledge him as my fourth child.
Meet Charles Eli (on the left) named after my maternal grandfather, Charles, and his twin brother, Eli that died when he was just a toddler.
Now if you'll excuse me, I think it's time for another good cry.