Recovery, Memorial Preparation, and Emotional Triggers

I've decided to blog a bit about my (and our) recovery, since I find it cathartic and I know so many people are reading this blog now. I sincerely hope that sharing these experiences will help or prepare others that have gone through, or may face, a similar situation.

Physically, the recovery has been easy. In fact, feeling 'normal' has been emotionally difficult. I yearn to feel the 'fluttering' and heaviness in my stomach. Now I literally and figuratively feel empty.. and it's still so hard to wrap my head around that.

Emotionally, well, that's another matter. People keep asking us how we're doing. The truth is, it changes by the minute.

There are times when we're falling apart, in full sobs, and then there are others when it doesn't even feel like any of it really happened. When for a fleeting moment it doesn't even feel like the pregnancy was real. But I've decided to share some of the former moments with you all.

First breakdown occurred when we arrived home from the hospital. No surprise since I was emotionally dangling by a thread to begin with. But I expected my trigger to be the diapers we had already purchased, or the Babies R' Us catalog sitting on the coffee table. But I was numb to all of that. Instead, it was when we were returning the car seats to the store.

Yes, I know, it's asking for trouble to do anything baby related the day after losing your babies. But I felt that having two huge car seats sitting in my living room would be far worse in the long run. So, I asked my brother to bring his SUV into town.. giving us one less thing to worry about later.

We loaded them up into his SUV, and originally, Brad was just going to follow him to do the return while I stayed at home. My gut kept telling me that wasn't fair to Brad. I needed, and should, go with him. By the time we got to the first stoplight, behind my brother's vehicle, tears were already falling. Everything inside me was saying, "I don't want to return this stuff. I want to USE this stuff. It belongs to my babies..."

By the time we arrived to the store, I could barely breathe. Brad held my hand, and gave it a squeeze that said he'd be right back. Clearly, I couldn't go in. As I sat there in the car, my face turned away from the store, the car door suddenly opened. I hear my brother's voice, "Are you okay?"

The flood gates immediately opened. We hugged until I stopped crying...

The next hurdle would come later in the evening, and it took me by complete surprise.

Brad had already fallen asleep, and I assumed I would take a shower.. like I do every evening. But I was suddenly paralyzed, crying as I sat on the bed, unable to even approach the bathroom. Of course, Brad woke up to this, trying to decipher what was going on...

I struggled to explain the depth of the emotion I felt, so worried that he wouldn't understand. That he couldn't grasp that I hadn't showered since I delivered our children. Tears streaming down my face, in near fetal position, I explained that I still felt them on me. That I didn't want to wash them off. That I didn't want to wash that day off of me.. That I just couldn't.

He implored me to just wait, and try in the morning. "You'll sleep better if you just wait."

So I did.. But the morning proved no easier.

Before even going into the restroom, Brad offered, "I'll come in and sit while you shower if it helps." But I assured him I could do it. It wasn't fair to him to make him take care of me. I should be able to shower on my own.

I was wrong.

I made my way to our bathroom, removed most of my clothing, and then froze again. I started to cry from deep within my gut. Blood dripping down my legs. I admitted defeat and called out for my husband.. who made me look at him as he told me repeatedly that nothing ever could wash away our babies. That moving on from that day doesn't make me a bad mother. All the things that I had been trying to tell myself, but I only start to believe when my husband says it.

Sure enough, he sat in the restroom for my entire shower, which I cried my way through. But once I got out, I wrapped a towel around me, and Brad just held me until some sense of normalcy returned.

A few hours later, we were off to the funeral home to pick out urns and plan a memorial service. (If you were wondering, we've decided to do an informal candlelight memorial.) Strangely enough, neither of us were emotional there. It was just too businesslike to elicit anything. But I also knew that it would mean planning some things at home, like music selection, that would get me a few times. But all in all, the planning has actually given me something to focus on, instead of allowing me to dwell too much.

That was until tonight. We had just finished dinner, and suddenly my breasts HURT. And I just happened to have one arm pulled back and realized that my breast looked like I had a rock implant in it. So I touched it, and sure enough, the rock implant description was even more accurate. I was taken aback.

I turned to Brad, "You have to feel this. What is this? This can't be.... I'm making milk."

Right on time. Three days after delivering, I was engorged. I remarked bitterly, "Sure. THIS my body can do when it's supposed to."

Within 30 seconds, the tears came again. My body was making milk for the babies I didn't get to bring home. And I have to expect it to last at least a few days. A reminder that I can't ignore, overlook, or distract myself from. Just an 'in your face' statement from my body that I should be feeding my babies.

I felt utterly gutted. And again, grateful to have an understanding husband to console me.

He hasn't had an easy go of it either, but his triggers are completely different. His body isn't sending him cues and his hormones aren't fluctuating.. Just random moments throughout the day are difficult -- a specific post or message we receive, a conversation we're having, or just a quiet time during the day. It starts with a quivering chin, but ends up with us holding each other.

We know it's all "normal" .. but normal isn't easy.

And Then The Hardest Part...

On Sunday, January 26th, in the late afternoon.. I began to feel some contractions. But being as this was my first time through pregnancy, it could have been anything from gas pains to Braxton Hicks for all I knew. By late evening, they were coming about four per hour, but still very randomly spaced and never appeared to get longer or stronger. I decided to call the on-call OB, who told me Braxton Hicks were common earlier in twin pregnancies. She added to drink a bunch of water and rest on my side, and see how it went through the night.

Not much changed, until morning, when a portion of my mucous plug, with blood, had come out. My heart sank immediately. I knew this was bad. I called Brad and told him we needed to go to the OB's office. As I got in the car with Brad, I took his hand, and said "Babe, you need to expect the worst."

First they checked for heartbeats, both there and strong, but any relief was short lived as the pelvic exam showed that I was dilated and one of the sacs was bulging out. I knew by the look on their faces that it was over. But they still decided to send me to Indianapolis, via ambulance, to be in the care of the high risk doctors there. As they wheeled me out of the office, I remember looking at my husband's face.. so shocked and nervous. I wanted so badly to wake up and realize none of this was happening.

About an hour later, I arrived in Indy, and was quickly taken to a labor and delivery room. As they were going over all the standard questions, the contractions were getting much more frequent (every 4-5 minutes). The nurse asked when my husband would likely arrive. I knew in my heart that was code for, "You'll be giving birth soon, and I hope he makes it."

So many doctors and nurses flooded in and out, but the consensus was that there was nothing they could do to stop labor. My babies were coming, and once they arrived, they could do nothing to save them. An impossible pill to swallow.. especially for a first time mother who tried so hard to conceive them. That was the moment that everything became surreal.

Brad arrived, and things progressed quickly. Very quickly. I was near fully dilated and they told us that delivery was imminent. Up until this point, I had been so 'pulled together' and telling the nurses I was okay, and that I knew I just had to go with it. But as each contraction came, and my babies were closer to arriving, I began to fall apart.

I remember, at one point, asking the nurse if there was any way to make sure the babies weren't born alive.. because I didn't want them to suffer. I knew it could sound cold before I even said it. Luckily the nurse knew exactly what I meant and assured me that most babies at 19 weeks don't survive the process of labor and would likely be stillborn. So from that point on, I was expecting to give birth to my deceased children. The emotions that came with that realization are impossible to describe.

Labor was quickly in full swing. I struggled to catch my breath.. as I sobbed my way through each contraction. The nurse kept offering me pain meds, and each time, I declined.. struggling to explain to her that I wasn't crying at all because of the physical pain. It was my heart breaking that they couldn't do anything about..

And soon it was time to push. As I looked at my husband, all I could say was "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," over and over. He kept telling me "It's okay." But he had no way of knowing the depth of my apology. I was sorry that my body wasn't cooperating, yet again. I was sorry that our dream was slipping away from us. But mostly, I was sorry for something he couldn't grasp at that moment. Because I knew that me pushing, meant the death of our babies. Every fiber in my being wished I could will it to stop. To just refuse to push. And I was so sorry that I couldn't.

The first was born, with a gush of fluid (my water had not broken beforehand), and I wept in a way I had never before. My hands were over my eyes. I wasn't ready. I heard Brad ask, "Do you want to see the baby?" I couldn't even look. I just barely got out, "Not yet," as tears streamed down my face.

But within seconds, a nurse came to my other ear and said, "He has a heartbeat." I uncovered my eyes and immediately asked for the baby. I knew the moments were few, and I didn't want to miss any second of their lives.

When the nurse cleaned the baby up a bit later, we found out that 'he' was actually a 'she.' Jasper Kaelyn was my first born. Our baby girl.

As soon as I held her, all my tears stopped.. though my heart was still breaking into a million pieces. Brad held it together until I asked him if he wanted to hold her. As he took her, tears started streaming down his face. He was a father, in perhaps the most unfair way possible, but undoubtedly a loving and protective father.

We passed her back and forth, making the most of the time we had. But every time she wiggled or moved her mouth, I couldn't tell if my heart was going to burst from so much love or such unbelievable heartache.

What only felt to me like 10 or 15 minutes, was actually an hour later.. when baby number two made his arrival. No doubting this was a boy. Bodhi Steven emerged, lanky with huge hands. Definitely his father's boy. And again, "This one has a heartbeat too."

I couldn't believe that both were strong enough to survive birth, and that Jasper had survived an hour, waiting patiently for her twin brother to arrive. I remember holding them both, peaceful tears falling down my face, as I took Brad's hand.. "They really wanted to meet us..."

The most bittersweet moment of our lives, breathing in our two babies.. who we had waited so long for.. but knowing it was also goodbye. There would be no baby showers. No pediatrician appointments. No first steps. No shopping for their first school dance. No teaching them how to drive.

This was it. We had to squeeze a lifetime of love and dreams into a few short minutes.

I tried to keep some positive perspective, even as my world felt like it was crumbling around me. Turning again to my husband, "These are our babies. And no matter what, they've made us better and closer. That's their gift to us."

And then they were gone.. within just moments of each other.

They offered to let us keep holding them, but we decided to not see them again. I just wanted my memories to be of those fleeting moments with them, and I was trying desperately to not cling to the idea of what was already gone. So we picked out their clothes, confirmed the spelling of their names, and it was over...

Not long after, I passed most of the placenta, but not all. So they informed me that I would need a procedure done to remove it. The first option for the procedure they gave me was to have an epidural done. I pleaded to not have it. My entire goal was to have a natural birth, and though it was far sooner than planned, I had succeeded in that. To get through the worst of it, only to be told I'd need an epidural anyway, was just not something I could accept after all I'd just gone through. Luckily, I had a nurse that turned into an advocate, and argued on my behalf. In the end, they were able to retrieve it manually (albeit, in an operating room) with me under partial sedation.

I remember as I was laying there, waiting for the sedation to kick in, staring at the lights above me.. tears rolling down my cheeks.. that this all couldn't be real. This couldn't have all just happened within a few hours time. But when I woke up, it was just as cold and lonely as when I went under. And that's when the emotional toll really started to break me apart.

They brought me back to the room, where Brad had been waiting for me. We were both thoroughly exhausted at this point, so we decided to just go to bed. But as I was washing my face, I fell apart. It was the sudden realization that I was no longer pregnant. That I just gave birth to our two babies, but we wouldn't be taking either of them with us when we left.

I made my way to the bed, trying to not wake up Brad, but I was quite unsuccessful. He made his way over in the darkness, and climbed into the hospital bed with me.. holding me as I sobbed uncontrollably. I did pause long enough to remark that he was probably breaking the rules. His reply? "They do it in the movies." But that split second of lightheartedness didn't last.

I remember then telling him that I felt like a failure as a wife and mother.. that I couldn't even protect my own children -- I could do nothing to save them. All I could do was apologize over and over for letting him, and them, down.

But he whispered all the right things, as he always does, and we had a good cry together. But he never left the bed. He slept next to me the entire night until a doctor came to check on me in the morning. She cracked a little smile. Even if he wasn't 'supposed' to be there, she certainly wasn't going to say anything.

By morning, we knew we were going home. That's when it set in for Brad.. He just looked at me and said, "It feels like we're leaving something behind."

And we were. I knew that he and I were the only ones who would ever understand what had just happened, and the emptiness of holding your newborns, but going home without them. My inner voice was screaming, "Where are my babies?! I want my babies!" I knew his was screaming the same thing.

As he went to warm up the car, I stood alone in the hospital room, trying to absorb every minute detail.. about the room, the bed, the equipment. My children spent their entire lives in this room... Every little thing mattered in that moment.

Brad came back in to find me standing in the middle of the room, at the end of the bed where I delivered Jasper and Bodhi, with tears rolling down my face. One half of me wanted to flee .. to just be at home with my husband -- to heal. But the other... oh, the other didn't want to leave without her children.

We both struggled as we left the parking garage, making our way out of Indianapolis, feeling like there should be two car seats in the back... but it was empty.

Coming home was hardly the end of it... The challenge was just beginning.

(Since writing this, so many contacted us asking how they could help. We decided to start a fundraiser in hopes of trying again. If you would like to help us get our second chance, please visit gofundme.com/shilorfund.)

The (Vegan and Eco) Baby Registry

Yesterday, we went to Toys R' Us/Babies R' Us to finish out (or nearly finish) our registry. I had already started several registries online, but my mother wanted to take us "baby shopping," so I figured while we were there, we might as well scan a few things.

The good news? We got two car seats. One HUGE purchase off our registry.. and with a coupon, we got $70 off the pair. :D (Many thanks to my mother who bought one, while we bought the other.)

The bad news? As we strolled the aisles, my mother was frequently asking, "Well, what about this brand? Would you use this? Can your babies have this?"

And what she was trying to figure out was which brands/items were congruent with our vegan and eco/green choices. She stated several times, "Well, you better tell people this so they don't get you a bunch of stuff you won't use."

And the truth is, I appreciated that she cared enough to ask, and she wasn't the first. One of my husband's relatives had also inquired, "We are getting ready to shop now and in case we find any cute baby stuff is there anything we shouldn't buy? (Regarding your animal rights convictions.)"

But I keep feeling apologetic and/or rude when I answer these questions. So, I tried to figure out a way to tackle this that didn't come across as demanding. Sure, we made registries, but people like to buy unique items for baby, or just see small items here and there and pick them up without thinking. We knew a registry wasn't going to be enough. So, how do we tell people what we prefer? I just wasn't sure.

But once several people asked, I accepted that if people are going to go out of their way to gift us with something, they'd surely want it to be something we would proudly use and is in line with our ideals/ethics. So I sat down to write a blog post, explaining what brands/items we like and have researched.

That said, I KNOW it can be confusing. I'm constantly researching brands and ingredients. For example, most people wouldn't check an ingredient label on baby wipes, notice Lanolin listed, and realize that it wasn't vegan. Nor would the average person think about the fact that Johnson & Johnson does animal testing, so it also isn't suitable for a vegan (plus full of artificial colors/fragrances/chemicals that would turn off any hippie.. lol).

So, before I dive into this list.. which I hope will make things easier, realize that I'm grateful that anyone cares enough to read or follow it. And should you find yourself with any other vegan/activist/hippie/treehuggers in your circle of friends, this list may help you in the future ;)

Unfortunately, many of these 'natural' brands are only easily found online (I'll list the websites, which will be linked directly to the products/brands). But for those you can actually find in stores, I'll list the brick and mortar store as well.

Baby's Only Organic: soy formula (Amazon.com, Drugstore.com)

California Baby: toiletries (Drugstore.com, Target.com)

Dapple: cleaners and wipes (Babies R' Us, Drugstore.com, ToysRUs.com)

Earth's Best: diapers and wipes (Amazon.com, Babies R' Us, Drugstore.com, Target.com, ToysRUs.com)

Earth Mama Angel Baby: toiletries (Drugstore.com, EarthMamaAngelBaby.com, Target.com)

The Honest Co.: diapers, wipes, toiletries, toys, gear (Honest.com)

Melissa & Doug: toys (MelissaAndDoug.com, Toys R' Us, ToysRUs.com)

Nature Babycare (Naty): diapers and wipes (Amazon.com, Drugstore.com)

Seventh Generation: diapers, wipes, and toiletries (Amazon.com, Drugstore.com, Meijer, Target, Target.com)

For clothing/blankets/bedding, just avoid wool, leather, suede and silk. I know. I know. That means no leather chaps...

For toys, we prefer mostly wooden and cloth (such as Melissa & Doug listed above), with minimal plastics.. though we know we will have/need some.

For bottles, we are avoiding plastic. Nearly all bottles and food containers will be glass.

When in doubt, feel free to use one of our several registries for guidance or just get a gift receipt. We are registered at Amazon.com, EarthMamaAngelBaby.com, Toys R' Us/Babies R' Us, and Target.

We would like to promote a chemical/animal free lifestyle for our children, and we appreciate your efforts to support us in this cause.

My Closest Ally

I'm not the type that constantly posts sappy statuses on Facebook about my husband. Or if I do, I tack on some crude or sarcastic humor for good measure. ;) But I feel the need to give him some serious props for going through this latest journey with me.

When he found out I would have fertility issues (before getting married), he didn't panic or run the other way. He calmly told me that being with me was the most important thing. Anything else was just icing.

When the treatments put me in the hospital, he didn't panic. He took days off of work, never leaving my side. Unquestionably taking better care of me than a single nurse there. Remaining unfazed by my ballooning stature, the IVs in my arms, or the fluid leaking from my abdomen.

When we found out I was pregnant with not one, but two, he didn't panic. He did joke, "As long as it's not three." No question though, I started to panic at this point, and he kept me sane with his stillness.

When some blood work came back, showing that I was at a higher risk for one or both babies having a chromosomal disorder, he didn't panic. He just kept asking me how I was, what I wanted to do, and promising to be there with me no matter what happened. (I decided to not do any invasive testing, since my odds were still fairly low, and it didn't feel worth the risk of miscarrying both.)

And now, as the reality of the situation is slowly sinking in, he's not panicking. When I freak out thinking about how we're going to afford two of everything, from diapers to cribs, or how we'll manage our time with two little ones (which, you know, with a pregnant woman.. usually involves a serious crying session), he remains steadfast and reassuring. Always quick to say that he's willing to do whatever it takes to take care of his family.

So, to my husband, I am so lucky and grateful to have you by my side during this huge life shift. Every single day, I see women either trying to do it by themselves, or with much 'lesser' and unsupportive men. But you constantly surprise me -- always going above and beyond what I expect from you; without complaint. And every step, set-back or progress, we go through, I find myself falling even more in love with you.. somehow surprised that the amazing man I married is in fact more amazing than I ever anticipated. Your love for me, and now your future children, is inspiring. You have been my closest ally, and I can't wait to see you as a father. <3