Father's Day

Just as Mother's Day has come and gone, Father's Day has become an equally raw and uncertain day. My husband and I have to wade through the murky waters of these holidays, with no idea how to be, and definitely not feeling as if we can truly celebrate anything.

We have just begun meeting with the fertility doctor again, hoping that my body and my hormones will be ready for another go around in a month or two. As anticipated, a baseline ultrasound was required, to make sure all my innards are still where they are supposed to be and functional. The problem was that it was done in the exact same room in which we first learned we were having twins, and where we first heard their heartbeats. As I laid there staring at the ceiling, tears were silently falling from my eyes. The tech was completely unaware, since they thankfully keep the room fairly dark.

But afterwards, as I made my way down the hall to sit in another office to wait on the nurse to go over results/costs/etc, I felt like I couldn't breathe. Being back in this place where it all began, knowing that their due date was only two weeks away, and that Father's Day was looming.. was just too much for me to hold in.

So I sat in this brightly lit office trying to pull myself together, taking a deep breath as the nurse popped in. But as soon as she asked innocently, "How are you doing?," I lost all composure.. blurting out "Not good at all," as tears burst from my eyes like a leaky dam. This breakdown went on for several minutes, with me apologizing and the nurse attempting to assure me it was okay. "You've been strong for too long. Eventually you have to let it out," she said.

She was right, but it didn't make me feel any less embarrassed or weak at that moment.

As we left that day, I started to question why I fell apart to such a degree. Sure, the location was a huge trigger. But something was clearly still lingering. A constant burdening ache just waiting to bubble over.

And sure enough, it still comes back to the guilt. The feeling that the whole situation, from beginning to end, was my fault. I was still overwhelmed with the feeling that I'm the reason my husband doesn't get to celebrate Father's Day in the way he should.

If all had gone according to plan, my husband would have two newborns at home today. And it breaks my heart, because he so deserves that experience.

For his part, though.. he has been amazing as a husband -- and a father. From sharing in the excitement of every appointment to the moment that he held them, he was is a dad in every sense of the word.

Ever since he gently supported our son and daughter in his hands, I have seen him in a new light. There is something markedly different about someone being my husband and someone being the father of my children. I didn't know at the time that we could be any closer or grateful for each other, but this year has been one of great loss.. and subsequent growth.

So to my husband, thank you for the support and comfort. Thank you for our beautiful babies. And thank you for loving them and caring for them in every way that you could. The man you were in those moments will be the man I forever see and love.

Happy Father's Day.