Coming Soon..

We have thanked those that contributed to and shared our fundraiser a few times over. But now we get to thank them in maybe the best way. We are thrilled (and a bit terrified) to announce that another baby Shilor is on the way.

Amazingly enough, the treatments worked again, on the very first try. What is even more of a breathtaking kismet type of thing is that we actually conceived on the twins' due date (6/21). Anybody who has done any sort of fertility treatment knows it would be impossible to plan such a thing.

We had originally planned to announce at the housewarming, but the house came along far slower than expected (we STILL don't have a functioning microwave.. lol). When we had to push that back, we knew there was no way we could hide the pregnancy for another month. Figured we'd go ahead and announce now :)

We have had two ultrasounds already (6 week and 8 week), and are quite relieved that this pregnancy is a singleton, which means much less chance for later complications. However, I will be monitored closely, and there might be a procedure or two along the way.

This is sure to be another whirlwind journey for us. So keep your fingers crossed and knock on wood that everything goes smoothly.

Baby is due 3.14.15 (Hey nerd friends, that's Pi Day.. to the fourth decimal! --if you don't round up of course--)

Six Months

Today marks exactly 6 months since I held you both for the first time.. and the last time. All at once, time seemed to halt, yet pass in the blink of an eye. It's truly still hard to believe that it happened at all. But the lingering ache reminds me that it did.

The grief has changed. It's more subtle most days.. like imagining your voices in the wind as it gently rustles through the trees. Or standing in the doorway to our spare bedroom -- knowing that two cribs should be in there by now. It's different, but not any easier.

This one is very short, as far as blogs go. But it's not for lack of feeling. It's just that I've used nearly all the words I have, to share so many moments of guilt, pain, and grief.

All that is left, and will ever be, is to say that we still miss you.

Due Date

Today, June 21st of 2014, was your due date. Sure, we expected you to arrive weeks ahead of schedule, as twins normally do. But 6/21 will forever be the date marked in my heart as the one when you were supposed to arrive.

I'll probably receive a slew of automated "Congratulations" from all the websites I made registries on. And it will sting -- just like all the reminders I've gotten to buy a stroller, or the samples of formula I've found waiting in our mailbox. These companies don't know that we met you months ago.. or that we already had to say good-bye.

And we're going to spend this day moving into our new home. A home you were supposed to be raised in -- with a nursery that was supposed to be yours. I know exactly where the cribs would have gone. I can picture you both in the bathtub splashing around right before bedtime. I can imagine you playing in the back yard. I can hear your laughter (and fighting) as you chase each other up and down the hallway. I will always feel your life in this place.

But the best I can do today, is to move your ashes there. To place them on the mantle above the brick fireplace. So I may ache, and I may cry, but I will be happy for one thing. --- That even though you didn't arrive into the world today, you will be coming home.

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.

A Terrible Friend

Yes, I've been a terrible friend this year. The reasons for that might be obvious to some, but I still feel like I should apologize for it.

I haven't been able to set-up a dinner date with a girlfriend, or feel excited about bridesmaid duties. Hell, I haven't even been texting my friends to check in. I've also avoided nearly every family gathering. Mostly because I still feel too emotionally crippled to take on being social or helpful. And I do feel bad for it.

So, to every friend that has texting me and gotten no response, or a very short one, I appreciate the attempt. To friends that are relying on me to share events in your life, from weddings to pregnancies, I'm trying. Please be gentle, and know that I'm excited for you even if I can't seem to show it.

You see, within the next week or two, we were told to expect the twins' arrival. Their due date was June 21st, but twins usually come a few weeks early. In fact, I had befriended a woman who had the exact same due date as I did, and she was also pregnant with twins. Her two girls were born on May 13th, and are doing well. I can't even type that without feeling pangs of jealousy and sadness -- despite my happiness for her.

So, as you might imagine, this month will be especially hard. It's not uncommon for me to break down the instant I'm alone somewhere.. whether it's the shower, driving to work, or laying in bed the instant that my husband leaves for work. Knowing that they would have been home with me now is heart-crushing in a way I haven't felt for a few months.

And soon, we will be starting treatments, leaving more secluded.. due to nausea, fatigue, and general discomfort.

So, I'm asking you all to stick it out. Sooner or later, I'll return (at least mostly) to the friend you knew.

My Baby Birds - Mother's Day (and Tattoos)

To my children,

I knew this day would come, but I had no idea it would arrive without you. Tomorrow, mothers everywhere will be waking up to breakfast in bed, made with the helping hands of their children, even if that means burnt toast or misshapen pancakes. They'll be receiving handmade cards, written in crayon. Or they'll get calls from their grown children that now live hours away.

My day will be very different. I won't wake up to your faces. I won't ever see your names scribbled by your own hand. But I don't want this day to be about everything I don't have.

You know, when I was around four months pregnant with you, I started to picture my baby shower. I fell in love with the idea of having everything white and robin's egg blue. In fact, those were the colors I was going to paint your nursery. I had already picked out your bedding that was printed with little birds. And ever since then, I imagined myself as a mama bird.. First, building her nest. Then with two beautiful turquoise eggs just waiting to hatch.

But then you came along. Everything shattered wide open, and nothing went according to plan. But there you were, my two baby birds. So delicate. So powerfully fragile. And I held you that way -- so carefully that I could barely feel you in my arms.

And just like any bird, I knew I'd only have a few moments to watch you.. in all your beauty and grace. Soon, you would take flight, and all I would have was the feeling I had when I held you so gently. And oh, how I remember it. I still feel you there from time to time. So perfectly balanced in my arms.

The day after you left, your father suggested we get tattoos in your honor. He wanted something on himself that represented you. A reminder of holding you so briefly. I knew instantly what it would be. The only thing that felt right... Earlier today, we made that happen.

We got matching feather infinity symbols (my shoulder, his upper arm), and I got a small bird on each arm.. to remind me of when you resided there.. The only perch you would ever know.

 

 

And just so you know, I always see birds in pairs now. Waiting in the bushes when I leave in the morning. Or perched atop the fence at the new house, just outside the master bedroom window, when we first went to look at it (I instantly felt at home).

I see you in their flight, and I hear you in their song. And my heart sinks and soars at the same time. But either way, it sings out for you.

It always will.. because you taught it how.

If you'd like to commemorate Mother's Day with a kind gesture, please visit GoFundMe.com/ShilorFund.

His Birthday

Tomorrow is my husband's birthday. And like every 'event' this year, it's emotionally heavy. I had envisioned this day, guessing I'd feel pretty miserable, with twins just weeks away from arrival. And though I'd be bloated and cranky, I'd know I was giving my husband the best gift ever. The one thing he really wanted.

You see, this was supposed to be his last birthday before someone called him "Daddy."

It breaks my heart that I can no longer promise him that. So now, in comparison, nothing feels right -- or like enough. I simply can't make up for losing his gift.

All we have now are birthday wishes. The biggest is that we can conceive again, and to have a successful, full-term, pregnancy.

But a close second is that we simply stay the way we are... so madly in love and closer than ever. This has been, unquestionably, the worst year of our lives. It feels odd to celebrate it. But at the same time, I have to recognize that it was another year I got with my best friend. For that, I have to be grateful.

I found this card I gave my husband on his 30th birthday. Part of it says, "Go along for the ride, and enjoy the surprises... It's all just to make you smile."

That same year, I got him this brick engraved that is right outside of Wrigley Field. It says, "This is our year."

So, to my husband.. Thank you for taking this ride WITH me. I promise to keep making you smile. And every year I get with you.. is our year.

Happy Birthday.

If you'd like to commemorate his birthday with a kind gesture, please visit GoFundMe.com/ShilorFund.