Press the RESET button...

Vacation!  How little us Americans take.  We fear that our "2 weeks paid vacation" is really a test to see how dedicated we our to our jobs.  The heartiest of workers exclaim that they haven't missed a day of work since 1998, and they have a whopping 20 weeks saved up!  WOW!  You've literally pissed away a decade in a cubicle.  Now, I happen to be one of the fortunate ones who doesn't work in a cubicle and doesn't have a boss with an abacus counting down my vacation days for the year.  But, I do get sucked into the guilty feeling of being away from the "man" for too long.  But, oh, how a vacation revitalizes, refreshes, relieves the stresses of everyday life.  

Now you might already assume that I am on vacation, and you are correct!  I went for a glass of wine with a girlfriend just a few days before I left for this vacation in Hawaii.  She made a comment that Frank and I really just needed to "press the reset button" on life.  Her words have really resonated with me this vacation.  I began pondering the idea of every American taking 2- 2 week vacations a year.  How much more productive and positive would our country be?  Just think of how happy that lady at the post office would be if she had just returned from her two week vacation in Hawaii.  Or, how the Barrista at Starbucks would gloat about her trip to Costa Rica where she actually got to sniff the espresso beans she now serves.  What about that local friendly bartender who is friendly only because he backpacked for 4 weeks through Europe this past Spring.  Anyone can travel, everyone has the means if they so desire.  Why do we live to work, how about working to live?  No matter what you do, who you are, what tragedies or triumphs you've faced, everyone deserves to "press the reset button" every now and again!

God only gives you what you can handle?

Throughout my grieving process many friends have commented "I know this doesn't make it any easier...  but God only gives you what you can handle".  Well, no, it doesn't make it any easier, and I'm not so sure it is necessarily true.

Let me get a few things straight.  I was raised "Christian".  My mom was raised mormon/catholic and my dad Episcopalian but they were married in a Protestant church.  My maternal grandfather always said "you are closest to God on top of a mountain with your family".  Having never religiously attended formal church proceedings (no pun intended, or maybe just a little) his sentiment is the best way I can describe my spiritual roots.  I have traveled the world and witnessed many religious traditions and beliefs.  Allah, the Light, the Creator, God, Buddha, Zeus, etc. are any of the names I have heard with reference to the "great one" or God.  Everyone has varying beliefs of where we came from and who was our Creator but almost without fail every religion believes that there is a greater being.  For the sake of my purpose here I will refer to him/her as God. 

Isn't it our purpose here on Earth to be more like God?  Aren't we supposed to do good to our fellow men, create happiness for ourselves, and in turn we will someday go to heaven?  Aren't we supposed to act like God, and when we fall short, pray for His forgiveness?  Why then, do people continue to believe that God only gives us what we can handle?  Why are the good, strong, confident humans punished with terrible losses & tragedies simply because they can handle it?  Why are the teenage crack moms blessed with healthy babies?  I am not a believer that God only gives us what we can handle, rather I think we are dealt different hands of cards and our Godliness is based on how we handle them.  Now don't get me wrong, I do "freak out" from time to time as do most.  However, I have always felt that given the toughest of scenarios I can think clearly and react accordingly.  Someday I hope that this "payment" to the universe will pay dividends and result in a wonderful family for my husband and I.  We are blessed in so many ways, but for now I just hope that my reaction & dealings with tragedy will someday result in a happy family ending.   

A tree

The single most important part of the grieving process is support for the griever.  We have been so incredibly lucky in that area.  The outpouring of support has been amazing.  Our home looked like a florist's shop for about a month.  People stopped by with dinners, "pampering" gifts, cards, gift cards, and sweets.  We even had some friends who purchased 2 stars in the sky for our girls.  Everytime I look up at the sky I know that the two most beautiful twinkling stars are Raphael & Lailah looking down on us.  It has been really quite amazing and we continue to feel so blessed to have the amazing friends that we do.  

A group of our friends purchased a tree in Camel's back park in memory of our angels.  Camel's back park is a very special place in Boise.  It is the starting point for many hiking and mountain biking trails.  There are tennis courts, a huge play gym, a large grass field, all set up against a "camel's back" hillside.  In the summer there are families picnicking, couples playing tennis, and teenagers playing pick up games of soccer & football.  In the winter it is a very popular sledding hill.  And, year round there are always plenty of young kids swinging and sliding on the play gym.  This park is about 10 blocks from our house and is a place we frequent with our dog, Maya.  

Yesterday our visit to Camel's back was a little different as the plaque for Raphael & Lailah had been placed at the base of "our tree".  The park itself has always been such a special place for us and now it holds even more meaning as our girls will forever be remembered in such a beautiful place.  I know that they will watch over us and all of our kids as we play in the park. Even though they are not with us physically, spiritually they will get to be a part of our friend's kids lives forever.  We are so honored and touched by the kind gesture of commemorating our angels in such a special way. 

Thank you to all of our wonderful friends and family who have held our hands through the worst days of our lives!

The beginning

My "fresh" perspective began on the worst day of my life.  My husband, Frank and I were 23 weeks 2 days pregnant when our twin daughters were born angels.  

It took us about a year to get pregnant which made the positive pregnancy test that much more exciting.  Immediately I bought no less than 25 pregnancy books and read all of them cover to cover.  Even my husband got sucked into the pregnancy vacuum.  I followed every dietary restriction, exercised regularly, took pre-natal yoga, prayed, rubbed my belly, talked to my belly,  eat organic, never missed a pre-natal vitamin, and overall felt like a glowing beautiful pregnant woman.  Everything was right on track, I was having a great pregnancy, so I thought.  

Tuesday, September 30th, 2008 I came home from work and had some tightening in my upper abdomen and lower back pain.  The on-call physician told me to "come in" to L&D triage to get checked out.  Sure enough I was having contractions.  Three L&D triage visits & 1 office visit later they still didn't know what was going on, the contractions were not subsiding.  I was on antibiotics for a possible kidney infection (although my urine was clean), pain killers for the contractions, trebutaline to reduce the contractions, and strict bed rest.  Again, I followed my doctors and nurses orders to the t.  By Saturday the contractions were much worse and at this point even the pain killers weren't helping.  That night we went into L&D triage again and routinely they searched for the baby's heartbeats.  They couldn't find the heartbeats on doppler or ultrasound in triage, so I was transported down to Radiology where the ultrasound machines & techs are much more accurate.  Each previous visit, finding the heartbeats had been a challenge because there were 2 of them and I was only 23 weeks.  As the transporter wheeled me to radiology and my husband walked beside me, I had no idea that the babies could be in trouble.  

The ultrasound tech spent about 1 minute on my belly and ran out of the room saying "I'll be right back".  My husband and I looked at each other wondering what was wrong.  She returned explaining that she couldn't tell us anything without a doctor present and that the on-call radiologist wouldn't be there for another 30-45 minutes.  "What????"  We looked at each other in disbelief, my heart dropped and a I felt like I had just taken my last breath.  Our doctor had given us his pager number early in our pregnancy (not sure why, either he liked us or we looked high maintenance), so my husband paged him.  "Do you know what is going on, because they won't tell us anything?" Frank asked... long pause... "OK, we'll see you in a bit".  He turned to me, with the saddest eyes I've ever seen, and had to tell me that our babies no longer had heart beats.  We spent the next 30 minutes sobbing hugging and praying that this was a nightmare.  

8:00am the next morning I delivered our babies, vaginally, after a long night of induced labor.  We held our sweet angels and even in my grief ridden state I looked at our sleeping girls and knew that my life would never be the same.  They changed me forever.  

So there you have our very sad story!  My objective in telling you this is to give you a bit of history so you can better interpret where I am coming from.  Despite having the "perfect" pregnancy I still lost my sweet angels.  I have had to dig deep into the depths of my soul to find a way to move forward from that tragic day.  

So here I sit 3 months later creating a blog.  A blog that is intended to recount the aftermath of my tragic loss, the process of healing, and maybe even getting pregnant again.  I hope that someday soon I will become pregnant and I plan to chronicle the whole thing, from this new perspective.  I want to write about the entire process, the frustrations, the highs and lows, and the miracle of getting pregnant.  I want to write about an inspired pregnancy, one that isn't full of the modern day pregnancy propaganda, but one that is about the pure and simple miracle of creating life.  I'm not sure which direction each entry will go, but I promise to speak honestly and from the heart.  Think of me as the Jerry McGuire  of pregnancy bloggists.