So today is weird. My youngest, Archer, is sick. My oldest, Oliver, is home from a half day of school. And I have so much meal planning and list making (and laundry doing, and bathroom cleaning, and, and, and) to do that I’m feeling a bit overhwelmed. And it’s on days like this that I feel annoyed and lucky at the same time because I have these responsibilities, and this life, and the ability to be home with these little guys.
I didn’t always want kids. I didn’t always want two. And it almost came to be that we had three at one point. I’ve talked about my miscarriage between Oliver and Archer a little bit… But have not told many people that part. There were two. Four weeks apart (right?!). Apparently that’s a thing. A thing I didn’t know about until right at that moment. And when I told Oliver’s speech therapist at the time she said to me “oh yeah! My grandma is a ‘twin’ like that.”
I wouldn’t have been able to handle twins. No freaking way. Some days I can barely handle one being two years old, I cannot imagine how much of a handful two would be. So, in a way, I am thankful. Not just for that reason, but many more. The biggest one being the kiddo that is Archer. He would, in fact, not be here if my miscarriage didn’t happen.
I think about that day sometimes. Mostly when I’m watching CSI: Miami and they’re talking about the baby that the victim was pregnant with, and then they show some stock photo. You’ve seen the episodes, you know. And I say something off the cuff like “it doesn’t really look like that.” And Daryl looks at me like I’m crazy. It’s true, it doesn’t look like that. I remember it well.
I remember calling my midwives and telling them what I saw. And asking what I should do. And I remember crying in the bathroom for a few minutes before wadding up some toilet paper and waking Daryl up to go get me some feminine products. I remember messaging Courtney. I remember going to my ultrasound appointment afterwards thinking I was done. And I remember them telling me there wasn’t a heartbeat, and things “should purge on their own in a few days.” And I remember thinking they were crazy, and telling them what had happened a day before.
I remember being at my nephew’s basketball game here when my midwives called me to tell me what they thought had happened. And how they explained to me that it’s not unheard of, but it’s unusual. And then I remember them saying that my body had a reason for this happening. And I don’t remember much after that. Because even though I knew that, I didn’t want to hear it.
A range of emotions went through me, and still does when I sit down and think about it. I was relieved (hi, not twins. No thanks.), and devastated. I was in pain, physically and emotionally. I was afraid we would never have another baby. I wasn’t sure I wanted to try again.
It’s pregnancy and infant loss rememberance day. I remember. And I still feel those mix of emotions. And then I look around and remember that sometimes, things do happen for a reason.
Thinking of all my friends today who share that mix of emotions, and those whose cuts are still fresh. I love you all. And thinking of those two littles.