Babyloss, Life, parenting

Twins: Together Forever

One of the advantages of having two babies at once is that they have a built-in playmate, a friend to learn and grow up with. It’s something everyone said to me when I found out I was having twins, that they would never be lonely. And it’s one of the consolations I have about losing them. That they have always been together, and will always be, even in death.

When we first lost them and were “doing the rounds”, calling everybody to let them know, one of the first things people said was ‘they couldn’t even save one?’. It’s hard to explain why, but this question made me hurt even more. If I couldn’t have them both, why could I only have one? How could I have chosen between them? How could I separate my boys like that, when they had only ever known each other?

The only, tiny comfort I had when their hearts stopped beating was that they stopped together. That even in the afterlife, they will always have a friend. They naturally shared a coffin at the funeral, and we released two blue balloons, tied together, after the ceremony. One balloon dragged behind a little bit – I know this was simply the helium starting to run out, but I like to think of it as my little boy Eric reluctant to leave us, and his bigger twin brother gently guiding him to a better place. Helping each other just the way they would have if they had lived. 

It must be nice to watch your twins grow up together, knowing they will always have a friend. I don’t get that. It is admittedly painful for me to see other twins displaying that connection.

I do, however, know that that special twin connection is a beautiful thing; and that it can’t be beaten by death. My sons will always be twins, and always have each other. Even if one had lived and one had not, I have come to realise that that would always be true, just in a different way.

Standard
Baby Number 3, Babyloss, Life, parenting

Mother’s Day approaches.

Mother’s Day is this Sunday, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ve looked forward to it every year since becoming a mother. Even though my first Mother’s Day was spent with empty arms. Even though last Mother’s Day, Matt and I had only recently separated, and he’s not a terribly thoughtful person to begin with. Even though this year, while it’s off to a better start than previous years, is probably set to end in a similar way. Me feeling sad, under-appreciated, but also strangely re-affirmed in my role as a mother.

My first Mother’s Day I remember I wanted so badly for other’s to recognise that it was my Mother’s Day too. My sons may not have been there, but I was still a mother. Matt wished me a happy Mother’s Day and gave me a quick hug as I got out of bed that morning, and that made me feel pretty great despite the sadness hiding within the hug. But what followed was a completely average day. There was no breakfast in bed, no barbecue in my honour, no cards, no cute home-made gifts, and most importantly no babies to hug. Getting back into bed that night, I cried thinking of what my first Mother’s Day should have been. Even if I hadn’t received anything else, I should have had two little boys to hold tight and make me feel grateful to be a mother. Instead what I had was emptiness. But as I pulled my blankets up, I looked out at the stars, and thought of my sons and how they wouldn’t want me to be sad – especially on Mother’s Day. I was their mother, after all.

Last Mother’s Day was, as a mentioned before, not long after Matthew and I separated. It wasn’t the best day. I spent it with Matt, I’m not even sure why considering I’d just left him. We invited his parents down to the local pub, ate pizza, and drank vodka (or at least, I did). At the end of the day, I was still pretty sad, but I had Charlie to cuddle and I felt pretty damn grateful for that.

This Mother’s Day I’m not sure what I’m hoping for. The truth is, every holiday sucks a little when you’re a bereaved parent. Even on the happy days, if there’s not at least tiny bit of sadness then there’s guilt for not feeling sad.

Anyway, happy Mother’s Day everyone! Whether you’re a new mum, a single mum, an empty-nester, or a mum with empty arms. Whatever kind of mum you are, happy Mother’s Day.

Standard