Guilt

Warning: This might be a graphic post.

Guilt is hard. I think it is probably one of the hardest things I've been dealing with the last few months. All moms go through some feelings of guilt. I felt so guilty when I had to go back to work and the girls were just two months old. I felt like I was abandoning them. I felt a lot of guilt when they wouldn't eat the hundreds of ounces of breast milk I had pumped and frozen for them. They were picky and only liked it fresh. I felt guilty when the nurses took care of them because I felt like it was my job and I just couldn't do it on my own. Mostly though, I've felt a lot of guilt about leaving them.

I constantly think about the morning Carynne died. After Jake and I had said our goodbyes, I laid her back down on that cold, hard gurney in the ER and stood up. We kept trying to walk out of the room and we kept turning around to look at her one more time. They were going to get her cleaned up and take her down to the morgue. From there, the funeral home was going to pick her up and take her down to their downtown morgue. I can't even begin to describe in words the guilt that we felt. It was like we were abandoning her there, in a cold, strange place that we knew nothing about. How were they going to treat her? What were they going to do with her? These were questions we should have been asking daycare centers, but instead we had to ask a funeral home.

When Sydney died, she died in my arms, at home. I held her for about an hour before the funeral home came to pick her up. It was dark and freezing outside. It was the middle of February. Two men came into the house and saw that she was an infant and requested that I walk her outside myself. We wrapped her in a soft green blanket that Jake's mom had given to us at our baby shower. I carried her outside as Jake held the doors open for me. I crunched my feet across the frozen grass to the back of some Chevrolet SUV. They already had another body in the back. I was disgusted! Completely disgusted that they made my baby ride in the back of some SUV with a stranger! We kissed her forehead one last time and laid her on the black plastic gurney. We buckled her in and asked the two men to please make sure she was put beside her sister so they could keep each other company. And off she went, downtown, to join her sister.

And all of a sudden, Jake and I were alone, standing in the driveway. Cold. Childless.

I know I can't feel guilty about this stuff. I had no control over any of it. It's just natural for a parent to have that need to be with their child. I can type all of this out, but it is a lot easier for my fingers to type than for my head and my heart to believe.

An Open Letter

Let me make it clear that I'm talking about the insurance company, United Healthcare, and not the proposed legislation for universal healthcare for all Americans. Two totally different things.

Dear United Healthcare,

I hate you! I don't understand why you feel the need to deny every claim twice before you finally approve it. Nothing has changed between each submission, you just want to avoid paying out big sums of money that you know you owe. I don't understand why every single time I talk to one of your representatives I have to explain that my children are not currently covered under a specific healthcare plan because they are deceased. Why can't you put that in their file so I don't have to explain myself every.single.time? I don't understand why it has taken you seven months to respond to Pediatric Nursing Services and when you finally do respond, you tell them that you can't process their claim because the birth dates don't match up. How is that even possible? You have paid other claims with the birthdate you have on file; the same birthdate that was used when PNS submitted their claims.

Just for good measure, in case you didn't fully grasp it the first time, I hate you! I hate that you give innocent people the runaround. I hate that each of your representatives has a different answer for the same question. I hate that you have the power to ruin a person, financially, emotionally and physically.

Sincerely,

Brook

p.s. There is one thing that I do love about our relationship...I love that as of 9/30/09 it will be ending!

Memories:

Girlies I normally talk to you about missing you and what I miss about you, but I want to share my memories of your mommy and daddy. These are things I had the privilege of witnessing and things that I miss seeing now that your gone. A lot of times I would just sit back and smile watching them with you, here are some of my favorite things I witnessed.

I miss watching your daddy when he would hold one of you; he would cradle your neck and head with his hand and use his thumb to rub your head. It was so sweet to see how much he loved you.

I miss seeing your mommy make her "excited" face at you. She was guaranteed a smile when she did this face!

I missing seeing all the pictures that would make me giggle so hard. Your mommy and daddy would pose you playing chess, watching tv, etc. I would tell you what dorkie parents you have.

I miss walking into your house and seeing your mommy and daddy sitting there with a girlie in their arms. All four of you pretending to be asleep.

I miss watching your mommy dance with you. I've never seen anything so goofy, yet so adorable at the same time.

I miss watching your mommy get your belly and hearing the giggles that would result from it.

I miss hearing your daddy say "girlies" in the sweetest way I think I've ever heard that word said.

Even when you were sick I miss seeing how strong your mommy and daddy were and how well they took care of you. Neither with any medical experience, but they just knew how to take care of you.

Most of all I miss seeing the Pritchett family, the four of you (& Alfie). I knew your mommy and daddy before you so seeing just the two of them is familiar, but it will never be the same since I knew them with you.

Just a note

Dear Girlies,

I just wanted you to know how much I am missing you. Today would have been the perfect day with you. The weather has been so beautiful and the sun has been extra shiney. I just miss you so much and I am so mad that you aren't here to enjoy it with me. I just want you here. I want you in my arms. I want you back. I know it sounds selfish, but that is all I want. I want you with me, where you belong. I am sick of people telling me you're in a better place and other shit like that because there is no better place than in your mother's arms.

I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be so selfish. Most of the time I try to be really grateful for the time we had together, but I do have these days where I am just so angry that you're not with me anymore. I think of how much better our lives would be if you were still here. How full of love this house would be. How different things should be. I wish I could just hold you again. I love you.

Love,

Mommy

Sneaky Sister

My sneaky sister had some pictures done for me with her daughters, Amelia and Sophia, blowing bubbles for Sydney and Carynne. Verrrrry cute!

Original

Aqua

On the Surface

Have you ever ordered broccoli cheddar soup from a restaurant and had it come to you with a little layer of skin on the top? You know, where the milk has cooled and binded all of its little particles together? Then, even though it kind of turns you off for a second, you go ahead and break the skin and realize what is underneath isn't all that bad? In fact, it's usually better. I feel like some people live their lives like that layer of skin, never breaking the surface because they're too afraid of what is underneath. It is a lot easier to live that way.

I will admit, I used to be a surface girl. It is easy and low-risk to have a relationship (friendship or otherwise) with someone when you don't ever really talk about how you feel or how that person makes you feel. You never risk hurting someone's feelings or losing the relationship. But, at the same time, if you have an issue with something and never share it, you begin to hold onto it and feel hurt or sad or mad or all three rolled into one. For a while, Jake and I were getting very upset about the way some people were handling the death of the girls. We were hurt that they were being shoved out of everyone's minds; we were hurt when people sent e-mail forwards that might have been cute to others, but were insensitive to us; we were hurt when we didn't hear from people for long stretches of time simply because they didn't know what to say to us. Now, though, we've started expressing ourselves and not only does it feel good, it feels like we're living much deeper lives.

As Jake and I have gone through everything, we have learned just how many people are too afraid to talk to us, because that would require breaking their own surface. On the girls' birthday, we were very surprised when some very close family members didn't call or contact us the entire day. It hurt us a lot. We didn't understand why they wouldn't want to at least call us and see what we were doing for the girls' special day. So, we asked our families, and it turns out, they were all too afraid to call. They all gave the same response 'We just didn't know what to say so we didn't bother calling.' And we gave them all the same response 'It's ok just to call and tell us you don't know what to say, but you're thinking of the girls today and loving them.' I'm so glad we talked to them because we were able to let them know that we were using the girls' birthday to celebrate their lives, not mourn their deaths. Hopefully future birthdays will have everybody celebrating instead of mourning.

Along these lines, if you have questions about anything, don't hesitate to ask. We love talking about the girls and the life we shared with them. We also talk about their death and the months that have followed, not only to help us heal, but hopefully to help others as well.