When Jake was little, his Grandma started a scrapbook for him. It was filled with all of his school pictures, ribbons and newspaper clippings. I can go through that scrapbook and tell you every time he made the honor roll, every score or placing he had in track and tennis, and every time he had a perfect attendance semester. It is a scrapbook that reflects who he is, where he started and how far he has come. The newspaper clippings have since yellowed, but the words are a forever reminder of how he has become the person he is. I wish I had newspaper clippings for the girls.
My grandpa's obituary was in the newspaper yesterday and at the bottom it read that he was preceded in death by his great-granddaughters, Sydney and Carynne. It made me so sad to know that the only time my girls' names will be in the paper is when they're in the obituary section. I don't get to record track times and dance recitals and honor rolls. I get to be reminded that they preceded our entire families in death. I get to be reminded that all of my hopes and dreams for them were cut so very short.
Our therapist has been talking to us a lot about re-traumatizing ourselves by being in emotionally difficult situations. He suggested we not go to the funeral tomorrow. But, the re-traumatizing events are not nearly as difficult as the reminders that sneak up on me and take over when I least expect them. I didn't know that reading their names in that obituary would be as difficult as it was. I didn't know that I would sit at my desk and silently cry. I didn't know how fresh my pain would be again.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
A confession and a find
I have a horrible confession to make...after the girls passed away I took every medical record, every bill, every piece of paper relating to the last month of their lives and threw it in a box. It was so disorganized and clutter that I just left everything there, trying not to directly look at it, until one day last week. It was time to do taxes and I needed all of those medical bills, so I went through everything. Some finds were good, some were bad.
Like the piece of paper that I had written on when Dr. W. called to say they did find an abnormality on Carynne's 5th chromosome. He didn't go over any of the information or a diagnosis on the phone, he just told me that they had found something abnormal, and I wrote everything he said down so that I could start looking into it. A few days later we got the diagnosis. That piece of paper was hard to come across.
I also came across the bill from the funeral home. If the government had any compassion, they would allow you to write that off your taxes (note: I am not bashing the government, just saying I wish it could be written off). Oh well.
Mixed in this box of depression were a few nuggets of light. I found an envelope that had inadvertently landed in the box. It was 5 1/2 months older than the rest of the contents. It was an envelope I had used to track contractions one night while I was pregnant. Finding that envelope made me smile. It wasn't the night I went into labor, but I still remember what it was from. We had a meeting with our running club at the Aristocrat. I had been having contractions the whole night so I pulled out the first thing in my purse (an old envelope) and started tracking at the restaurant. They were about 5-7 minutes apart, but I wasn't alarmed because I was used to them. In fact, I don't believe I went into labor for at least another week. Of course, try convincing a jumpy husband and a bunch of beer drinkers that there's no cause for concern...reminds me that we have such sweet friends.
Another good find in this box was a receipt from the Julian Center. The Julian Center is the local domestic abuse shelter. About a month after the girls passed away, we took all of their formula and diapers down there to donate. The receipt confirmed donation of over $500 worth of baby stuff. We had A LOT of formula and diapers. Finding that reminded me that we have to continue to try and be good people. Try and live better lives for our girls.
Like the piece of paper that I had written on when Dr. W. called to say they did find an abnormality on Carynne's 5th chromosome. He didn't go over any of the information or a diagnosis on the phone, he just told me that they had found something abnormal, and I wrote everything he said down so that I could start looking into it. A few days later we got the diagnosis. That piece of paper was hard to come across.
I also came across the bill from the funeral home. If the government had any compassion, they would allow you to write that off your taxes (note: I am not bashing the government, just saying I wish it could be written off). Oh well.
Mixed in this box of depression were a few nuggets of light. I found an envelope that had inadvertently landed in the box. It was 5 1/2 months older than the rest of the contents. It was an envelope I had used to track contractions one night while I was pregnant. Finding that envelope made me smile. It wasn't the night I went into labor, but I still remember what it was from. We had a meeting with our running club at the Aristocrat. I had been having contractions the whole night so I pulled out the first thing in my purse (an old envelope) and started tracking at the restaurant. They were about 5-7 minutes apart, but I wasn't alarmed because I was used to them. In fact, I don't believe I went into labor for at least another week. Of course, try convincing a jumpy husband and a bunch of beer drinkers that there's no cause for concern...reminds me that we have such sweet friends.
Another good find in this box was a receipt from the Julian Center. The Julian Center is the local domestic abuse shelter. About a month after the girls passed away, we took all of their formula and diapers down there to donate. The receipt confirmed donation of over $500 worth of baby stuff. We had A LOT of formula and diapers. Finding that reminded me that we have to continue to try and be good people. Try and live better lives for our girls.
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