Two Years

Today marked two years since this day.

July 11th 2008 (the day we found out Vivian and Annemarie were no longer alive) and July 12th 2008 (the day they were born) are the two most difficult days of my life.

Everything since then has been different. My life changed on those days. There is no going back. Sometimes I think about the person I was on the morning of July 11th and the person I am now...and it's like those two people might look alike...but they are not the same person. Not at all.

It's complicated, of course. We celebrate the lives of our girls...the brief and short time they were here on Earth. We miss them. We cherish them. We are glad and feel so blessed that they were in our lives and that we have the hope of seeing them again in Heaven.

But, of course, we are devastated. Still. Even two years later. The grief changes, but it does not go away. We are learning to live with that.

Today was a day of remembrance. And just being together. We had a packed day...and just enjoyed the moment. The present. And although we wished with our whole hearts that V&A were here to celebrate with us, we know that one day we will meet them again.

We started off the day with balloons...



and flowers...



...and a special Mother's Day present that Mr. Mustard had been waiting to give me since Mother's Day back in May.

They were a beautiful pair of earrings. When I went to put them on, I realized that one of my ears was no longer pierced. What can I say, it's been a long time since I've worn earrings. But I really wanted to wear the earrings.

So...I pierced my ear. It kinda hurt. Ouch.



Then we went back to the Aquarium. It is really peaceful there. It's hard to feel sad when you're looking at sea lions.



Truly.



We stayed at the Aquarium, and then went to the harbor and watched the boats come in and out. Then, we took Paprika to ballet class (we didn't want her to miss it- it's the highlight of her week). After that, we went out to dinner at our favorite restaurant.



After that, we went to the beach and released balloons.



It was an amazing day. I only wish that Vivian and Annemarie had been here to spend it with us. I hope that they had a good view from Heaven. I miss them so very much today and every day.

On The Wings Of Butterflies

(My friend Carly made this photo in remembrance of Vivian and Annemarie. I am so in love with it.)

On Monday (July 12th), it will be 2 years since we said goodbye to Vivian and Annemarie. Two Years. It really doesn't seem like that long ago.

Last year when the anniversary came, I was so caught up in Ginger's birth that it didn't hit me like it's hitting me right now. I have to admit, I have been so sad the past few weeks. Just a big mess of grief.

July is supposed to be the highlight of the year- a month full of picnics, fireworks, and summer. It used to be my very favorite month of all. And yet, I still haven't turned the calendar from June. I am not ready for it to be July.

Last night I went through my memory chest with all of Vivian and Annemarie's things. I cried harder than I have cried in a long time. Grief is hard, and I don't know how to make it easier. I think it's one of those things you just have to endure.

The thing that made me happier - what cheered me up in the midst of my big cry-fest last night - was reading through all the cards and letters sent to me from friends, family, and acquaintances- both near and far. I have scrapbooked every single card or letter anyone has ever written me about the girls, and I have them all bound in three glittery butterfly scrapbooks. Even two years later, I feel this upswell of love and support when I read through all of those letters and cards. It was amazing to have that last night. It helped me so much, and brought me back to a place of healing.

I also sat for a long time with the gifts that people have made for me for the girls: Little hats and stuffed animals. Beautiful blankets. The special quilt that a group of friends made for me, each making their own square in remembrance. Ribbons from flowers people sent. Little notes attached to meals that were dropped by. Potted plants that are still growing and thriving to this day...well, most of them are still growing. I really do have a black thumb when it comes to plants. ;-)

Since we said goodbye, many people have asked me what was most helpful during a time of loss and grief. For me, it really was knowing that others cared about us, about our girls, and that they took the time to write a little note or card, or just reach out in some way. Two years later, those cards and letters and the little mementos are priceless to me...they mean so much still.

I wish I were in a better place with my grief this year. I am being gentle with myself and letting myself just feel the feelings as they come- not judge them- just be present with them. I have vowed not to let myself eat emotionally (when I can help myself)- so this year I am not going to drown myself in a sea of dark chocolate. I am working on that part of me, and it's going pretty well...but that is a post for another day! ;-)

I am preparing myself to be an emotional basketcase next Monday, just in case anyone's wondering. I would like to be in a spot to put a pretty bow on my grief, but grief is seldom pretty or easy. Real? Yes. Hard? Definitely. But never pretty.

Each and every day, I wish that they were here. I still think of them as my daughters, and every night I don't get to sing them to sleep, I am sad about it. I guess it's just one of those things that I'm learning to live with...I'm learning to keep going and moving, smiling, laughing, and learning to live without them, even when it seems like the hardest thing on earth to do...

The Real Gift

Today is Mother's Day. It's a day that is bittersweet for many, blissfully happy for a few, and really sad for others. Hallmark would have you think that it's all flowers and chocolates and happiness but for so many, it's not.



This Mother's Day, I am happy. I am happy for so many reasons. I am grateful for that I get to wake up to the faces of two of my children every day. They are such a gift. I never forget that.

Every single day, I remember how much I love them and how much I wanted them. I don't need breakfast in bed or flowers or even a card. I am happy...more than happy...just to have them, just as they are. I'm not saying they're perfect. But they are perfect to me.



This time last year I didn't know if Ginger would be born alive. My whole pregnancy with her, I hoped and prayed I'd get to see her sweet face, kiss her soft skin, and listen to her laugh. Getting to spend this year with her has been a gift- more than I ever could have hoped or wished for...she really is my dream come true.



Of course, I am thinking about Vivian and Annemarie today. Whenever I post something about them, invariably someone will email me and talk about how sad I sound. And the truth is...I am sad sometimes. I walk through grief, and it's okay to be sad. You can be happy and sad all at the same time. I still miss Vivian and Annemarie, and I suspect I always will. I will always wish for them to be here by my side.

But even though they are gone, I am still their mom. I am still a mother to my girls in Heaven. And if people don't "get" that, or they think it's morbid or whatever...I couldn't give a hoot. They will always be my daughters. And I'm always going to love them. Period.



Yesterday, Paprika watched Disney's original animated Alice In Wonderland for the first time on DVD. She loved it so much, and next thing I knew, she had whipped up THIS outfit. This is her "Alice In Wonderland" outfit. I don't know if anyone else can see the resemblance, but I do.

I am impressed at how she made this costume out of clothes she has- one of her favorite dresses (from Mimi and PopPop), her ballet tights, her tap shoes, a headband, and an old bag we had laying around as the apron.

I know it's a silly thing, but it was one of those ordinary moments that is a gift of motherhood. Watching your child grow and be creative, and funny, and silly...these are moments I don't ever take for granted. Ever.



For all the moms who have lost children, the moms who have lost their only children, and the women who want to be moms but can't be due to infertility or life's circumstances...I just want to give you all a big hug today and let you know that I am thinking of you. I don't say that lightly. I am heartbroken for you all, and hope that this upcoming year brings healing, hope, and happiness.

Last year at Mother's Day, I was so sad. This past year has brought so much healing, and although things aren't all better, and won't ever be all better (how can they be, really?)...I am definitely in a better place than I was last Mother's Day. And that's progress...

Mother's Day will always be bittersweet for me. I am grateful to be celebrating all my children (even the ones in Heaven) and even if there are no presents to open, flowers, or cards for me today, it's okay by me. I am happy this year and grateful, just so grateful for another year of being able to wake up and have someone call me "Mom" - it truly is the best gift of all.

A Different Life

I've been thinking a lot about Vivian and Annemarie lately. Not more than usual...but not less than usual either. Okay, that made no sense!

Today is the 21 month anniversary of their stillbirth, and in some ways that seems like a very long time ago, and in some ways it seems like a moment ago.

I find I am much less angry now than I used to be. But I am still sad, and I still wish that they were here, and I still think about them every single day.

Last week I was at Target and I caught sight of this woman in the store with her big orange double BOB stroller (the same stroller I have). When I see someone with a double stroller, I always look to see if it's twins, and there they were, identical girls about 21 months old. The woman looked almost exactly like I do. Same hair, same style of clothes, same height. She could be my body double, or vice versa.

I looked at her and thought about how different my life would have been if Vivian and Annemarie were still alive.

I also thought about how 20 months ago, I might have collapsed on the floor of Target and started sobbing hysterically, the way I did in the elevator at The Gap on Michigan Avenue in Chicago just weeks after they died.

I thought about how 15 months ago, I would have been so angry. At her, at the situation, at God.

But on this day last week, I just observed her. I didn't cry about it, or feel sorry for myself. I was happy for her. Sad for me. Happy for her.

In some ways, I know I'm healing. I mean, I have to...it's the only choice I've got. I have too much to live for to not move forward.



When we moved into our new house a month ago, I met my next-door neighbor and she said, "You're going to love this block. There are lots of kids. I have twins, so and so has twins, oh, and the people three doors down have twins...I guess this block is the block of twins."

I just kind of wagged my head. Really? Did I have to move all the way across Los Angeles just to live next door to twins?

Last week, I was taking Paprika and Ginger for a walk around the block, and I met one of the other neighbors with twins. She introduced herself and told me that she had 20 month old twins...exactly the same age Vivian and Annemarie would be.

It caught me off-guard because I thought her twins were older, and the fact that they're the same age...it just changes things. Now whenever I'm in my backyard and I hear those kids playing, I think about Vivian and Annemarie and wish they were outside playing, too.

I keep running into this mom and she constantly reminds me that she has twins...and I think that's because she wants me to give the standard twin reaction- which is "OMG, you have twins! How amazing/crazy/cool/stressful!!! Do twins run in your family?!"

But I haven't reacted that way, and I haven't told her our story either. Don't get me wrong, I am nice to her. I just don't dwell on the fact that she has twins and rave over how awesome and special it must be.

The truth is, I'm not sure what to share with people anymore. I don't walk up to people and tell them that I graduated from a top law school and that I was on law review. Or that I've written two books. I don't tell them that Mr. Mustard has won two Emmy's and about all his other amazing accomplishments in the world of television and film (even though I am immensely proud of him).

Point being, I don't go into the intricacies of many parts of our life. But it feels weird not to talk about our twins, especially to another mom and to someone who keeps talking about her twins. But at the same time, when I do bring them up, a lot of times people don't know what to say and I end up feeling worse after the conversation.

Sometimes I imagine a different life where I met Devon at the Mom's of Multiples club instead of at Grief Group. I imagine strolling down to this woman's house with my "wouldn't you know it, our twins are exactly the same age" story and having coffee with her.

But, that's not my life.

I feel sometimes who I was prior to July 12th died, and a new me emerged at the same time.

Paprika and I were looking through old photos tonight...the ones from when she was Ginger's age, and I don't really recognize myself. Sure, I look the same but I'm not the same.

The new me is still happy. I am still excited by what life has to offer in the future. But the girl in those old pictures has no idea what's coming next. I like that girl...but she's not me anymore.

Anyway...just feeling reflective tonight. Grief has changed me in a lot of ways. Made me more patient, for sure. Less perfectionistic. Less concerned with what other people think of me. More expressive. More forgiving.

But even with these gifts, I still miss Vivian and Annemarie and often wonder what might have been. I'm not going to slide down the looking glass chasing a dream that won't ever happen, but I still miss them and honor them and wish they were here playing in the backyard with their sisters.

A Very Important Day!

Well, I realize that it probably seems like I've fallen off the face of the Earth. And I kinda have. The move ended up being much more stressful than I anticipated, and we didn't get internet until last night. I've been going and going and going this past week. We did the move ourselves with a U-Haul, and man...now I understand why movers get paid so much! It was rough. We are still catching our breaths here, and I haven't showered or changed clothes in...oh, about a week. Can you tell? Wait, don't answer that!



But even so, today was a special day...the kind of day when it's important to stop and reflect and honor life...two lives to be precise. Today is the birthday of two special boys, Blake and Ethan, who are very near and dear to my heart, even though I've never met them.

Paprika, Ginger, and I met up with Devon and Rob and their two girls at Disneyland today to honor the lives of Blake and Ethan. It was a great day, a wonderful break from all the day-to-day drama that's been going on around here. We rode new rides, and watched the girls play together without a care in the world.

It was a special day, and I'm glad we stopped to honor what's important. Please stop by Devon's blog and let her know you're thinking about her and her boys today...

I imagine her boys in Heaven with my twin girls, and hope they all had a great big birthday celebration today for Blake and Ethan. I'm not sure if that's how it works, but I sure hope it is.

Life In 3D

This picture of Ginger reminds me so much of those 3D/4D ultrasound pictures. You know, the ones where the baby's face is impossibly cute and scrunchy? We had a 3D/4D ultrasound with Ginger at our perinatologist's office when I was 20 weeks pregnant, but I was too worried at the time to ask for photos from our session. Plus at 20 weeks they don't look quite so scrunchy.

If you recall, ultrasounds were not a fun thing for me during Ginger's pregnancy. Although they were necessary, and I had a gazillion of them, I never did enjoy them. Our final ultrasound with Vivian and Annemarie (when we found out they had both passed away in utero), pretty much sealed the deal on ultrasounds never being a fun thing.

So, yesterday when I snapped this picture of Ginger, snuggled up so tight and close to Mr. Mustard, I got the warm feeling: this is probably what she looked like inside of me not too long ago. She was the same baby then as she is now. She was the same baby when I was 20 weeks pregnant, 30 weeks pregnant, at three months old, and now at almost eight months old. She has always been who she is, as God created her.

Seeing Ginger like this made me miss our twins, the ones who I will never watch blow out their first birthday candles. Who I will never send off to college. Or fix their veils on their wedding days. I had seven ultrasounds with Vivian and Annemarie. Seven times when I saw them alive. Seven photographs of them alive. A few videos. I feel lucky to have those memories. But, I miss the chance to be with them. To kiss their soft peach fuzz. To listen to them laugh. Even to listen to them cry. I just miss them.

Life does go on, and I find myself here...two years after their conception. Two years after they came to earth, came into my body, and came into our hearts. Life has changed so much in those two years. For good. For bad. For better or worse.

As I hold Ginger, I think of her sisters she will never meet this side of Heaven. Of what they would be doing now, and how my heart aches for them, and for Ginger and Paprika to know them.

Life goes on, and I am getting on with it. I'm still moving forward, and still living life as happily and fully as I can. I'm enjoying each day to the fullest, because I know that our tomorrows are not promised to us.

Thinking of my sweet angels tonight and wishing they were here...

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas!

I think this is the first year we haven't started wrapping presents the night before Christmas at one in the morning. This year we've already decorated, wrapped presents, hung the stockings...now we're just waiting for the big day.

I find myself feeling much more joyful this Christmas than last. Last year I didn't even want to celebrate Christmas at all. I just wanted it to go away. Paprika was really too young to "get it" and all I could think about was how our twin girls were supposed to be celebrating their first Christmas with us. Honestly, I don't even remember much of last Christmas. I put on a happy face and just went through the motions.

This Christmas I feel encouraged, hopeful, and better...not entirely better...but more filled with the Christmas spirit. In truth, after losing Vivian and Annemarie I don't know if I will ever not be at least a little sad at Christmas. I wonder what they would be doing this year, and how big they'd be. I don't think it's something you can ever really get over. But at the same time, I can't change them not being here, and this is our reality. So, I have to make the best of it and be happy with our lives now and not what our lives would have been had TTTS not taken the lives of Vivian and Annemarie.

It's a delicate balance and most days I just try to focus on the positive and what we do have. Some days it is harder than others, of course. This Christmas, I still miss Vivian and Annemarie. I still wonder what would have been. But I am glad that I have things to celebrate, and that this year I can be more festive. That gives me hope that each year will get a little easier without them here. I hope that as the years go on, I can reach out to others who are hurting, and each year I can better focus on the true reason we celebrate Christmas.

365 Goal!

If you look over at the blog archive on the right hand side of the screen and at the number in parentheses next to 2009, you will see that today it says 365.

Yup, this is my 365th post for this year.

I made it my goal at the beginning of 2009 to do 365 posts in a year - about one per day. For me, it was an exercise in focusing on the positive parts of my life. About enjoying motherhood and family life every day...even when I didn't feel like it because I was incredibly grief-stricken over the loss of our twins, Vivian and Annemarie.

I've heard it said that one of the surest ways to be happy is to practice happiness. Just as the surest way to be kind is to practice kindness. The truth is that after a year of focusing on all the good in our family, and all of the wonderful yummy experiences we've shared this year, I do feel a lot better about our lives and where we're headed.

I still have very hard days when I miss our twin daughters and wonder what life would be with them here. But more and more I am finding ways to live in the light and appreciate the good we have right now in our little family.

It is easy to focus on the deficits and what is wrong. But it is so much more affirming and life-changing to focus on what is right. Our lives are not always rosy-perfect, but each day I can find something to be joyful for...something to appreciate...something that fills my heart with gratitude.

If nothing else, I have accomplished my little 365 goal. And that makes me smile!

A Beautiful Gift!

Today I received such a beautiful gift from my friend Sarah in this lovely photograph that she made in memory of Vivian and Annemarie. I am so happy to know that Vivian and Annemarie are remembered by our friends and family- and that even though they are no longer with us, that they live on in our hearts.

I think one of my biggest fears is that people will forget Vivian and Annemarie, and that especially once our newest baby is born, that it will be as if we never had twin daughters. Of course, I know it's silly to think like that. Mr. Mustard and I will always remember and the people who mean the most to us will also always hold all our children close in their hearts.

Happy tears for this beautiful gift- oh how I cherish it!

March of Dimes Walk

Today, Paprika and I woke up bright and early (5:30am) and made the long trek to Simi Valley to support our friends, Devon and Rob, in their March of Dimes Walk for Babies. They were walking on behalf of their daughter, Riley, who was born at 29 weeks and is now a thriving 2 1/2 year old (she was born 7 days before Paprika), and on behalf of their twin sons, Blake and Ethan, who were born at 23 weeks last March and lived for just a few days.



I did not walk, of course! I had a hard time getting from the car to the picinic area! But I wanted to go and show my support, so we went to cheer everyone on.

Paprika had a great time until the very end...when she had the biggest meltdown on Planet Earth. I think everyone in the crowd was looking at me thinking, "At least I'm not that mom!" So, we had to make a quick exit. As soon as I got Paprika in the car, she fell fast asleep and when she woke up it was as if nothing had happened!

It was wonderful to be part of such an important event, and to be surrounded by Devon's friends and family. I hope that we get invited back next year!

Disneyland Bricks!

Yesterday while I was at my doctor's appointment, Mr. Mustard and Paprika had a Father/Daughter day at The Happiest Place on Earth, Disneyland!

They were so excited to see that our Memorial Brick for Vivian and Annemarie had been installed! Although we won't be able to take Vivian and Annemarie to Disneyland, it makes me smile to know that each time we go, we will have a little reminder of them at the entrance. And of course, they are always with us in spirit and in our hearts

Vivian and Annemarie's brick is in a very special place. It's right next to Blake and Ethan's memorial brick, which was also just installed. How cool is that?!

I am so happy that we have this brick for Vivian and Annemarie. Each time we go to Disneyland we can stop and remember them before we walk through the entrance. I miss them so much, and memorials like this make my heart feel a little lighter. I hope Annemarie and Vivian know how much we love them, and that even though we are on this side of Heaven, we think about them all the time and that they live on in our hearts.

New Baby Update

I am now 24 weeks, 3 days pregnant with the newest Urth. At this point, the baby has about a 60% chance of survival if born right now. Next week, the likelihood of survival goes up to 80%, and the following week, 88%. By 29 weeks, 99% of babies born survive.

Of course, in our world, statistics are pretty meaningless. Our "luck" so far has been pretty incredible- natural identical twins, and then both of them dying of TTTS. Those odds are very slim. I've found that once you've been on the wrong side of a statistic, statistics don't hold much water anymore.

Our biggest concern is that the baby will pass away in utero, like Vivian and Annemarie did, and then there is nothing we can do.

I haven't written much about this pregnancy, not because I am not excited, because I am very excited, but because I am scared out of my mind. Everyone tells me to relax and "think positive"- I did that with Vivian and Annemarie, too. So, I don't think that makes a difference.

I honestly don't know what we will do if this baby does not survive. It's hard to think about. The anxiety of this pregnancy is overwhelming. I am trying so hard to be a great mom to Paprika, but also trying to "take it easy"- and everytime I overextend myself even a little bit, I wonder, "Is that it? Is the baby gone now?"

We have about 14 weeks left til I'll be induced. I can't tell you how slowly this pregnancy is going. I really can't remember not being pregnant. I was pregnant for a short time with the baby I miscarried, then immediately afterwards became pregnant with Vivian and Annemarie, and then recovered for 8 weeks, and then became pregnant again. I don't feel like "myself" at all- I feel like a perpetual baby gestater who never gets to bring home a baby.

I am, of course, feeling all the regular physical pregnancy-related aches and pains. I am big, and resemble a whale. Which is pretty appropriate, because a whale gestates for 13 months, and I've been pregnant longer than that already! ;-)

But really what's so much harder is the mental part of being pregnant this time. Thinking about the "what-ifs" and trying to stay positive, but also knowing all of the things that can go wrong. I started a support group a few months ago for women who have lost babies, and it's been wonderfully supportive and I'm so glad I did it- but man, now I really do know each and every way you can lose a child!

We are really happy and excited about Urth Baby #5. But we also know there are absolutely no guarantees since I know what it's like to spend 18 hours in labor and go home empty-handed. Still, we are very hopeful.

I'm going to try to write more about my pregnancy, and enjoy it more. I wish I could go back to the innocence I had when I was pregnant with Paprika. I just don't know how to get back to that place...working on it.

Today's Gift

Today was the 6 month anniversary of the day of Vivian and Annemarie's birth. On that day, Mr. Mustard and I experienced the hardest, most difficult day of our lives when we lost both our baby girls. They are always in our hearts and in our thoughts, and we walk through each day with the feeling that someone is missing, because they are missing. They are our second and third born daughters, and always will be. We miss them every day, but days like today are the hardest- the anniversary days.

But even though today was very hard, it was also a wonderful day. We are expecting another blessing and today we saw our beautiful little baby waving to us on the ultrasound screen.

We are excited, we are nervous, we are holding our breaths. This baby is a joyful ray of hope in what has been a very difficult year for our family. We rejoice in this baby, but we know that we are not replacing our Vivian and Annemarie- we are giving all of our girls another sibling. We know that one day our family will be reunited in Heaven, and on that day, we will see all of our children playing together.

We have a long journey ahead of us in this pregnancy. We know that nothing is guaranteed, and that what is given can also be taken away in a moment. We cherish life, and we respect it. We feel so blessed to have had 17 wonderful weeks so far with this baby, and we hope and pray that our time together is long and filled with laughter and love.

Without futher ado, we're so happy to introduce Paprika, Vivian, and Annemarie's littlest sibling!

17 weeks old:

Balloon Release

Tomorrow, December 7th, is Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome Awareness Day. Our girls are always, always on our minds- but even more so right now.

Today we did a balloon release for Vivian and Annemarie at our park. We bought three balloons- two to release for Vivian and Annemarie, and one for Paprika to keep. We released the balloons separately. Mr. Mustard let Vivian's go and I released Annemarie's balloon. I thought the balloons would drift off their separate ways, but they stayed together and floated up, up, up into the sky until I could no longer see them. We watched them until they were tiny pink dots and then they were so small they slipped out of sight.

I know the girls can feel our love for them and that they know how much we miss them.