This Month

September 14 was the anniversary of losing the twins. The husband and I didn't even remember the day until I received an email from my mother saying she was thinking of us. Once I did remember, I did really remember and the husband and I had a few minutes of crying and being sad before we moved on with our day caring for Quinn, who is SUCH a joy these days.

But it did get me reflecting on loss and the ways it still can hold you. One aspect of losing twins is that...I lost twins. Two. The other day when husband and I were walking down the street, a twin stroller walked by us (with a mommy attached) and he squeezed my hand. I was all, "I'm okay now." And for the most part I am okay now. Working at pediatric practice means seeing twins all the time, and I "oohh and ahh" at the babies and work with those families and I am really fine.

I recently overheard someone ask a mom, "do twins run in your family?" The mom grimly replied, "They run in my fertility clinic." I KNOW that many of the twin mothers have had their own struggles towards having a family. Yet when I was told the story of an acquaintance recently pregnant with twins, I felt a stab of jealousy. Now I happen to know this woman and know that she has had a very hard time getting pregnant. I had become pregnant, lost my pregnancy, became pregnant again and had a baby, now 13 months old and just heard she was pregnant for the first time very recently. I have been told that all that time she and her husband were "trying," eventually in the form of multiple IVF attempts and that this pregnancy is the result of her most recent IVF attempt. It's just strange that I would feel jealous of her, knowing her struggles. How can I still can have those reactions for something I really feel like I've resolved--I mean, I cannot conceive of my life without Quinn and we are very happy these days. More than anything else, I think it is interesting how loss does still find ways to needle you. And that's what it is. Needling. Not overwhelming, not debilitating but just there to say "Hi!Ho! You thought you were done, but I like to rear my ugly head here and there!"

In a way, these reminders are good because they also reminds me to notice that life is going so well that I almost forgot the date of their anniversary, or that it takes something shown right before me (like my hearing of an acquaintance’s story) to notice that I still have feelings on the subject. Yes, overall everything is going very well and I hope it continues to stay that way, and I will continue to acknowledge that we did have a loss and that loss will still be a part of my life too.