We finally went to look at gravestones today. I'm not even sure I can put into words what I am feeling. Picking out a gravestone for a baby is just wrong. I've been putting it off for weeks now, maybe even months. I don't think there's any chance we'll have something ordered in time for the first anniversary.

Approaching the one year anniversary

I was really disappointed with my son's funeral. I felt like I let him down and was in no shape to do any of the planning. I was recovering from both a vaginal birth and a c-section, my daughter was still in the NICU, I had just spent 5 weeks in the hospital and my older daughter was in desperate need of my attention. I promised myself that I would make up for all the shortcomings of the funeral with the one anniversary. Jewish tradtion dictates that a grave marker be placed shortly before the one year annversary. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to remember him and do what I wasn't able to for the funeral. Except that we are now 8 weeks out and I haven't done anything. This is causing me extreme guilt, but I can't seem to start planning.

Fear...

One distinct change since losing my son is that I seem to live in fear. Fear of something bad happening to my daughters. It's a horrible feeling. I can't seem to shake it. I know we all worry about our children to some degree, but sometimes this feels, I don't know, stifling, overwhelming. Every time I put the baby to sleep I want to check and make sure she's breathing. If my older one has a cold, I go a little crazy. Is the baby going to catch it, is it going to turn into something worse, are we going to have to go to the hospital? I just want to feel "normal" again. Not worry all the time. Some days, I just want to wrap the girls up and protect them from the world. Yes, intellectually I know that it's not possible. I do let them go out. My older daughter goes to preschool, goes on play dates, climbs to the top of the climbing apparatus at the park. I get out of the house without them sometimes. But what I guess I want back (in addition to my son) is my innocence. You know, that ability to believe that everything is going to be ok. That if I'm a good person, live a good, moral life, than bad things won't happen to me.

My first post.

I'm not really sure what my plan is for this blog. My surviving twin is an amazing, adorable, beautiful, 9 months old girl. We lost her brother on April 28, 2008 when I was 31 weeks pregnant. I delivered my stillborn son a week and half later. That was without a doubt the worst day of my life. My daugther was born 5 days after her brother at 33 weeks gestation. Remarkably she only had to spend 8 days in the NICU, I on the otherhand spent 5 weeks in the hospital on the antepartum ward. That in and of itself was agony because not only was I watching my son slip away I had a 4 year old at home that I had never even spent one night away from before this. I guess if I have any goals for this blog it's to help me heal and maybe let some other women out there know that they are not alone in this journey.