Before I begin, I need to tell you that if you have e-mailed me, I have not responded because right now, I just can’t.  I have read every e-mail and every amazing comment that has been written to me and I want to respond to every single one individually, I just can not.  So, thank you to everyone that cares so much about me, thank you so much for loving me and for loving my babies.  Thank you for your care, your concern, your words, no matter what you said.  Thank you.  As far as the tattoo idea, I happen to love tattoos and will probably get one honoring J & J, and my friend, Amy, she will go with me to honor Lydia Grace.  She just doesn’t know, yet.

The post I wrote last night, well, there could have been so much more added to it.  I could have written all night long about the complexity of not only my feelings, but also my feelings on sharing my feelings on my blog and with people, in general.  It’s much more than feeling like I don’t have someone that I can just pick up the phone and call, it’s much more than that and right now, the right words explaining that escape me. 

I need to continue with what I was trying to convey in my post last night, I just do not where to begin.

Have you ever gotten really drunk and woke up the next day and thought "holy crap, did I really do that?"  And you wish you hadn’t?  Me either.  ahem. 

Well, that’s kinda how I felt about the post I wrote yesterday.  Except, I don’t necessarily REGRET what I wrote, but I do, in a way, regret what I wrote.  The only reason why I really do not regret it is that they were and are very real and true emotions of mine and it was eating me up and I HAD to release them.  The thing is, I don’t necessarily feel better about finally sharing my deep thoughts because I feel I may have hurt others and it’s my nature to run and try to protect my loved ones from anyone feeling hurt or inadequate and the thought that I may have caused someone to feel hurt or inadequate because of me?  Well, I can’t really stand the thought. 

But I keep saying to myself "that post was you.  you are you.  And that’s all there is to it.  You can not protect everyone."  And I hear myself saying those words and one side of me agrees and knows that it was the right thing to do and the other side tells me I’m selfish.

I do know it was the right thing to do.

So, if I hurt you, it was not my intent.  My intent was to share, my intent was to relate with other mothers who may feel the same as I, my intent was to make myself feel better, my intent was to let you know what it’s like on "the other side." 

I KNOW what it’s like to be the person who is involved with someone who is grieving and I SUCKED at it.  I DID.  I can admit, I just didn’t know.  I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know what to do, or how to act. I had no idea.  And that’s okay!

I realize that the people who I have not heard from, I am sure, they either have no idea what to say to me, or they just think I want or need space, and at first, that is what I needed.  I wanted to be left alone because I could not function, I was not ready for any type of social interaction.  But now that I am sorta ready and I have gone to dinners and meetings and group situations, it seems after that, perhaps, people felt that I was okay and there was no need to help "nurse" me back to a better emotional and mental state.

But like I said, and what I didn’t know and what I am still realizing is that grief does not just go away.  I cried harder last night than I did two weeks after losing James and Jake.  I don’t think it’s wrong that I cried and I know that you don’t either, it’s part of grieving, it’s continuous.  It changes constantly.  And so do I.

I’m realizing now that grief will not leave me and with that I feel like a calmer, better, person since losing James and Jake.  I don’t care as much about getting stopped at red lights, I don’t care about traffic jams or rain, I just don’t care.  And not just because I realize that I am not in control of all that I thought that I was, not just because I feel the fragility of life every single day, but because I think I understand more about people and feelings and emotions.  And maybe even life.

Because of James and Jake, I am a better mother, I try to be a better wife, daughter, sister and friend.  I even try to be a better stranger.  All because of these two little boys that left this earth much too early.  Even through sadness I can feel their importance, or perhaps, their purpose.

I can only hope that their "presence" grows stronger within me every single day.  I guess that’s how I will keep them with me, as their Mommy.  Just what I want to be.  I may not be able to make their beds for them or do their laundry or kiss their boo-boos, but I can be a better me.  For them.

Grief is such a fragile thing.  When one is grieving, people don’t know how to deal with you, they don’t know what’s right, what’s wrong.  People don’t know when to call or when not to call, when to stop sending cards, or when to send them.

I can say that I feel so alone, but when I do people say "YOU ARE NOT ALONE."  Except I am.

I’m alone and I feel it.  And it hurts.  I know everyone will tell me that they are here for me, and I think that’s great and it means so much except, usually, honestly, they are not here for me.  And when we are together, it’s just never the right time to be The Sad Me. 

And I don’t know what to do about it.  If I didn’t have this blog, I don’t know what I would do.  I don’t know what people do who don’t have a blog.  I can come here and vent my frustrations and try to express my deepest feelings and people can leave a comment and tell me they understand and they care and I read it and I see it and I feel it.

But mostly, when I shut my computer off, it’s not there.  I’m hesitant to write this because I don’t want people to think they have failed me in some way, it’s just a feeling I have, that I know is part of losing James and Jake and I have to deal with that.  But it’s so hard.

And some days are so good.  Some days I feel the love and support of many people, but lately, it’s not there.  I would be lying if I said it was there, there are people I used to hear from all of the time before losing the twins and I don’t any more.   Some people it’s been weeks since I’ve heard from them and I guess I’m surprised because I thought they needed me, too.  I guess I should be taking the next step, except I’m scared, too.  Because I’m different now.   After losing James and Jake, people told me "this is how you learn who your real friends are" and well, I heard it and I believed it, but I didn’t think I would lose anyone.

I know my friends have a strange disadvantage in that they can check in on me on my blog and see how I’m doing.  Except this blog represents a fraction of who I am and what I’m feeling.  In no way can it express everything I am feeling.

I’m afraid to call people and say "hey, how about dinner?" because I don’t want them to expect me to be the same old me, so I don’t call because I don’t want to disappoint people. 

Now I feel vulnerable.  I don’t know how to be me, I want to talk about what has happened because right now, it consumes me and it’s hard to get together with people and just have normal conversations, even though I love learning about people and hearing about their lives.

I’m consumed.  Grief, as I said, is so very fragile.  More than ever I don’t understand it, yet I understand it much more than I used to.  I’ve learned to never take more than two steps away from someone, I have learned to talk to people about their loss and their new life without the person they lost.  I’ve learned to call and leave voicemails, I’ve learned to never ask the person to call me back, I’ve learned to just say I am thinking of you and my heart hurts for you and I know that that is just what that person may need for that day.  That could be the thing that gets them through their day.  There is so much to know and so much to learn and life is so complicated.

And yet, all I need is an ear.  All I need is to have that someone that can sit with me and cry with me and understand me and love me and not judge me.  I don’t want that person to be someone I have to pay $55 for forty-five minutes.  I NEED SOMETHING AND IT’S NOT THERE.  It’s not fucking there and I can’t stand any more.  How much can a person take?  I don’t know.  I see others who have lost, I see their strength and their growth and I can’t imagine that I could be that strong, but I’ll try.  I really try.

Something is missing.  Yesterday, on Memorial Day, marked three months since I delivered James and Jake.  I have this intense desire to include them in our lives in some way.  I can’t have them here in the capacity that I want them or need them, so I need them here in some other form.  I need to know they are with me because I truly can’t go the rest of my life not feeling them.  I can’t do it.   All I want is to be their Mommy.  THAT’S ALL.

Three months.  Three of the hardest months of my life.  I know I’m going to be okay, and right now, as I sit with tears streaming endlessly down my face, I BELIEVE that they are with me.  At least I think I do.  That belief is all I have of them and it’s hard to let it go.

I never thought I could feel this incredible range of emotion that I feel now.  I feel happy, I feel sad, I feel anger, I feel content, I feel despair, I feel joy, I feel empty, I feel full.  And sometimes I feel very, very alone.

And that makes so very sad.

I find it important to say that I’m not angry at anyone.  I’m disappointed, maybe, but I understand.  Situations and relationships with grief intertwined are so complicated, I know this and I understand.  I truly understand.

I know there are people reading this, my family, my friends, people whom I have never met, that would do anything to make the pain go away, and I know who you are, and I thank you.

I realize that many people may not say anything to me because they fear they may say the wrong thing.  I understand that, too.  But another thing I have learned is that something is better than nothing.  In a strange way, I feel lucky to have learned that lesson.  Does that make any sense?