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?
Oh beth I’m so so very sorry that you have to go through this. Grief is a very tricky emotion – I think people avoid it because it makes them feel helpless to see it, feel it and be unable to take it away or do something about it.
You are, and always will be, the boys’ mother – don’t ever think otherwise.
Someone told me once that “you will never be the same you after this. But you can be better.” Meaning that through all your suffering and struggling you will understand things in a way other people who’s lives are untouched by loss will. It will allow you what to say and do in difficult situations. I know thats probably not what you want to hear (it wasn’t at the time I heard it either) but how else better to honour James and Jake than to love and understand?
Sending you loads of love…
Oh beth I’m so so very sorry that you have to go through this. Grief is a very tricky emotion – I think people avoid it because it makes them feel helpless to see it, feel it and be unable to take it away or do something about it.
You are, and always will be, the boys’ mother – don’t ever think otherwise.
Someone told me once that “you will never be the same you after this. But you can be better.” Meaning that through all your suffering and struggling you will understand things in a way other people who’s lives are untouched by loss will. It will allow you what to say and do in difficult situations. I know thats probably not what you want to hear (it wasn’t at the time I heard it either) but how else better to honour James and Jake than to love and understand?
Sending you loads of love…
Hugs to you, Beth. You, Brian and the kiddos are in my prayers. Daily.
Hugs to you, Beth. You, Brian and the kiddos are in my prayers. Daily.
I felt like I was sitting with you listening as I read your post. I could really get your sadness but I still truly can’t even imagine how lonely you must feel while missing James & Jake SO MUCH. Remember, if you ever want to give me an early Christmas present…well, you know what to do.
Oh, and I love the tattoo idea.
I felt like I was sitting with you listening as I read your post. I could really get your sadness but I still truly can’t even imagine how lonely you must feel while missing James & Jake SO MUCH. Remember, if you ever want to give me an early Christmas present…well, you know what to do.
Oh, and I love the tattoo idea.
Hold tight Beth…feel the arms of Jesus and those beautiful baby boys!! They will never leave you!! All of my heart..kim
Hold tight Beth…feel the arms of Jesus and those beautiful baby boys!! They will never leave you!! All of my heart..kim
Oh Beth…. I wish I knew what to say. I guess that’s the problem…I don’t know what to say so I don’t say it. I wish you didn’t feel so lonely and sad all the time. You are loved by so many people but I am sure it doesn’t feel that way very often. You are an amazing person and I feel privileged to know you. Stay strong!!
Oh Beth…. I wish I knew what to say. I guess that’s the problem…I don’t know what to say so I don’t say it. I wish you didn’t feel so lonely and sad all the time. You are loved by so many people but I am sure it doesn’t feel that way very often. You are an amazing person and I feel privileged to know you. Stay strong!!
Beth,
You are right, not many people are comfortable talking with others about their grief for fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. A good friend who has been through a similar situation once told me that the best thing to say is that you are so very sorry for their loss. So, I am so so sorry for your loss and I wanted to tell you that you are in my prayers.
Beth,
You are right, not many people are comfortable talking with others about their grief for fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. A good friend who has been through a similar situation once told me that the best thing to say is that you are so very sorry for their loss. So, I am so so sorry for your loss and I wanted to tell you that you are in my prayers.
Delurking to say that you have been and will continue to be in my prayers as you deal with the horrible loss of your sons. Tonight I’m praying for your friends and family, that they would find the courage to brave the sadness with you, and the strength to be there with you and to love you – as you are. As someone who has been on that side of things, it’s definitely hard to know what to say, but you are so right…saying ANYTHING is better than saying nothing, and I hope that those closest to you find the strength to continue being there for you in whatever way you need, for as long as it takes!!
Delurking to say that you have been and will continue to be in my prayers as you deal with the horrible loss of your sons. Tonight I’m praying for your friends and family, that they would find the courage to brave the sadness with you, and the strength to be there with you and to love you – as you are. As someone who has been on that side of things, it’s definitely hard to know what to say, but you are so right…saying ANYTHING is better than saying nothing, and I hope that those closest to you find the strength to continue being there for you in whatever way you need, for as long as it takes!!
Hugs to you, and know that I keep you in my thoughts.
Hugs to you, and know that I keep you in my thoughts.
I love you. I am so taking you to Coldstone next year when I am near you. It’s no help, but it would make me feel like I was doing “something”.
Hugs!!
I love you. I am so taking you to Coldstone next year when I am near you. It’s no help, but it would make me feel like I was doing “something”.
Hugs!!
Hugs and prayers.
Hugs and prayers.
I wish there was something, anything that I or anyone could do to make you feel closer to your boys. All I can do is think about you and pray that peace and a new normal someday find you.
It blows me away that you have lost contact with some friends, I never would have imagined a friend would let them happen to another friend in your situation. It’s sad, but it is what it is. Don’t let others actions affect you. Easier said than done, I know. Hang in there, Beth.
I wish there was something, anything that I or anyone could do to make you feel closer to your boys. All I can do is think about you and pray that peace and a new normal someday find you.
It blows me away that you have lost contact with some friends, I never would have imagined a friend would let them happen to another friend in your situation. It’s sad, but it is what it is. Don’t let others actions affect you. Easier said than done, I know. Hang in there, Beth.
My beautiful friend, Beth…you are SO real, raw and broken. You are slowly, but steadily, getting put back together. You are not the same fantastic display you were before. You are much more unique and special and there is such a story behind this new, pieced together you. Every little chip or discrepancy means something…a battle scar, a sweet memory of your babies, the many tears shed, a laugh or grin that has escaped amidst those tears, a deep conversation with a friend or family member, explaining heaven to your kids, a tender moment with Brian, loneliness, unconditional love, pain–the uniqueness of YOU and what you have experienced and felt. You are one-of-a-kind. And I know you want that original Beth back, but we, and God, embrace who you are now. And we’re not going to stop wrapping our virtual (and some physical) arms around you until you say “uncle.”
Do you have any plans Saturday night or Sunday afternoon/evening? I could meet you in M.ville if you would like. I know it’s long overdue that we get together. I’m sorry if I have let you down, Beth. I SO want to spend time with you and be that listening ear and shoulder to cry on that you need. Please let me know.
Oh, and this mention of a tattoo…hmmm. I have NEVER considered getting a tattoo in my life (can you picture it? NO!), but this idea is piquing my interest a little. Wow, we could go get tattoos to remember our babies together. Okay, I need to think and pray on that first though.
I am thinking of you and my heart hurts for you…today and always.
My beautiful friend, Beth…you are SO real, raw and broken. You are slowly, but steadily, getting put back together. You are not the same fantastic display you were before. You are much more unique and special and there is such a story behind this new, pieced together you. Every little chip or discrepancy means something…a battle scar, a sweet memory of your babies, the many tears shed, a laugh or grin that has escaped amidst those tears, a deep conversation with a friend or family member, explaining heaven to your kids, a tender moment with Brian, loneliness, unconditional love, pain–the uniqueness of YOU and what you have experienced and felt. You are one-of-a-kind. And I know you want that original Beth back, but we, and God, embrace who you are now. And we’re not going to stop wrapping our virtual (and some physical) arms around you until you say “uncle.”
Do you have any plans Saturday night or Sunday afternoon/evening? I could meet you in M.ville if you would like. I know it’s long overdue that we get together. I’m sorry if I have let you down, Beth. I SO want to spend time with you and be that listening ear and shoulder to cry on that you need. Please let me know.
Oh, and this mention of a tattoo…hmmm. I have NEVER considered getting a tattoo in my life (can you picture it? NO!), but this idea is piquing my interest a little. Wow, we could go get tattoos to remember our babies together. Okay, I need to think and pray on that first though.
I am thinking of you and my heart hurts for you…today and always.
Hi Beth,
I can’t offer much. I can’t understand how you feel because I’ve never experienced anything close to what you’re going through right now. I can’t come over – anytime – and let you cry on my shoulder. I would if I could, but I can’t. All I can offer is that you are in my thoughts and prayers – I offer it whole-heartedly. All I can offer is my own personal testimony that the Savior has experienced everything we ever have or will and that is what makes Him such a perfect Comforter. It is a knowledge I’ve struggled to find, but it is firmly mine and I offer it to you.
Love,
Julie
Hi Beth,
I can’t offer much. I can’t understand how you feel because I’ve never experienced anything close to what you’re going through right now. I can’t come over – anytime – and let you cry on my shoulder. I would if I could, but I can’t. All I can offer is that you are in my thoughts and prayers – I offer it whole-heartedly. All I can offer is my own personal testimony that the Savior has experienced everything we ever have or will and that is what makes Him such a perfect Comforter. It is a knowledge I’ve struggled to find, but it is firmly mine and I offer it to you.
Love,
Julie
Ever since I came across your blog I have been praying for you and crying for your loss. It breaks my heart.
My dad always says that when people go through a tragedy of some sort you don’t need to avoid them out of fear of saying the wrong thing. He says they probably won’t remember what was said… but they will remember WHO was there for them.
I am here for you.
Ever since I came across your blog I have been praying for you and crying for your loss. It breaks my heart.
My dad always says that when people go through a tragedy of some sort you don’t need to avoid them out of fear of saying the wrong thing. He says they probably won’t remember what was said… but they will remember WHO was there for them.
I am here for you.
You are in my thoughts and prayers Beth.
You are in my thoughts and prayers Beth.
Beth – honey I know I have said this before but you have to grieve at your own speed. There is no time table but your own. I find such a gentle strength within you and you know it’s only been three months. I think you are just scratching the surface.
Nobody can really know or understand what you are going through no matter what they say unless they walk in your shoes and are feeling what you are feeling. It’s impossible.
It’s okay to feel alone. It’s okay to feel angry. It’s okay to feel sad. These are all legitimate feelings to have.
I don’t think I’d even label myself as the “sad me” – I think I would just be me, which for today is sad beause your children died. And that’s the truth and the reality and we need to love you and accept you for who you are.
And we do:)
I promise sweetheart it does get better.
Beth – honey I know I have said this before but you have to grieve at your own speed. There is no time table but your own. I find such a gentle strength within you and you know it’s only been three months. I think you are just scratching the surface.
Nobody can really know or understand what you are going through no matter what they say unless they walk in your shoes and are feeling what you are feeling. It’s impossible.
It’s okay to feel alone. It’s okay to feel angry. It’s okay to feel sad. These are all legitimate feelings to have.
I don’t think I’d even label myself as the “sad me” – I think I would just be me, which for today is sad beause your children died. And that’s the truth and the reality and we need to love you and accept you for who you are.
And we do:)
I promise sweetheart it does get better.
I haven’t read your blog in months. Until yesterday, when I went all the way back to the birth and death of your precious James & Jake. And I read so much. And…if it’s ok, and not too presumptious, I’d like to just pray for you. It’s all I can offer…
Dearest Lord Jesus,
I know that there is nothing that I can say or do to help Beth. Nothing but come to you on her behalf and just ask you to be with her in a way you never have before. Help her to see her grief for what it is: a process. Every bit as real as the babies she so recently said good-by to. Help her to really know that you feel every ache, every tear, every emotion she is feeling. Help her to remember that even you cried at Lazurus’ graveside – even though you knew that you were going to raise him from the dead. Help her to see your face, see the great tears that roll down your cheeks on her behalf, and to KNOW that your arms are securely around her.
I ask that you would show her just a tiny glimpse of what James’ and Jake’s lives are like now. Give her pieces of hope that she can really chew on and absorb and cling to on the days that are so hard. Surprise her with your kindness and mercy.
And Lord, please impress Beth’s name on the hearts of her friends – even the ones who are silent right now. Help them to hear your Voice, and know that they need to reach out to Beth – even if they can only do it in earnest prayer for her right now.
I don’t know how Beth feels, Lord, but I know that you do. And I know that she is my sister in Christ, and that she needs something…whatever it is she needs, please provide it to her.
In Jesus’ Name…
AMEN
I wish I lived next door to you…I’d come over tonight and let you unload. I would. Here’s a virtual ((hug)) from me. God bless you, Beth.
I haven’t read your blog in months. Until yesterday, when I went all the way back to the birth and death of your precious James & Jake. And I read so much. And…if it’s ok, and not too presumptious, I’d like to just pray for you. It’s all I can offer…
Dearest Lord Jesus,
I know that there is nothing that I can say or do to help Beth. Nothing but come to you on her behalf and just ask you to be with her in a way you never have before. Help her to see her grief for what it is: a process. Every bit as real as the babies she so recently said good-by to. Help her to really know that you feel every ache, every tear, every emotion she is feeling. Help her to remember that even you cried at Lazurus’ graveside – even though you knew that you were going to raise him from the dead. Help her to see your face, see the great tears that roll down your cheeks on her behalf, and to KNOW that your arms are securely around her.
I ask that you would show her just a tiny glimpse of what James’ and Jake’s lives are like now. Give her pieces of hope that she can really chew on and absorb and cling to on the days that are so hard. Surprise her with your kindness and mercy.
And Lord, please impress Beth’s name on the hearts of her friends – even the ones who are silent right now. Help them to hear your Voice, and know that they need to reach out to Beth – even if they can only do it in earnest prayer for her right now.
I don’t know how Beth feels, Lord, but I know that you do. And I know that she is my sister in Christ, and that she needs something…whatever it is she needs, please provide it to her.
In Jesus’ Name…
AMEN
I wish I lived next door to you…I’d come over tonight and let you unload. I would. Here’s a virtual ((hug)) from me. God bless you, Beth.
It makes complete and total sense. I only wish it didn’t have to.
I am thinking of you tonight- up at 2:30 am wishing we were in our early twenties and could go somewhere that’s open right now for coffee.
Steph
It makes complete and total sense. I only wish it didn’t have to.
I am thinking of you tonight- up at 2:30 am wishing we were in our early twenties and could go somewhere that’s open right now for coffee.
Steph
Oh Beth, I think of you so often. One of the first bloggers I followed years ago had lost her twin daughters during her second trimester. She blogged with such raw emotion, that I thought she was recently pregnant. As I followed her posts, I realized that she had been grieving for 19 years and her blog was her outlet.
Grief has no sense of time and in many ways you are alone with your emotions. Losing James and Jake was senseless, tragic, unfair and broke the beautiful spirit in your soul. None of us can truly understand…
But, as you process the whirlwind of feelings, I believe you will find strength – even if it is moment by moment, then day by day. In fact, the sense of awareness in your post says a lot about how much you have grown and been shaped by your babies in the short time that you held them in your womb and your arms. Yes, you are lucky to have learned that lesson; I only wish it wasn’t at such a cost to your heart.
p.s. Have you checked out GriefShare.org for a local group?
Oh Beth, I think of you so often. One of the first bloggers I followed years ago had lost her twin daughters during her second trimester. She blogged with such raw emotion, that I thought she was recently pregnant. As I followed her posts, I realized that she had been grieving for 19 years and her blog was her outlet.
Grief has no sense of time and in many ways you are alone with your emotions. Losing James and Jake was senseless, tragic, unfair and broke the beautiful spirit in your soul. None of us can truly understand…
But, as you process the whirlwind of feelings, I believe you will find strength – even if it is moment by moment, then day by day. In fact, the sense of awareness in your post says a lot about how much you have grown and been shaped by your babies in the short time that you held them in your womb and your arms. Yes, you are lucky to have learned that lesson; I only wish it wasn’t at such a cost to your heart.
p.s. Have you checked out GriefShare.org for a local group?
I’m sorry, Beth.
I’m sorry, Beth.
Aw, honey. I think after hearing all the horror stories of what unthinking people say in grieving situations, no one wants to chance being the one who says something insensitive…and inadvertently become blogging fodder! LOL
But, seriously, my SIL is battling leukemia in Chicago right now. Spent 6 weeks in the hospital, did 3 rounds of chemo, came home for 2 weeks, went back to Chicago, got a stem cell/bone marrow donation, and is 14 days out with horrible side effects and anaphalaxis-like reactions.
We heard over the weekend that the grafting had begun! We began praising but yesterday, suddenly, major complications set in.
And, I just don’t know what to say. When I call, email, leave a comment on their blog – what sounds meaningful, uplifting, positive, *real* without sounding hokey and trite? What can *I* do when all she can do is lay in a hospital bed in pain and unable to eat and talk?
Just what we are saying to you – hang in there. It’ll get better. Lean on God. Be angry – God can take it. Keep the faith. Stay strong. Cry when you feel like. Be sad. Talk to people. Share what you’re feeling.
But, despite wanting to move heaven and earth to make you and her feel immediately better/healed, those cliches are the best we can do from a distance.
It’s frustrating for us – but that can’t obviously begin to touch the frustration, disappointment, and grief you are feeling.
Just keep reaching out…help, comfort, healing are all out there!!
Aw, honey. I think after hearing all the horror stories of what unthinking people say in grieving situations, no one wants to chance being the one who says something insensitive…and inadvertently become blogging fodder! LOL
But, seriously, my SIL is battling leukemia in Chicago right now. Spent 6 weeks in the hospital, did 3 rounds of chemo, came home for 2 weeks, went back to Chicago, got a stem cell/bone marrow donation, and is 14 days out with horrible side effects and anaphalaxis-like reactions.
We heard over the weekend that the grafting had begun! We began praising but yesterday, suddenly, major complications set in.
And, I just don’t know what to say. When I call, email, leave a comment on their blog – what sounds meaningful, uplifting, positive, *real* without sounding hokey and trite? What can *I* do when all she can do is lay in a hospital bed in pain and unable to eat and talk?
Just what we are saying to you – hang in there. It’ll get better. Lean on God. Be angry – God can take it. Keep the faith. Stay strong. Cry when you feel like. Be sad. Talk to people. Share what you’re feeling.
But, despite wanting to move heaven and earth to make you and her feel immediately better/healed, those cliches are the best we can do from a distance.
It’s frustrating for us – but that can’t obviously begin to touch the frustration, disappointment, and grief you are feeling.
Just keep reaching out…help, comfort, healing are all out there!!
We are here. No judging, no $55/hr. Just here for you.
I like the tattoo idea, too.
We are here. No judging, no $55/hr. Just here for you.
I like the tattoo idea, too.
Beth, I seriously read this and was gripped with fear, and wanted to run away. Not from your situation, but I was amazed and shocked at how real, honest and brave you are. I was afraid because I was thinking about the possibility of facing a level of grief like you have gone through, and your courage is incredible, and I’m not sure I could ever be that strong. We aren’t the closest of friends, and in normal situations, I wouldn’t be the one that you could pour your heart out too. But, I am so happy you have this blog too, because I so desperately want to know what you are going through, and how I can pray for you, and I can do that through your writings. Thank you for sharing with me, thank you for being vulnerable and courageous. I’m *listening* when you write, crying as you speak, and praying for you non-stop. However heavy and hard this time may be for you and your family, there is a light at the end of this tunnel, and it won’t be one where those boys are lost or forgotten, but it will be one where they are celebrated, remembered and where you guys will have healing. Love you.
Beth, I seriously read this and was gripped with fear, and wanted to run away. Not from your situation, but I was amazed and shocked at how real, honest and brave you are. I was afraid because I was thinking about the possibility of facing a level of grief like you have gone through, and your courage is incredible, and I’m not sure I could ever be that strong. We aren’t the closest of friends, and in normal situations, I wouldn’t be the one that you could pour your heart out too. But, I am so happy you have this blog too, because I so desperately want to know what you are going through, and how I can pray for you, and I can do that through your writings. Thank you for sharing with me, thank you for being vulnerable and courageous. I’m *listening* when you write, crying as you speak, and praying for you non-stop. However heavy and hard this time may be for you and your family, there is a light at the end of this tunnel, and it won’t be one where those boys are lost or forgotten, but it will be one where they are celebrated, remembered and where you guys will have healing. Love you.
Oh my dear Beth. I wish I knew how to comfort you best. I feel inadequate in any of my efforts, but you’ve taught me that still being there as your friend and lending an ear is so important. I want to be there for you always and I want you to know you will always have my love, support, friendship, trust – a bond that will always be there. And that bond you will always have with sweet James and Jake. Their memories will be with all of us forever.
Oh my dear Beth. I wish I knew how to comfort you best. I feel inadequate in any of my efforts, but you’ve taught me that still being there as your friend and lending an ear is so important. I want to be there for you always and I want you to know you will always have my love, support, friendship, trust – a bond that will always be there. And that bond you will always have with sweet James and Jake. Their memories will be with all of us forever.
big big hugs for you…..
big big hugs for you…..