Here we are … two years.
	February 26, 2010 | Filed Under JJF | 152 Comments

February 26, 2008, we held our sweet, lifeless baby boys in our arms.  I labored, pushed, held them, I slept with them.  No matter how hard I tried, I could not keep them warm.  {I tried so hard.}

Part of me went with them, which brings me peace knowing they have some of their Mom with them, even today, as they shine down on us every single day.

And they left so much with us, their spirits, their guidance, their unbelievable love.  They shine brighter than anything else in my world.

Which makes me ache for them, now more than ever.

They live with us, in their own way, in the only way we ALL know how.  I marvel at the fact that we as family, here are earth, and they, as brothers, beautiful in heaven, work together so intricately to create a balance of family.  A balance of love that has no boundaries.

Anna loves them with all of her heart and soul.  She never fails to say that once this baby is born in just over four weeks, that she will have FOUR brothers.   Sometimes never specifying that two are in a place that we can not see.  {but only feel.}

Noah loves but fears so much.  As the four of us worked in the baby’s room the other night, he seemed to hesitate and finally said “but WHAT IF he dies?” His knowledge of death makes my heart break, what do you say to a six year old boy who should only know LIFE and not death?

I never know what is the right thing to say back to him, I want to reassure him but I have the same thoughts, way too many times a day.  We use words like TRUST and FAITH and LOVE and HOPE.

trust.faith.love.hope.

Yes. We are trying.  And we have two boys up in heaven giving us the strength we need to do just that.  Not a day goes by that we are not grateful.

***

To all of you who love James and Jake, there are so many of you, I wish I could describe to you what the feels like, but the words, they fail me.  Just know that it’s bigger than you’ll ever know.  Thank you for remembering.  Mostly, though, thank you for loving.

J&J – I know you feel what’s in our hearts today (and every single day) – we can’t have you right now, as precious, playful, curious toddlers, we can’t smell you and hug you and kiss your owies.  But instead, we have the most perfect angel babies standing guard, offering us strength and showing us love that will never, ever leave.  It’s only grows.  It’s so beautiful and we are so grateful for you.

“…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint us…”
Romans 5:3-5

	Good grief
	February 19, 2010 | Filed Under Family, JJF | 67 Comments

The title of this post is so fitting for my life right now.  I did not intend to be all double meaning, it just happened.  I opened up the photo in photoshop and thought “GOOD GRIEF, I am large.”  And then I saw things on my dresser, sacred, beautiful James and Jake things that I won’t even tell you about (that’s how sacred) that are right there.  On my dresser.  GRIEF.

And right above, my belly, growing this delicious baby inside of me who I know is speaking to his big brothers up there (as Anna and Noah refer to heaven now).  GOOD.

February 26th, the day I delivered James and Jake, the day that marks the moment I held them in my arms when I should have been holding them in my belly…the day and the days and months after..they hold GRIEF.

But that day, February 26th, marks the day we were able to hold those precious angels in our arms, we remarked on their sameness, their uniqueness, how much they looked like Noah.  We held the babies that changed our lives, our love, our outlook, OUR EVERYTHING.  GOOD.

We’ve traveled this road of GRIEF for nearly two years now – it’s been a road with dips and curves and SPEED BUMPS that felt like they would kill us.   It’s been a road of greener trees and flowers with overwhelming fragrance,  the kind of fragrance that stops you in your tracks, just to take in the sweetness that you never took the time to notice before.  But now you stop and you wipe the tears that flow endlessly down your face, you sniff and you smile and feel the sun on your hair.  This road, abundant in birds and butterflies, sunshine and the sweet laughter of a child, this road that I would not have chosen, not in a million years, yet this road is the most beautiful road I have ever seen in my life.

GOOD GRIEF.

Yes, in the same sentence, yes, together.

	History
	January 26, 2010 | Filed Under JJF, Pregnancy | 25 Comments

So, I’m sick.  I think I have a sinus infection, which is annoying because I was at the doctor’s office yesterday and thought it was just a cold but today I feel differently, like SIIIIIIICK, so now what?

Do I go back?  When I feel like all I ever do is go to doctor’s appointments?

Tomorrow I have an ultrasound to find out “just how big this baby is.”  I’m very nervous because I think he’s really big – which means a delivery before March 29th which, well, we were hoping to actually go full term this time around.

Except I’m so huge already that I’m almost always uncomfortable and out of breath.  I feel totally and completely swollen and unattractive.

And I can’t sleep.

(also….sick….do not forget about that one.)

And then I was going through some old photos and I found this one and I can’t believe that it’s actually my family, taken 11 months before I was even pregnant with James and Jake and I can’t believe how much we’ve changed.

Obviously, the kids have gotten older and well, Brian and I have, too.  But when I look at Brian and I, we look like babies.  Babies who just don’t know much of anything.  I sort of want to warn them “WATCH OUT…BE READY.”  But we probably would not have listened because, well, that’s just what people do, they don’t listen because they just don’t really understand.

I see this photo and I think “yes, I’m sick, I’m massive with a huge baby and huge ankles and sausage fingers and I’m almost always sweaty but my God, there is this baby in my belly who is almost here and there is nothing more important than that.”

NOTHING.

So, rather than warn all four of those people in that photo, instead I just want them to live just like they did, just how they knew how.  And right now I’m going to do the same.  Swollen fingers and all.

(and probably with a cookie in my hand and definitely a prayer in my heart.)

	Be glad for all that’s good.
	January 6, 2010 | Filed Under JJF, Loss | 24 Comments

It honestly was not my intention to write that post about finding out we were having a boy and then just let it sit there at the top of my blog, letting it get stale.

But things happen.  This morning, I posted over here and afterwards I was going to write a post reminding all of you to gather up your favorite photos from 2009 to share in tomorrow’s You Capture.

But then my phone rang and it was Arianne and I realized quickly that this phone call would be one we would never forget.

Her baby died, at 18 weeks.

My heart aches as I sit and think about what her heart feels like right now.  There are 50 things I want to do but I don’t want to do these things now because they all seem so trivial.  I can remember after losing James and Jake, reading a post by someone where she wrote about how she was thinking of me during our darkest moments.  It meant so much to me because I felt so alone all of the time.  And it’s not that she wrote about it, it was that she was thinking of me, really dedicating her private moments to me and my family.

It was so hard for me to hear that people’s lives went on as usual as mine STOPPED, dead in it’s track and the only real thing going on was the intense pain felt all over my body, the hot tears that flowed constantly and the pit of emptiness that sat within at every second.

After James and Jake’s memorial service, we all had dinner afterwards at my in-laws house.  I can remember my two friends telling me a funny story about how they were together the night before at Bunco (where I usually was) and how silly they were and it felt like someone had punched me dead in the face….how could life be so normal for people so close to me but so completely flipped around and horrifying for me?

I didn’t blame them for continuing to live their lives because that’s how we move on – it was just so hard to comprehend how not too long before that, our lives were so similar and suddenly, they were not.

Arianne just recently moved to South Carolina which is making this so much more difficult for so many of us.  I’d give anything to make her lasagna and muffins and bread and soup, I’d love for her to know that I could be at her house in seven minutes if she needed anything, even a glass of water.  I want to reach out and physically care for her…but I can’t.

So, I pray.  I give her my moments of peace.  I pray for strength for her and Jacob, I pray for grace and understanding and hope to creep in over time.  I want her to know how not alone she is even though that is what she is feeling right now.

Loneliness.

Fear.

After losing the twins, those precious boys that we miss SO MUCH all of the time, so many of you reached out to me with your words, your prayers, your wisdom.  You helped me through my darkest hour and not just me but many of my family members that read my blog, they would say “your comments are amazing and uplifting” or “did you read this comment from so and so?”  That’s how powerful you were and are to me – you left your words with me and they resonated throughout my entire family and continue to do so…everyday.

I hope you can take some time to do the same for Arianne.

	19-2
	November 8, 2009 | Filed Under Being a Mama, Beth Fletcher Photography, JJF, Pregnancy | 59 Comments

On February 25, 2008, I woke up, just like every other morning, took my daughter to school, came home and wrote about my then current pregnancy with our twin sons on my blog.  That day, I was nineteen weeks, two days along.

By the end of  that day, I had learned of their deaths and was at the hospital getting induced for their delivery.

I can remember sitting somewhere, I’m not sure where and thinking “I have to get pregnant again RIGHT AWAY,” I felt that desire way deep inside of me.  And although I had hoped to get pregnant again, I knew I’d never carry twins again.  That thought made me sad back then, I loved being pregnant with twins.  I loved it so much.

I’m so blessed to have known them for the 19 weeks,  2 days that I did.  Thankfully, I pushed my desire to carry again aside while we explored every avenue medically as to why this happened, especially after an early loss last January.

My fear has been that I’d never be able to carry past that time frame again, with this pregnancy I felt like 19 weeks, 2 days was nothing but a deadline for this pregnancy, not a milestone of sorts.

But yesterday, as I laid on the couch and felt this baby dance, DANCE!, inside of me, strong enough for Daddy’s hands to feel the movements, too, I was comforted.  Daddy was comforted, too.

Today we spent the day doing all sorts of things together as a family, a trip to Target, to the park, out to dinner and out for ice cream.  But in the middle of the day, we found ourselves doing a photo shoot.  It was planned for today, simply because it was 70 degrees outside, but it just so happens that this incredible weather and our new-found health brought us to capturing today.  19 weeks.  2 days.