At all cost…

Stubborn: fixed or set in purpose or opinion; resolute (Dictionary.com)

My wife and I have been trying to have children for a few years now and we had been receiving results that we perceived to be unsuccessful. Many losses and even going down the road of adoption, which I found to be very overwhelming.

Finally, in early 2017 we found out that my wife was pregnant with twins. Twins. Of course at first, we were very hesitant to get excited and every little milestone along the way brought some relief but never did we feel as though we were out of the woods. When we both heard their two heartbeats it felt like the heavens opened up for me, I couldn’t really believe we had gotten this far. For my mom’s birthday I put the sonogram in her card and I think I took a minute for it to sink in for everyone that not only were we pregnant, but there were two babies on the way! The weeks went on and each doctor’s visit gave us good news, both of the babies were doing well and growing according to schedule. Then we found out that we were having two girls, honestly, I was hoping for a boy and a girl, but that wasn’t the plan. This is where my mind starts to tell me that I had something to do with the tragedy that was the loss of one daughter. When we found out, I was disappointed and had projected the idea of a girl and a boy into our family’s future, when that didn’t happen, I have this bad idea that my thoughts are omnipotent and that if I’m not in a state of harmony and peace I can adversely affect the health of others. (Yes, extremely self centered and self absorbed).

Their names just came to us almost instantly, like it was them telling us what they’re to be called, we just didn’t know who was who yet. At some level I was relieved to have two little girls, and time again I heard the jokes about teenage girls (which I get) but there was also something about the personal fear that I’d be too hard on a boy, and hopefully I won’t be too lenient with our daughter, but it just felt more natural for me to raise daughters. Still, with as far as we had come, we were filled with trepidation. Soon I started to let my guard down, the doctor even said that they were perfect, so maybe we will have two healthy girls. I even announced it on social media, and I really am not a fan of social media, but that is how confident I was in my perceived results.

Then in early spring twin B was 10 oz, and twin A was 12 oz. Doesn’t seem like a big deal, right? It was. As the weeks went on, twin A was doing beautifully, twin B’s placenta was basically empty, very little fluid to help her grow. Hoping against hope that it would correct, I held baited breath and at some level denied what was actually happening. Doctor after doctor told us she was going to die, that she may affect the health of twin A if we don’t selectively terminate. Her heartbeat was always strong and every week she defied the doctors who said she’d die any day now. Our little fighter. She literally fought her heart out for 36 weeks, her placenta even rebounded and she was getting fluid and gaining weight! Truly it seemed like a miracle, and maybe it was. A lot of people were praying for her and that may be the sole reason she lived as long as she did. Our babies were as stubborn as their parents. Surely stubbornness is not pleasant for most people to experience, but for the four of us it was our only option.

I will get into the experience of them being born at another time, but for the few days that she was alive there was no other focus in my mind but to be by her side and give her all the love and support I possibly could. My aunt told me to to take care of myself and not burn out, but I just couldn’t see any other way of approaching that situation. One of the most difficult parts of the experience was that the twins were separated and in different hospitals, I couldn’t be there for my wife and healthy daughter (who did spend three days in the nicu herself). Being stubborn seemed like the only way to get through something like this, and I’m sure any parent would’ve behaved the same way.

Lastly, I don’t ever want to diminish the fact that our twin A is doing great with us today, and I’d never want to downplay the fact that many people experience something like this with a singleton pregnancy and my hearts go out to them. This is just my experience, and I believe it’s something that has changed me forever.

Thank you for reading,

Michael

Mission Statement

Paradox: a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common sense and yet is perhaps true. (Merriam-Webster).

There are no words to express the profound feeling of losing an infant daughter, and there is nothing for me to compare it to, but the thing that is familiar for me in all of this is darkness. The idea of darkness is something that I’ve always embraced, I have always found a great power in that space, so it’s not surprising that there is a great opportunity here to tap into whatever may unfold from this experience.

A good friend of mine has been urging me to write for many years, and my initial response has always been resistance in the form of not being good enough, or creative enough to relay an experience of any real value. That brings me to the headline of this post; mission statement. What I really want to do here is to honor the memory of my daughter and one of the ways of doing that is to open up to the creativity that I believe is innate in us all. I believe it’s what she would want her father to do. The other way that I will try to honor her is in the way I live and the actions I take.

That being said, the past few months have been very difficult for me to get out of myself and try and give back at the very least to those immediately around me. Having a wife and an infant daughter has helped me try and think of others, and there are other spaces in my life that give me the opportunity to be helpful. Taking care of myself helps me to help others and the goal is to rededicate to self care.

These blogs will at first be what my experience has been to walk though something so dark and heavy, what it turns into, is a mystery to us both.

Best wishes,

Michael