I laid in bed and thought about what 27 weeks meant to Truman and I.
I was emergency flown out of the county at 27 weeks with him.
I had already been pre-eclamptic for weeks.
Once Truman was born at almost 30 weeks, he was the size of a 27 weeker because of his growth restriction.
It kills me that that's all he got in life. Almost 30 weeks in my body and 4 days outside in a plastic box with needles and tubes down his throat and machines.
and the scientist in me is grateful because i know that he would not have made it that far without the medical advancements we have today.
It's just so heartbreaking.
As you know i'm not religious but will be the first to admit that anything is possible and i'm not the one with any answers.
Part of me wonders if Truman knows Remy on any level. Or knew him. Or will know him.
I think about these two boys, these two brothers and I am compounded with grief that they too will be separated, they too will not hear each other's laugh and play and fight and do things that brothers do together.
How do I even begin to help Remy understand any of it once he is able to.
Remy's kicks are very strong and they are the most comforting part of my day.
I hope that he lives a long and normal life and my intuition says that he probably will.
It makes the fact that Truman died even harder to believe.
How the hell did any of this even happen??
How is it that babies die? What is the point of that?
It's such a confusing and disorienting cycle of thoughts and feelings.
I miss my first son, my sweet little lion cub, who had so much courage and strength.
I'm missing all the places and times that are suppose to be filled with him and all of his wonderfulness. I feel the griefs largeness... it shook my foundation, rocked it, broke it up, filled in the cracks and now has settled into the very same foundation of who and what I am. Everything that I am and ever will be is built upon this foundation. It's the sky, it's the horizon, it's the sun and the clouds, it's my heart, it's the colors, it's everything.
and for Remy, I find myself grieving on his behalf. He will never know his older brother. and it breaks my heart that he will be coming into the world already missing someone that should be here.
Remy 25 weeks. With Truman.
Oh Laura. I found 23 weeks very hard in my subsequent pregnancy, to think that was all the time that the girls had before they were forced out into the world, so long before they were ready for it.
ReplyDeleteAnd it kills me too, that this was all that they got. A few days in plastic box. Gratitude too because my family has been a beneficiary of advances in neonatal medicine more than most.
Oh I just hope that your dear Remy arrives safe and sound, that he lives a long, normal life, just as you feel that he will. I know that you will explain about his older brother with love in your heart and I think that is all we can do. Although I know it feels like a terrible blow at the very start of life, to arrive missing somebody in your immediate family.
Thinking of you and your beautiful boys xo
These same exact thoughts run through my head right now, and they break my heart too.
ReplyDeleteIt hurts, and it makes my logical brain want to explode. It makes no sense.
Yes, yes, it's heartbreaking to go there - that this is all that there was of life for them.
ReplyDeleteSending you good thoughts. Have you seen this article, where science shows that cells from babies live on in their mother, and might even be found in subsequent siblings: http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=scientists-discover-childrens-cells-living-in-mothers-brain