The Worst Month of My Life.

In the past I thought that I was going through the worst weeks of my life.

Weeks where cars break down, I’ve lost jobs, been beaten up and beaten down.

But nothing could have prepared me for three weeks ago.

Assuming (using, of course, the ass+u+me principle) that everything was going to be fine, and that my wife was a nutty pregnant lady, I told her that I would be a little late if show up at all to her impromptu ultrasound. She went in and was proven to not be a nutty pregnant lady and it didn’t just hit the fan, the fan broke off and lodged into the middle of life as we know it. In a moment of 10 seconds, our number of children had been halved.

It wasn’t a simple miscarriage, which still sucks, but worse; My wife was admitted to the hospital to have labor induced to deliver the babies. It was by far the hardest thing of our whole life. Saddest, hardest, worst thing in my life. Ever. All of our dreams and visions of identical twin girls dashed among the rocks of sad reality. I couldn’t really explain what I felt like until I came home a few days later and read a book to my boys hoping to escape from grief for a few minutes. I read a book called “Johnny and Janie, a book about opposites”. This was my experience in the hospital and at home.

I wanted to be in the hospital, away from life and the chaos. I also wanted to be at home away from the happy little families coming to see their new babies. I wanted to be away from the cute little preemie outfits laying in our guest-but-soon-to-be-little-girls bedroom. I also wanted desperately to get away from the shouts and grunts of all of the women coming in and out of the Labor / Delivery ward and the cheers as babies were born. I wanted to not be at home around my boys to have them see us grieve. I also wanted to hold them and weep. Weep bitterly over the sad loss. At the same time, I wanted to not see them.

There was then the time afterwards, when we came home from the hospital, but without any babies. I didn’t know what it would be like, but it was definitely just sad. Everywhere we seemed to go were reminders of this awesome gift that we weren’t going to get. Books on twins, little girl clothes, ultrasound pictures. There were the people that said things like, “Oh, how sad, but you can have another baby”. Yes, this is true, but we had rare x2: Identical Twins. The only thing that would be rarer would be if they were boys.

But it seemed like the perfectly appointed process, 2 boys and 2 girls, what was not to like about it? Sure it seemed a little crazy, but they were going to be God’s little miracle stories – Identical twin girls who were in this high risk pregnancy. But instead, it’s not that it’s us saying “OK God, what now?”

I still trust God, but I’m a little pissed off with him. He can take it though. I feel like once the initial shock wore off, I could really see how the twins thing was awesome. But now it’s just working through feeling a little bit guilty because I didn’t initially react in joy like my brain says I should have. I know that’s retarded, I know it’s ridiculous, but it’s just the crap my wife and I are working through. Part of me gets frustrated and thinks, that’s dumb, why would we have gone through all of that to just get back to where we started, but I suppose that’s all about faith. I’d hate to think how bummed I would be without it right now.

Now, it’s back to working on what the story of our life will be now.