Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Bitter and the Sweet

What a couple of weeks it has been. I know it’s incredibly trite to say, but I absolutely can not believe that the babies turned 1 on April 2nd. Their actual birthday was so interesting, because the party was not until the next day, I we really got to spend the day enjoying the girls. Every couple of hours we would look at the clock and recount where we were a year ago: loading the car, waiting in triage, wheeling into surgery. At 4:28, I picked up Sophie, held her close, and sang “Happy Birthday to You.” It was an absolutely precious moment. Of course, at 4:29 I did the same with Olivia. I took a few minutes to think about the past year, from the first glimpse I got of the girls over the surgical drape up until this very moment- all that our family has been through, good and bad, and how very very lucky we are to have each other. My girls are healthy, they are clever and engaging, and their very existence thrills me every day.

So there’s the sweet.

The bitter of last week was the kind of news that you have to read 3 times to even get it to begin to sink in. My blogging friend Lindsay (you may have seen her comments on this blog) experienced a tragedy beyond imagination. I’m still not sure where to put it. I was first drawn to “The Other Lindsay’s” blog because we had so much in common: same age, both teachers, both struggled with fertility issues for years, both embarking on our first round of IVF at the same time. So many parallels. Of course, we know the outcome of my first round, and even though Lindsay’s didn’t work out, she never gave up. Finally, after 5 rounds of IVF, she and her husband conceived a little girl. I was so thrilled for her, so excited for all that was to come for them. She had finally made it to the third trimester, and was really allowing herself to get excited: picking out bedding for the nursery, preparing to bring their daughter home. On April 2nd, my girls’ first birthday, Lindsay learned that there was no heartbeat. They had lost their little girl. Their Sophia.

I immediately went up to where my Sophia was sleeping, put my hand on her back, and wept. This was not FAIR. This was CRUEL. WHY, when we have so much joy, are they having to endure so much pain? The chaos of this world is so disheartening.

I hate feeling helpless. I wish there was something I could do. We made a donation to the charity “The Compassionate Friends”, in Sophia Marie’s name. They provide services to parents who have lost a child. I hope it helps someone, somewhere. For now, I will hold my little ones a little bit tighter, remember how lucky we all are, hope that Lindsay can find peace, and I will always think of Sophia Marie on April 2nd.