Today I was remembering when Samantha was in the RRNICU at about 4 weeks old. We would sit and stare into each others eye's. Some of Hannah's toys have black and white designs on the bottom. Samantha had a little black and white target in her bed. The nurses said she was so alert and always looking around so they put something in there for her to look at. A few days before she died they had to do an EKG. They were worried about an innocent murmur they heard. The nurse stroked her head the whole time and Samantha didn't make a peep. She loved it. Sometimes I wish I could go back to the NICU and sit in the chair where we spent time together. Of course there are many different places we spent time at two different hospitals, but they were all so special to me. When we opened the bag of things that were sent home with us when Samantha was transferred the second time, it was amazing how the smells immediately brought back the feeling of holding her. The way she snuggled and the way she looked at me with those piercing eyes.
Sometimes I try to avoid anything that will remind me that she's really gone. Like driving by St. Davids. LIke looking at pictures of myself pregnant. So blissfully ignorant of my fate. And other times I cling to every little detail and I try to remember to write it down so that I will never forget her tiny little fingers. I used to stand next to her incubator during the times I couldn't hold her. I put my left hand cupped on her head and my right hand with my thumb in her hand. I just stood there touching her.
I didn't take anything of hers to the hospital. I wanted so much to hold my breath and get through the NICU period. And now I am nostalgic for each moment. Trying to capture and preserve each memory. I wish with all my heart I could go to the NICU now and see her. The moments I thought were the worst in my life turn out to be the most precious and fleeting.
That empty car seat. The second crib. The extra sets of clothing. I had twins only for 5 weeks, but I will always be the mother of twins.
It feels so good to talk about her. To remember her. I miss her so much. Im gonna go kiss Hannah.
5 comments:
Wow you are such a strong mommy to have made it through so much. I don't even know what to say or how to understand what you have been through. I want to hug you right now and I will once we have another playdate. I'm sure you won't ever forget her and in moving on with your life you don't have to forget her. She will always be a part of you. That's how it is to carry a baby inside of you, once they are born they take part of you.
We will always be the mother of twins...hugs!...
You are so amazing Jaclyn and I think it is great that you are able to get these feelings out. Samantha will always be a part of you and it is good to remember her and think about her. Like Wendy said, I don't know of the words to comfort you but would love to give you a big hug. I get out of school on Wed, can't wait to see you more often... Love you!
Man, this is really deep. A thought by Stephen King passed through my mind when I read this entry. He said, "the most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of because words diminish your feelings - words shrink things that seem timeless when they are in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out." Your words in this entry are trying to let us, the world, know your deepest feelings/desires/wishes, yet you are restricted by language from telling us fully how you have been impacted by this experience. One of the most striking things was when you said, "... looking at pictures of myself pregnant. So blissfully ignorant of my fate." I can feel that b/c I, too, look back at photos and think about how unaware I was of what was to come (good or bad). How many of us have had that "spot" we hung out with our boyfriend only to break up and have to drive past that same d*mn spot day after day? I can relate to this concept.
They are all such beautiful girls, your daughters. Always a mommy of twins.
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