Monday, May 30, 2016

Memorial Day

Memorial Day is the twins day for a few reasons.  It was the day that the gender reveal was supposed to be and it ended up being the day Emma was born.  It's hard not to think of them when I think of Memorial Day.  Since they were born 28 hours apart and it's hard to do stuff, usually in the middle of the week, on two days, we decided that we'd light a candle, do a little something on their anniversaries, but then remember them and do the actual "something" on Memorial Day.  This year we chose balloons.

I've had a very rough time lately.  From the anniversaries to getting injured to what feels like nothing working out.  I also have the guilt of I feel one twin gets more than the other.  What does that even mean?  Well, I feel Emma gets more than Chase.

On the day Emma was born, I had a lot of people come visit at the hospital.  I had help getting her picture taken so I have much better pics of her.  On the day Chase was born, the weather was so bad, outside of David, FIL is the only one who came.  No one helped with pics.  We had one nurse take a picture of David and I holding him, but otherwise David had to do it and he was in such grief he didn't get as good a pictures.  I don't have his features as much.

A year later.  With Emma I was able to get on the stool and light the candle myself.  I got to take a selfie with her bear.  Spend time in the backyard just remembering and reflecting and grieving and being emotionally with her.  On Chase's anniversary I fell down the stairs as soon as I posted stuff about him.  I couldn't get to the candle, so DH did it.  I didn't get a bear selfie with him.  It was storming again, plus I couldn't walk, so I didn't get any chance to just sit and reflect. He got less.  Tonight, I meant to release TWO balloons.  One for each child.  I got home and HIS balloon had somehow torn.  We were careful with both of them, but his didn't make it.  It was his because the blue string was tied around that balloon, even though I hadn't written the names on them yet.  I feel with every turn he gets less and she gets more.  It's hard to explain and probably sounds crazy, but it bothers me.  Also, something as simple as Instagram. I posted my message for Emma on IG and added it to FB.  I'm new to IG and forgot to do Chase, so she's the only on there.  I remembered a day later and thought about doing it, but really, it's too late and I felt like shit.

I've been struggling because a year ago I couldn't take care of Kate, needed help with most things, I was recovering and having to take it easy.  Here I am again, unable to do much.  My boot came in today so at least I don't need the crutches and I can walk around a bit more, but still.  It just sucks and I've had a hard time emotionally.  I've had a hard time being optimistic or thinking there's anything good in my future.  This Femara cycle has had me crazy due to me looking at everything as a bad sign.  The falling, all I could think was had Ivy not had Trisomy 16, I'd be pregnant with him and I fell down the stairs.  I could've killed him.  On one hand I don't think I'll ever conceive again, on the other I know I have some type of hope, otherwise why try?  Am I a danger to children? Unfit?  What if I had fallen and killed him?  Injured him?  What if this happens in the future?

A lot going in and out of my mind, some rational, some not, but it's been hard.  I've been following Tom Zuba like crazy and trying to take in his words and I've been hanging in there, but it's been tough.

Okay, to my release.  I wanted it at a park, but due to my lack of mobility, no park, we had to do backyard.  I wanted two balloons, but I moved Chase's string to Emma's balloon and did one side Emma and one side Chase.


The pictures. I'm gonna post my favorite one first.



This one is my favorite picture because the camera captures two sunbeams and if you look closely you can see the rainbow of color in each beam.  I have a heart around the balloon.



Emma's side.  The hand print is Katie's


Chase's side.  The handprint is Katie's.

Sunday, May 29, 2016

Two worlds

I'm torn in two worlds right now.  A world where this year is reminiscent of last year and a world where it isn't.  Yesterday was a hard day and I only began feeling better, emotionally, towards the evening. It was too much "the same."

I have a health issue (my foot), due to it I'm very limited in what I can do.  Everyone fussing over me and trying to take care of me.  I'm not allowed to do this, not allowed to do that because I can't really walk much and honestly I'm at a very high risk of this being worse or a reinjury.  I again, won't be able to go to the pool for quite a while.  I missed the end of the school year. My foot either has to be in a splint or a boot at all times. David and Katie are going to go off to the pool. David said I could come watch, but all I picture is last summer when all I could do was sit in my grief and watch and as selfish as that sounds, I can't do it again. Then the real fear, the thought I can't escape.  I am supposed to be pregnant right now.  I could've lost a baby by falling down the stairs.  How do I go on every day knowing every single day I wake up something horrible can happen?  I have no control.  I was just going down the stairs.  My mind was occupied so I thought I reached the bottom when I didn't. I just feel scared and sad.  I feel nothing within me is safe, nothing around me is safe.

On the one hand I really don't think I'll conceive again.  Certainly it won't be this cycle.  Since I can't do much of anything, I started thinking about follicle size and off to dr google I went to find something new I think about myself.  I went to look at cycle histories.  Most people worry about their follicles being big enough, I think my issue is they get too big.  A follicle isn't considered to have a "good egg" or even an egg after it's 25 mm.  Mine were 20 on Friday.  A follie grows an average of 2 mm a day.  This would make me at a 24 today.  Now I did have a 22 and a 25 when I conceived the twins, so I'm not out of the realm of ability, but looking back at some where my left was a 29, 28, etc. I'm starting to see what part of my issue might be. I also go back to my REs original words when he looked at my labs and history for the first time-it's an ovary issue.  I think so.

Anyways, I'm drifting. On the other hand while I think I won't conceive again, I can let go of the possibility that I "might" and that I could.  If I didn't deep down believe there was a chance, I wouldn't do it, wouldn't spend the money, the emotions.  I have conceived 3 out out of 4 medicated cycles with my current RE although only one child lives.

We've had so many storms here, there's flooding again, roads shut down, it's horrible. One thing DH did was go pick veggies off my garden.  I couldn't believe how much we got.  The small tomatoes are cherry and I was told to pick them green and let them ripen off the vine.


I don't have a rainbow, I may never have one, but I couldn't help but think of the concept when I looked at all these veggies from my garden.  From the storm, from a bad thing, life came, these veggies came.  We enjoyed the zucchini in our pasta for dinner and later I snacked on cucumber slices and ranch dressing. I'm excited for what the garden is producing this year.  I tried to see it as hope.


One of the caterpillars I got as a gift on Emma's anniversary has turned into a chrysalis.  I know the picture isn't great, but it's in a cup.  Again, new life.


And the reality.  The swelling has come down a lot, but the ankle doesn't look good and has a ways to go. I can walk on it, but I'm being careful not to do so to much and hinder healing since I don't want this process to take loner than it already is going to.

I'm trying to hang in there.  It just gets hard.

Friday, May 27, 2016

Sonosalinehystogram-cd 10

I had to go back to the RE today for my sonosalinehystogram. This is similar to HSG where they run saline through your tubes to see if the uterus and tubes are clear of tissue damage. Mine were. They wet ahead and checked follies and lining while in there. I have two follies on my left-what I consider the bad side at 20 mm and my lining was a 8-9. Nothing on my right side. NP said I look like I'll ovulate soon. I'm not hopeful between them on my left side and doing TI instead of IUI. But, of course I'll use OPKs and try anyway, because why not?

I'm feeling discouraged and down, especially since the ankle injury. Just feeling like I can't get ahead and what if I'd still been preg with Ivy and fell down the stairs. I don't know. Is the universe telling me no? Am I ever going to have another living child or was Katie really my one in a million?

Getting through Chase's first anniversary



I wanted a day similar to the one I had with Emma.  A day where I remembered him, took a picture with his bear, and kept his memory close with me. I knew fewer people would check in with me.  It's exhausting and emotionally draining and difficult for me to go through this two days in a row, much less people given a choice.  I have my community who lights candles in memory and does check in on me, but I knew there would be less of them yesterday and there was.  Even in birth, many people saw Emma, but only 3 people (aside hospital staff) ever saw Chase due to the horrific storm.

What I didn't expect was right after posting my blog post yesterday morning and heading downstairs to get dressed for work that I would fall down the stairs and hurt myself BAD.  I couldn't walk or put pressure on my left ankle.  The rest of me was not harmed.  I had an immediate panic attack that I was going to have to go to a medical setting, yesterday of all days.  I was frozen and crying.  I yelled for my husband to help me and he got me to the couch to look at the injury.  I texted pics to my sister, an RN, who told me that it was probably broken. My ankle was swollen to the size of a tennis ball. Either way, getting medical attention wasn't optional.  I called my mom to explain what happened so she'd understand why DH's car was here and the state of everything.  I took an anxiety med because yeah, not okay.

We first went to my PCP, I really couldn't handle an ER setting if I could avoid it.  I wanted least to most, physician wise.  My PCP said there was nothing they could do and no one they could recommend.  Honestly, I'm over the PCP.  Finding a new one this summer. I tried the minor emergency clinic next.  DH checked with them that they could help before getting me out of the car.  Everyone, including the staff there, was shocked to find that it was not broken, but very badly sprained.  They gave me pain meds and after the x-ray showed the sprains, bandaged me up in a temp cast and splint.


My last day of work is supposed to be today.  It was all playing again, the tapes. Medical setting, injury, end of the school year.  I was determined to make it to my work evaluation.  I had DH drop me off at one of my buildings. He helped me get to my office and once staff saw me come in with crutches, they got a wheel chair to get me to my office because I'm upstairs. DH left and I just broke down and cried ugly, ugly tears.  The amount of self pity I felt, the amount of hurt over Chase, over this, over the fact that I swear I can't ever climb out of anything.  I feel like life knocks me down time and time again. I'm not going to lie, I was full of self-pity.  It's not often I got into "poor me", in fact I despise when I do it.  I feel like a disgusting human being.  How dare I feel sorry for myself, but I did.

A coworker came some time later. She helped get me to the admin building for my evaluation.  It's this same sweet person who sat with me the anniversary of Emma.  Who's been there for me countless of times this past year.  I don't even know if this person knows how much I love her and what she means to me.

Anyways, I'm not going to go through the story of what it took for me to even get to said evaluation.  It's upstairs, no wheel chair, and where I needed to go was not near the elevator and it involved a lot of people trying to get me moved on a chair with wheels that didn't move well.  Eval was okay and I was told to turn in my laptop while I was there and call it a year.  No penalty for not coming today.  That was really appreciated because it started storming very badly again last night and now this morning.  One district is already closed.  I don't think mine will be because we're the only one who's last day is today and staff need to do check out procedures and get last minute stuff done.

After my co-worker took me home and my mom left, I felt sorry for myself again.  I couldn't light Chase's candle.  DH would have to do that.  DH and I grieve differently.  I was bitter, and self-loathing, I wanted to just disappear and die (not suicidal, just very, very down).  I fell literally in the morning and by the afternoon I'd fallen figuratively too.  I was not a good mom to Katie.  I let DH do all that, while I off and on cried.  He lit Chase's candle for me and took a picture.  I couldn't get the selfie I wanted with his bear, but he did get me the bears before bed so I could sleep with them.  I took something for sleep.

I did get myself centered that night when DH took Katie for her bath and bed.  I'd gotten myself a book just for me and I colored the opening page.  It's a healing book for grief and yesterday was the perfect day to start something in it. I calmed down as I colored and cried a bit.  I went to bed after finishing the page and maybe I'll do more later.





My children were united in life and now are united beyond. I am honored to be the mom of these beautiful children, Emma and Chase. They will always be in my heart (along with their little brother Ivy) until the day we unite.  To everyone who's read, commented, reached out to me in this past year and have supported me, even when I was really down and felt like I'd never, ever get back up again, thank you.  To everyone who lets me say their names, thank you.  The greatest gift I can get is to share my amazing children.






Thursday, May 26, 2016

May 26, 2015 Chase is born

A year ago today at 6:05 am at 19w0d, Chase David Naylor, was born sleeping.He weighed 7.2 oz and was 8.25 inches long. He was handsome and perfect. Not a moment or day goes by that I don't miss him. He and his sister have changed my life forever.


The night Emma was born another rainstorm started.  The storm was so bad that roads were shut down and school districts were closed the next day.  A good friend of mine stopped by that night to visit me, the rain started while she was there and it was too dangerous for her to drive back home.  She spent the night with me.

DH was already gone because he had to take care of Katie. I was stable the entire day and continued to believe and tell myself that Chase would beat the odds, that I would fight the infection and then come home with him and while we'd never, ever forget or miss his sister, he would stay here with me.

Nurses checked on me often and I was constantly monitored.  I called nurses a few times saying I was having a lot of contractions.  They'd check the doppler every now and then and always there he was with a heartbeat.  He dropped after Emma left room for him, but he was okay. I slept off and on that night, never very much, always praying that he really would make it.  I would have some rounds of contractions that would scare me, then they'd go away.

28 hours after Emma was born, at 6:00 am I was typing an email to work.  Everything seemed calm and still.  I wasn't having contractions, things seemed stable.  Suddenly my water broke and I screamed, I'm not sure what all my words were except something to the effect of he's dead, he's dead, please someone help.  He's here.  I was still dilated from delivering Emma, when my water broke, he simple came out.  His birth was a lot less painful and much quicker than his sister.

My OB happened to be right outside the room and ran in to deliver him.  I was screaming and crying and telling him to just let me die.  My friend grabbed my phone and ran out of the room once I screamed my water broke to call DH.  At that point any hope I had was gone.  I'd delivered my second sleeping baby and now both were gone.  Due to the storm and road blocks, traffic lights out, etc.  It took a bit for DH to get to me.  He also had to call my mom, but she lives just a few min. from me.

My FIL walked in and started talking about trying again and I was horrified.  At the time I vowed never, ever to be pregnant again.  My words when he walked in were, I killed the other one too.  He tried to tell me not to say that, but I wasn't having any of that.  For anyone who might read this who remembers a year ago and how I was after, you know that I carried the full guilt of their deaths with me every minute of every day.

After I found out Emma's gender I needed to know "Baby B", aka Chase. I messaged a friend of mine, the one who was doing the balloons I was supposed to pic up on Memorial Day, the day of the reveal, and what became the day Emma was born.  That's how I found out Chase was a boy.

I remained stable after Chase was born.  It took them a long time to get the placentas out and they had to make sure.  I spent the day Chase was born holding him, like his sister.  It was just DH and I because the weather was too dangerous for anyone else to make it.  We tried getting the same pics and poses as we did for Emma, but it was hard since we were both broken.  With Emma a friend did them so her pictures are better.  I wish I had better pics of Chase.  Like his sister, when it was time to say goodbye we sang "Soft Kitty" and handed him to the nurse.  I remained in the hospital another full day. I went home on the 28th mid-morning.  I wasn't healthy enough to go home, but my mental state was not good and the doctor was worried that my mental health would deter my physical health, so I was allowed to go.

One of the hardest parts of all this is that I have two full days of each child.  I never got to have them together in my arms.  Emma came and then him.  I had to get through yesterday and now I do it again today.






Getting through Emma's first anniversary

I'm not going to lie.  Yesterday was a hard day.  A very hard day.  I never did go back to sleep and the chest pain didn't go away either and only continued to get worse through the day.  A friend said it sounded like anxiety and I knew she was right. I didn't want to take anything, I wanted to feel all the pain.  I know even though I've mostly learned to forgive myself, I haven't completely, I know I still feel responsible on some level.  I know it was an attempt to punish myself.  I am alive, they are not.  However, I went ahead and took an anxiety med because I knew in my head I had to try and take care of myself, that I have to get through this.

The pain got better within in an hour of taking it and I didn't need another one the rest of the day.  It did start to hurt again, but by then I had my therapy appointment coming up and finally time to myself.  I had to work yesterday and do again today.  It's okay because my crying upsets Katie.  A co-worker who I consider a wonderful friend of mine came to one of my buildings with some lunch and was just with me.  I don't know if she knows how much that means to me, or maybe she does.  She's one of the very limited IRL people who know of this blog.  Most people do not, most are people I've met in various online communities.

I got home and there was a rush to get to therapy.  DH was working late, which put me at a bind for someone to watch Kate.  I found someone and then David said he was on his way.  A friend had sent something she knew arrived, but I didn't see it.  It turned out to be two caterpillars and 7 butterflies.  The butterflies were to be released and the caterpillars to watch grow.

I went to my appointment and I was nervous about sharing with her, especially the images of my twins.  She seemed really glad to see them and kept thanking me for sharing my babies with her.  She said she felt holy being in the presence of their memories of the tangible items I had of them.  I brought pictures of the pregnancy announcement, their ultrasound photos, pics of them after they were born, and a few others like a Mother's Day photo, a pic of Katie holding the bears on their due date.  I also brought their hospital certificates, death certificates, and my bears. It was a nice appointment and I struggled the more it went on, because these are my children and I wanted more and instead this is all I have.  I know I'm grateful to even have this much, it's more than I have with Ivy, although I do have one ultrasound of Ivy.

I came home and we released butterflies. We got Katie to bed and since DH and I grieve very, very differently, he went to play a game.  I poured myself some wine, sat outside in the backyard listening to the windchimes that bare their a name, given to me last year by a friend, and cried.  I let all my emotion, my love, my grief, the gratitude for the texts, messages, candles, gifts, and everything else given to me in remembrance of my babies.  I just let myself feel everything and cry.  I even closed my eyes and just let myself be with my emotions.  My chest didn't hurt after and I did take something to help me sleep because I've gone too many days without it and I know it's going to affect me and I still have to make it through today.  I have to go through two days of this every year, but I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.  I have no regrets that I am their mom. I love them with all my heart.

I took my bears to bed with me and snuggled them through the night.  Another day begins.  The one where I remember my Chase.











Wednesday, May 25, 2016

May 25, 2015 Emma is born

A year ago today at 2:15 am at 18w6d, Emma Lee Naylor, was born sleeping. She weighed 9.3 oz and was 9 inches long. She was beautiful and perfect. Not a moment or day goes by that I don't miss her. She and her brother changed my life forever.


A few hours after I was admitted to the room, David had to go. We were trying to keep Katie's schedule as normal as we could throughout all this since she was only 17 months old and too young to understand or know what was going on. She has a set bedtime routine, plus he needed to feed our cats and my mom had to tend to her pets as well. My contractions from the morning that led me to the ER never stopped. As the day wore on, they increased in intensity and as night came I knew I was in labor.  I called David right around the time I was sure I was going to give birth soon.  He called his family to get someone at the house since Katie was sleeping.

Things are hazy after she was born. I went from stable to very much not.  I lost a lot more blood than they thought and my infection got worse.  I was offered the option of ending both pregnancies after Emma's fate and my infection were determined, but knowing Chase had a chance, albeit how small, I refused.  I lost that option after she was born. I remember a lot of medical staff in my room when it had just been my amazing nurse and me prior to that. My doctor was yelling things, I was barely conscious. They were trying to get an epidural in me because they were going to end the rest of the pregnancy since at that point I was actively dying.  I tried to tell them no, but I couldn't really talk.  They also couldn't get the epidural in me because I was too weak and unstable.  I remember them wheeling my bed very fast around the hospital.  I think they were taking me to the operation room and planning on giving me general anesthesia.  I honestly don't know because I couldn't really ask, I was trying to feel better and somehow I ended up stabilizing a bit.  I'm not sure what I said, but they took me to a room where they took my vitals again and after a few min. reattempted the epidural.  This time I was stable enough to take it.  They had heavy doses of antibiotics going in me.  They asked me if I wanted Chase out or in.  They said they were limited on what they could do to give me if I chose to continue carrying Chase.  The epidural was in, but no medicine was started at this time.  It was "just in case" I needed to go to the OR.  I told them I wanted to continue carrying as long as I could.  I was told the choice was mine as long as I was stable. If that changed, so did my options.

They did an ultrasound and I saw him.  He was beating in the 160s and very much alive and seemingly doing fine.  I was having a lot of contractions, but they would calm down and then start up.  I kept praying that he'd be okay, that Chase would make it.  I told myself he would, after all, he was a namesake, he was my Chase, he would be born alive.

I spent the day very weird.  I held my beautiful daughter, it gave me some peace to hold her and have him in me, at least during those hours. In my mind they were still together and I had all my children. I was very, very sick. I had a few people come visit me and I offered anyone who walked in the chance to hold Emma if they wanted.  I was just as proud of her, as I was of Katie.  I didn't care that I was only holding her body, I wanted everyone to meet my sweet girl.  I held her every moment I could, looked at her sweet face, and listened as the doctor told me there was a 90% chance her brother would come in the next 48 hours as I told her and everyone in the room that he was going to make it, he already beat the 97% odds he'd be born along his sister.  He was born 28 hours after her.

Emma looked almost identical to Katie.  It was surreal to see the resemblance. My pictures of Emma are better because a friend took them for us.  She drove down 4 hours just to see me and helped get the pictures of Emma.  May 25, 2015 was Memorial Day and was supposed to be the day of my gender reveal.  We had her most of the day and when it was time to say goodbye, we sang Soft Kitty, and handed her to the nurse.





The PTSD intensified yesterday as the day wore on.  I had two people primarily trying to message me and I couldn't respond much beyond a word or two answering their question.  My chest hurt pretty bad on the way home from work and when I first got home.  I had trouble breathing too.  I felt like I was suffocating.  David was working late, so it was just Katie and I for a while.  As I watched her play I started to cry.  She noticed and started imitating me and saying "mama cry" and looking at me and then trying to smile to cheer me up.  Then she repeated it as I started crying again. I gave her a hug and got her engaged in another toy.  Went into my bedroom (next to the living room where she was), layed on my bed and cried and cried and cried while clutching the bear in Emma's first photo.  That bear was given to me by my nurse.  I put the baby bracelet of each child on that bear and have never taken them off.  I sleep with this bear every night since then. After crying, more of myself came back and stayed the rest of the night.

I woke up at 2:00 am today.  I knew I'd wake up in time for Emma's birth. My chest hurts so bad right now.  I miss my children, I miss them so much.



Tuesday, May 24, 2016

State of Mind

I'm pretty sure PTSD is hitting me right now.  It's hard to explain.  I'm trapped inside myself.  I've had a few people check in on me and all I can say is I'm ok.  I don't offer details, explanations, etc.  People haven't been pushing.  I find myself retreating and hiding, physically and figuratively.  I can't engage right now.  I don't know how. I perceive danger everywhere.  Danger from what?  I don't know.  I'm just trapped inside myself and I can't explain it to anyone.

I couldn't go to a lunch today at work.  Not with people who know what this week is, what tomorrow is.  I do okay with people who don't know or people I know who won't ask me.  I'm contradictory, because I want to tell people, but I can't. I'm trapped.  I can't explain it. I went to a building I thought I could be at for work, but I saw the stuff of coworkers and knew they'd be back after lunch.  I had sudden panic, like fear for my life, and had to get out and leave.  I went to another building where no one is and I'm working from there.  I feel safer, it's hard to explain.  My fear is not rational, I know this.  I'm trying to breathe, trying to remind myself it's okay, trying to stay in the present, in the here, and the now.


May 24, 2015

I think I spent half of yesterday crying.  I crying while writing my blog post, I cried after, I cried at home when talking to David.  I cried and cried.

My therapy session went well.  I didn't cry there.  I don't cry easily in front of others. We talked about how I'm doing, how hard this is.  I asked if I could bring some pics and things tomorrow and she said she'd like for me to do that.  I have a box of hospital things I'm bringing, like their clothes, and then I'm printing off some pics of them when they were born and I have their ultrasound photos too.

May 24, 2015

I had so much to do for the reveal still.  I spent Saturday mostly resting.  I stayed in bed and DHgot Katie up and dressed.  He asked me if I wanted him to take her out for a bit so I could focus on getting things ready.  I said yes.  He took her to a jump place.

I was putting favors together since I could stay in bed and didn't have to move much. The pressure was horrible when I was walking.  I didn't feel well and even though I was in bed and not moving much I kept having contractions.  I downloaded a contraction app and after an hour I realized I had 18 contractions.  I also had a fever of 101 at this point-with Tylenol to try and calm down my uterus.

I called the on-call OB who was mine and he said go to the ER and he'd meet me since he was at the hospital.  I got everything organized since I knew DH and Katie would be back soon. When he got back I told him we had to go to the ER, something was up.  I was also still spotting pink.  I called my mom to please come watch Katie.  She came right over and made a joke about me going to the ER every time I had a gender reveal (I did this with Katie and I had a low lying placenta.  I was bleeding bright red the day of her reveal) and that I needed to get back home since I had a lot to do.

I went to the ER and explained I was 18w5d pregnant with twins and not doing so well.  They took all the blood, got me into a bed, and otherwise the wait was endless.  I kept having contractions and I was feeling worse.  No monitoring because I was under 20 weeks.  In the medical community no one gives a rats ass if your baby lives or dies if you're under 20 weeks.  They can't do anything anyways, so they don't treat it with importance.  They're in a big hurry to do all the genetic testing though, go figure.

As I sat there waiting my water broke.  I screamed.  I started crying and I told DH it was over, babies cannot survive if water is broken.  I had no idea if one or both had broken.  My water broke with Katie, so I was very familiar with it. With each contraction, more fluid came.  Your body continues to produce fluid even if your water breaks.  David ran out to alert a nurse while I kept crying and screaming that my twins were dead.

I was taken in for ultrasound and I saw them both.  Their hearts were strong in the 160s.  They both looked okay and for a min, just a min, I let myself believe it was going to end up okay.  I knew my pregnancy had changed, but I thought they are BOTH alive, strong hearts, it's going to be okay.

I was wrong.

My doctor finally came in and apologized, but said he wanted all the information before seeing me.  At this time they had both the u/s and the blood test results.  He told me baby A's (Emma) water was broken and that she was going to be born in the next 24 hours and she would be dead.  That there was nothing we could do.  DH fell to the floor crying and begging.  I asked is there anything to save the baby, she was alive, her heart was strong, she looked good. He said no.  Once the water breaks that's it.  He also said I had a severe infection in my body and they were concerned for my life at this point.  He said I would possibly need a transfusion, but that I was very, very sick and my health came before theirs, especially at their gestation.

DH went to go call my mom and his parents with an update while they were getting me settled. My mom had went to the cake in the fridge and took out the envelope to see the gender of Baby A.  I didn't know yet. She told DH.  DH came to me to see how I was doing.  Both of us grief stricken and in shock.  How did I wake up to planning a gender reveal to going to a room to wait for one of my babies to be born dead?  He told me baby A was a girl.  I knew she was my Emma Lee. (We had talked about names, we were firm on b/g twins, I had g/g names I liked, although David only liked Emma Lee at the time, we were conflicted on b/b names).

They found me a room, away from people.  A room be plugged into medicine to keep me alive and try to get rid of the infection.  A room to lie in alone while waiting for my daughter to be born dead.  I saw her one more time on ultrasound.  She was perfect and alive.

Monday, May 23, 2016

May 23, 2015

I'm numb and I mostly just feel alone.  My husband grieves different from me.  I'm just alone with my thoughts and my memories.  A lot of my support system kinda dropped off after the April incident and that's fine.  I have mental issues, I am grieving, I am nothing to no one, so why would anyone stand for me?  I provide very little for others.

I have counseling tonight.  I hope I have the guts to ask what I want to ask-can I please bring pictures, their things, all that I have that's my babies to my appt on Wednesday.  To have someone else see my beautiful and precious babies.

I remember today, a year ago.  It was Saturday.  My mom had decorated the house Friday for the gender reveal.  She surprised me with it, because it wouldn't stop raining all month and the gender reveal was supposed to be at a park.  I couldn't find a clubhouse or an indoor place, so I chose my house.  My mom knew I wasn't feeling 100%, trying to get through work until summer, toddler, pregnant with twins, stressed.  So on May 22, 2015 while I was at work, she surprised me by decorating the house.  I wish I'd taken pictures.  She hung pink and blue streamers everywhere and I can still see it.  I was so grateful and in so much awe when I walked through the door and saw it.  I was freaking out over how I'd get it all done by Monday.She did it for me though to help me out because she knew I was stressed.  It looked good.  I had owls a good friend was making for me to add to the decoration.

This was the reveal invitation I used, of course, with my personal information on it.


My friend was making the owls to match the invite and the theme was kind of outdoorsy, which was perfect for a park.  Like I said, it rained the whole month and so I had to cancel and move the party inside.  My mom decorated, the owls were coming that Saturday. 

May 23rd, 2015-I woke up and saw I had  LOT to get done.  My in-laws were coming over to help finished a covered area in the back that would be perfect for the kids.  I wasn't feeling really well.  I called the on-call OB saying I had contractions and it hurt to move.  He said since I was under 20 weeks, there was very little that could be done.  I could go to ER if I wanted/needed, but he recommended I take Tylenol and stay off my feet and drink a lot of water.  If things were not better, to call him back.

I had to go pick up the gender reveal cake.  We were doing a cake for Baby A (Emma) and Balloons for Baby B (Chase).  I was really excited to find out what I was having.  I had to take Katie to the pediatrician because I suspected an ear infection.  I was right and she did have one.  I remember having such a hard time lifting her to her car seat from the car.  It was sprinkling off and on too.  I finally got her back home and sat down.  I could hardly move.  My FIL said I looked terrible and told me to not move.  My BILs g/f at the time, now fiance, was helping with Katie because she was active and I just couldn't.  I remember just sitting there staring, I needed to put together favors, but I just couldn't.  I felt so mad at myself and usesless.  I was only a few days shy of 19 weeks, I knew I should be more active.  I felt like I was so lazy from everything and just annoyed. I had issues with Katie's pregnancy too right around the gender reveal.

I didn't go to the ER.  Things didn't seem worse, I didn't have a fever, probably because I kept taking Tylenol.  I remember having a bit of pink tinge in my pantie and kinda worrying about the excess fluid, but pregnancy does weird things.  I'd bled with Katie.  I figured sitting down and resting, lying on my left side, cold water, etc.  All of that would make it better.  Just take it easy and then Sunday I could finish everything.  I had the cake, the house was decorated.  I asked my friend to bring over the owls on Sunday because I couldn't do it on Saturday. I told myself take it easy the rest of the day, I had help with Katie and David was being awesome.  Then Sunday I'd have the energy to put it together.

I wish I'd gone to the ER this day.  Had I gone, could they have saved them?  Was it already too late?  My doctor says yes, everyone says yes.  I'll never know.  

Friday, May 20, 2016

The hard moments

I got through yesterday and even took something to help me sleep last night.  I woke up better today.  I did okay most of the day, just kinda numb, dealing with the typical stresses of work.  In the afternoon I started to feel anxiety.  I kinda shrugged it off, no biggie.  It started getting worse.  I tried some oils and then started heading home.  The anxiety intensified to almost a panic attack.  I couldn't breathe, I felt like I was about to have a heart attack.  I wasn't sure what to do.  I went ahead and took some anxiety meds.  As I got home it wasn't much better.  I had a little bit of wine and then decided to try my meditation.  No improvement.  I started messaging a fellow loss mom and all of a sudden I lost it.  I started crying, big ugly, chunky tears.  I screamed into my pillow.  I just lied in my bed crying and crying and crying, I was in so much pain, everything hurt inside of me.  I miss them.  With every cell in my body, I miss them.  Once the tears were spent I started to feel better, I calmed down, the anxiety went away.



The truly and ugly face of grief.  This is what it looks like.  This is the best picture I have of the pain on the inside spilling to the outside.



Every loss mom knows this feeling. The feeling of a breaking heart of a soul that's missing pieces.  Having to realize that this is only one year of many where they are gone.  Counting milestones away, the dreams I once had shattering.  In a way, last year is happening all over again.

I'm doing much better.  I didn't try to harm myself in any way.  I contacted a friend.  I cried and let myself feel all the emotions.  These aren't just emotions of pain, they are emotions of love.  Emotions I get because they are mine and always will be.  I am better now and I know more of these will come this upcoming week.

This evening I will take care of myself.  After Katie goes to bed I will have a relaxing bath with my oils and take something to help me get some rest.  I'm surviving today, just like I've survived all the others and will have more in the future.

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Grief

It started yesterday, having trouble focusing at work.  Well, this whole week, I haven't slept much, been off and on irritable.  The weather, the cramping, headaches, most of all the flashbacks.  Counting each date, recalling what happened nearly a year ago.  The day I bled and rushed to my OB to be told my urine was clear of any issues, babies looked good, my cervix, uterus, everything looked good. All lies. The appearances were not true. It was all wrong, very wrong.  I was so sick.

Last night in counseling I almost broke down.  She asked me if I could let myself cry.  I have trouble crying. I used to not, but I have for years and I don't know why.  I couldn't quite cry.  I went home and did chores, got Katie to bed, and I was so exhausted I was in bed by 8:30, but I didn't really sleep.  This morning I'm so exhausted.  I broke down in the car.  I don't want this.  I don't want it to be a year.  I don't want my milestones to be without them.  Counting the distance, the separation, the length of time since I said goodbye.  I want them here with me.  I was sick and they died.  A year later I'm here, they are not.  I miss them.  I miss them so much.

I keep thinking and picturing, what would it be like with the 3 of them?  I'd be just as tired as I am now, but happily exhausted.  Happy to have completed my family and knowing that it will get easier with 3 young children in time.  I enjoy the struggles and joys of being a mom.  The struggles are an honor to know and experience.  The 3 of them would be playing.  The twins would be 7 months or older.  They'd be crawling soon.  Big sister helping them.  They'd be so much fun and oh, so much work.  What would they look like?  Personalities?  How would Katie treat them?  She's so sweet and gentle.  It doesn't matter what it would be, because it isn't and never will be.

Today my heart hurts so bad I feel like it's going to break.  Everything inside of me feels like it's going to break.  I'm at work, so I can't cry.  Maybe I can later.  I want my kids.  I want them with me. I don't want this to be real life.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Going rogue

DH and I talked last night and since I do have Femara sitting at home, plus some progesterone we decided to just "go for it" and do a Femara and TI (timed intercourse) cycle this time.  I have my sonosalinehystogram scheduled for May 27th, CD 10, so I even get kind of a monitoring check.  Since they'll already be in there, I'll just casually ask how my follies and lining look.

I honestly don't have high expectations it will work, but I can truthfully say I've never tried this before either. It's free and I have it, so why not?  Also, how I do emotionally with this will be very telling on if I am ready for the big guns, aka my Hail Mary.

I'm doing okay, although more emotional.  This morning I realized there's one week until Emma's anniversary and I just started crying.  I'm doing okay, I just miss them both so much.  My sweet babies.  Oh how I wish they were here.

So....  I'm officially CD 1, since AF appeared in the afternoon. Here goes nothing.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

RE Consult-Hail Mary

I had a consult with my RE today about the "Hail Mary" cycle, aka, final attempt to bring home another living child.

I was scared that I would have an emotional breakdown, extreme anxiety, depression, etc.  Actually, I did really good.  I felt okay, my anxiety was in check, I didn't feel depressed, just very strongly want this final attempt to work, feeling like it won't, and knowing I have no control over the outcome anyways.  It's either going to happen or it's not.

Anyways, my RE is really awesome.  He was very concerned for my emotional well-being.  He started off by asking a million questions on how I was doing.  Was I seeing anyone? How was I feeling?  He said I seemed a lot better than the last few times I saw him and that I looked better too.  He seemed pleased with my mental/emotional state.

He said even though we know the reason for all my losses he wants to do a blood panel on me to check for antibodies that could be attacking the pregnancy and also to see if I need blood thinners or anything else.  He just wants to rule out any potential issues that could affect a pregnancy or the chances of my cycle working.  He went ahead and emptied my vein today since that doesn't need to be done on any specific cycle day.  He also wants to do a salinesonohystogram to make sure my uterus and tubes are clear from any scar tissue before I get started.  Once everything is done, then if I'm ready I can do the "Hail Mary" cycle after next.  This would put me around mid-June.  Currently I'm 11 dpo and expecting AF any day now.  When it starts I'll call to schedule the last test and we go from there.

One day at a time, one step at a time.  Yesterday my day ended up being a 3.  Lots of triggers and I kept pulling myself up, then falling down, kinda went back and forth all day.  I didn't feel like I got as much out of counseling, but I was struggling when I went there.  Weather is a HUGE trigger for me and we've been living in the land of storms lately. When I walked out of counseling the sun was out for the rest of the evening and that helped my mood a lot.  I'm doing a lot better today-it's a 4. Overall I think I'm doing well this month all things considered.  It's getting harder as it's getting closer to the anniversary date.  I just really, really miss them.

Monday, May 16, 2016

In my head

1. The rain.  It won't stop raining.  It's supposed to storm daily for the next week.  The dark skies, the rain, the memories of last May.  I can't escape, I'm struggling to cope.  The anxiety is horrible.  I want to go hide and cry and cry and cry.  It's hard to explain, but I feel almost frozen, trapped in my fear.  I don't know that anyone gets it.

2. I wish my kids were alive.  My heart is hurting.  A year ago, my hopes, my dreams, my thoughts.  I wish they were a physical part of my family, not just an emotional one.  I'm doing the best I can.  I'm trying to embrace it.  I'm making the most of it, but there's a hole.  I miss them. I want them.  I think about them every single day.

3. I want to have another baby.  I want to be pregnant again, to bring home another living child.  To have the hopes and dreams that come with another baby.  I want it so bad.  I have to accept it probably won't happen.  Some days I think I can, some days I don't.  I'm scared it's going to fail.  I'm scared that it won't work.  I love Katie and I'm glad she's here.  I'm so incredibly lucky to be her mom.  I just want her to grow up with a sibling.  I want her to fight, argue, play, just experience life with a sibling.  I want the experience of raising more than ones, the challenges and the good parts.  I want all of it.

I'm having a hard time.  My days lately switch between 3 and 4.  I have counseling today and we'll see what we talk about.  I only get an hour and sometimes I feel like I freeze when I get there and forget everything.  I feel stupid, like everything on my mind is so insignificant and doesn't matter.

I have no one to really talk to right now, I know everyone is busy or sick of it.  So I post here.  No one has to read this either.

Friday, May 13, 2016

Rainbow

I'm feeling better.  As I was typing my last blog post I was crying.  When I finished I let myself cry and feel everything I was feeling.  I did deep breathing, like my therapist keeps reminding me to do.  I was okay, I felt better, back to "myself". Gonna continue taking care of myself with a relaxing bath and just taking it easy tonight.

This evening Katie, DH, and I went to scope out an area I thought might be perfect for the twins memorial on Memorial Day.  We thought it was very peaceful, serene, and just perfect.  As we were leaving I saw a rainbow.  I'd say Emma and Chase agree. <3




Struggling once more

I've been so proud of myself.  I've done well this month.  Actually, I'm just going to be honest, I've done good this month, very good.  But I think it's happening again, I'm starting to not be okay.  I guess it first started Wed.  I had my first "3" of the month.  Everything got to me, I was just agitated.  Then yesterday I had a 4, I was okay.  Then today, back to a 3, wondering if I'm really a 2.  I feel like I'm starting to disconnect from reality a bit.  I'm anxious, paranoid, I want to cry.  I feel confused, scared, just not with it at all.  I feel like I can't control myself, my thoughts, my feelings.  The triggers.

I've told the story a lot recently.  Now that it's the month, people forget exactly what happened and how, the details.  Was DH there, not there, they were born how far apart?  Died in me or out of me?  Taking the pics, planning what was supposed to be a gender reveal, but instead meeting them in person.  Crying as I'm typing this, I'm trying to just let myself grieve and say it's okay to be sad, to cry, to hurt.  I love them and therefore it hurts.  I carry them in my heart, always, but I should have the struggles of infant twins and a toddler.  Craziness, exhaustion, and happiness, pure bliss.  Instead I have a life sentence without my kids, a life sentence to PTSD where grief has become something more than just grief.  Where I'm trying to find myself and I don't know where I went.  When I hate who I've become.  I'm sitting in my office at work just crying, crying, crying.  I have to go home soon and put on a different face for my mom, a different face for Katie.  I should've known it was going to come back.  Am I really doing okay? Is that the fake part?  Am I okay and today is just hard because some days just are?  I don't know.

I started getting paranoid about work evals, like losing my mind over it.  It doesn't make sense.  I do my job, not in trouble, been asked to even do some extra based on my strengths and special skills.  Told not to worry, but I'm frozen, paralyzed in fear.  Living in this world where I'm alone and no one understands.  A world where nothing in my head says anything good and the flashbacks, the memories, the pictures, it's all a nightmare.  My children, those last moments.  Being told it was goodbye when all I could think about was hello. One min full of joy and hope, the next moment gone.  A year later wondering who I am, what I am, what now?

If you're reading this, this is my mind in PTSD hits.  This is the hell I'm trying to escape.  The one where it's my fault they died.  The one where I feel like a person who doesn't deserve life, love, kindness, anything.  The one that hates myself with everything within me.  The one that is trying to be normal, but isn't.  I'm letting myself cry and trying to breathe the way I practiced in counseling.  I'm trying to tell myself that the thoughts are not true, that it's the PTSD, not the real thing.  It's what I'm working hard to overcome, to do better with.  Tug of war, yin yang, back and forth.  The pendulum swings. Is this going to be my life forever?  Is there a way to make this better?

I have a consult with my RE on Tuesday.  It's just a consult to discuss testing prior to any medicated cycle.  Doing testing and a consult doesn't mean I have to jump into anything I'm not ready for.  I'm still assessing, still working with my tools, still trying to get better.  Still trying to climb out of it, even though it sucks me back in.  Trying to stay in the here, trying to ground myself.  Trying to be okay. Trying to rationalize myself, argue with the dark voices, the memories, the way I view myself.  Trying to tell myself this happened to all of us, not just them and it wasn't me who did it.  It just happened.  I did all I could with the knowledge I had, I went to the doctor, I went to the ER.  If I knew to do it, I did it.  No one saw how sick I was.  No one, except my FIL commenting on my lack of color and looking sickly, but he was the only one.

I'm telling myself and I'm going to keep repeating it that this is just a hurdle, just a phase.  I'll go home and then use my coping skills, the positive ones.  The meditation, the coloring, the breathing, letting myself feel and cry and get out the grief.  When it's empty I'll be okay again.  It's going to be okay.  It has to be okay.

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Mother's Day WITH all my children



Tom Zuba did it again. I needed the right words for this Mother's Day. The words that would help me get through the day in peace. I'm a fan of his page on Facebook (Tom Zuba teaches a new way to do grief) and I realized something, I was doing grief in a painful way. My goal was to "get through" and "survive", he talks about the power of words, those are powerful words. You see, I thought I had to go through Mother's Day without them. It hit me when I read this that I was wrong. I was the one pushing them away. I'm doing something different, I'm going to embrace Mother's Day and be with ALL my kids. Physical presence is only one kind of presence. Also, lets face it? Who's been in the company of another and still felt alone? Yes, I'm going to embrace, hold and carry each and every one of my children. I will never be without them again.

From the words of Tom Zuba on his page:

Mother's Day Tip #6
or a painful Mother's Day.
The decision is yours
and you will make it over
and over
and over again
between now and Mother's Day.

The good news
is that you
and only you will determine
if you have a peaceful Mother's Day

You are not a victim.
You are a co-creator
and you are co-creating consciously
when and if you are awake
and living in the present moment
or you
like so many others
are co-creating subconsciously when you are asleep
and living in either the past
the future
or both.

If you are living with the death of a child
your mother
your mother-in-law
your spouse
or a dear mother-figure
of course you will cry.
You cry because you love.

Crying is actually a sign that you are healing.
That you are strong.
That you are willing to feel.
That you are willing to be fully human.
That scares many
many
many people.

The part about being fully human.
How would it feel if you set some time aside today
and tomorrow
and Sunday
to BE with the person you love who
finished his/her earthly work
left their physical body
and returned home
To Love.
To Source.
To the place we each came from
and the place we will each return to
when we are done
finished
here on earth?

How would it feel if you connected with that?
Do you know how to begin?

There is a new way to do grief
which creates a new way to do life.

www.TomZuba.com

You can find my book
Permission to Mourn: A New Way to Do Grief


I chose to keep his book info, because it was life changing for me. It's helping me do this in a way that brings me peace, not pain. Okay, enough of the verbiage. How I chose to spend Mother's Day with ALL my children.









The pink and blue bears are Emma and Chase. The green bear is Ivy. My mom saw the bear while I was having my first ultrasound, the one I found out Ivy was non-viable. Something pulled her to it so she got it, then she got home and saw my email. She said the bear was meant for me.


























It's a good day! I am healing and it's going to be okay. My kids are not gone or missing. My kids are simply not on Earth. Loving and missing them each and every day. Feeling lucky today.

Friday, May 6, 2016

Memories

Here comes Mother's Day weekend.  I knew this weekend was going to be tough.  I'm glad most of my week has been good, but today is less good.  Not sure if it's going to be a 3 or 4, but somewhere in there, I'm guessing.  I'm probably about a 3.5 right now.  DH and I are kinda having a moment and this weekend.  I can't get away from the memory of last Mother's Day and I'm trying to deal with reliving it.

I was not feeling well at all.  In the picture of me last year I'm pale and kinda sweaty.  I remember I felt warm, I think I had a fever.  I was taking Tylenol 3, prescribed by my OB, to manage the pain, it hurt to walk or be on my feet.  My FIL at the restaurant at lunch kept saying how awful I looked (thanks), pale and sickly and he was actually very worried about me.  I went from the restaurant to my house and just sat the rest of the day.  DH kinda had to do everything because I just couldn't.  Hindsight.....  The day before that I'd spent the whole day walking and shopping with my mom and sister. I got two sand dollar ornaments.  One had a little girl-Kate, the other had twins.  At the time I thought they could be any gender, but after the twins were born I went and looked at it again and it was clearly g/b twins, just like mine.  I remember my mom making me pause before the purchase, she asked, how will you feel if you lost them?  I said I'd love it even more.  I'm remembering and reliving all of it right now.

I'm okay, not in danger, this is a hard weekend.  I knew going into it.  Tomorrow I'm doing a drink/paint thing with my mom, sister, and oldest niece, followed by lunch.  On Sunday I'm probably going out to a light brunch with my mom and then in-laws are coming over.  I asked to please just not do a restaurant as that's too much for me right now and that's been respected.  The brunch thing is okay since it's a simple buffet and much different from last year.

I wish I'd known.  I wish with all my heart I'd insisted something was wrong.  I honestly didn't know.  I just thought twins, toddler, full-time job, I have a lot of sleep issues, especially when I'm preg, so I was tired.  It was May, the most exhausting month of the year at my job.  I didn't know.  I wish I had, I wish something had said please tell the doctor.  I know it does me no good to go back, I can't help it, it's the PTSD.  Reliving, seeing, being there.  I'm okay though, it's manageable.  I've had these moments before.  I'm writing about it to help me process, so that it's not just stuck in my head.


How I feel about my kids





This is Mother's Day 2015.  I have makeup on to help my color, but I'm pretty pale. I was sweaty too, which is why my bangs look wet.  I didn't feel hot, I think it was fever coming up and down with Tylenol.  I remember being annoyed I was sweating in my forehead and back of neck.  Uncomfortable and I was like my makeup's getting ruined.  Yeah......



A friend added the text later, but this is the sand dollar twins I picked up that weekend.


Thursday, May 5, 2016

What a week....

It's been quite the week.  I've been doing well, really well.  I'm actually feeling better than I have been for a long time.  The fight and the win is in me.

Had a counseling session Monday that left me less than happy.  I was able to tell her yesterday that I was not okay with how it went and talk about it.  As a result of Mondays session I also hair flipped on a close group of friends and really messed up.  I'm facing them and truly apologizing and accepting responsibility for my actions.  Also had a trigger yesterday and dealt with it well, got through it.  All in all I feel I'm winning.  I know not every day will be like this, but I'm going to celebrate the days that are and put things in place for days that are not.

I have actually put things in place to prevent another "Friday" from occurring.  This goes from letting someone know when I've reached a trigger at the onset of one so that if I spiral, someone is aware and checking up on me, to rating my days so that if I have more than one bad day in a row I can analyze what's going on or have help with it by DH or my therapist and try to change the course, daily breathing/meditation, etc.  I'm very proud of myself and how far I'm coming.  I know it's still a road ahead, but I'm not going to discount what I've done and the steps I've taken so far.

I have some good job opportunities going on too, so life in general is looking up.  This weekend will be tough, but I'm going to make it through that too and it's going to be okay.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Weekend

I've been holding steady this weekend and doing pretty good. I decided I wanted a better picture of how I'm doing, especially if I'm considering one last attempt next month.  I decided to do a point system.

5-Great day, no emotional issues, or very minor ones that didn't impact my day.
4-Good day.  I might've needed one anti-anxiety pill, needed coloring, a drink, just something to kinda help take the edge off, but otherwise did okay.
3-So/so day.  This means I had a lot of ups and downs throughout the day
2-Barely making it, kinda pushing myself through my day
1-Horrific, we're talking the PTSD kicks in, self-harm thoughts, not sure I can make it, etc.

So far here's how it's looking.  I actually remember this past week so I started myself from last Monday.

4/25-5, 4/26-3, 4/27-3, 4//28-2, 4/29-1, 4/30-4, 5/1-4.  I was hoping for a 5 today, but I've been dealing with some anxiety. This is THE month for the twins, it's bereaved mother's day, I'm honestly stressed out about the fertility treatments next month.  Just scared that it's it, the last try, and the real knowledge that luck or chance isn't on my side.  It's probably going to fail.  I know I have to accept what is and move on, but right now, no matter how small, there is hope.  Once I do it, it's done. At the same time, it's been 5 years.  5 years of very actively trying.  Even before I knew I had a problem I was very involved in reading, OPKs, charting, etc. But I've done well today, made lunch, gone on with my day, played with Katie.

Someone posted this on my wall and it meant a great deal so to me and everyone else: