Thomas- part 3- my missing peice

There's the facts about my pregnancy with Thomas and there's the facts about the birth.Those are the easy parts to tell. Well, "easy" I guess would be more accurate. But they just are what they are. Facts. It doesn't change. August 26, 2010 will never change. January 13, 2011 will always be Charlie's birthday- the day he was born without his twin. The facts of what happened just are, they're not fluid, they don't change depending on who's telling them, they don't change day-by-day, they just are.

But then there's everything else. Things I don't talk about. There's life after Part 1 and Part 2. And that's the hard part. Facts are easy. The rest changes and every time it changes the pain and grief and longing find a new place of my heart and soul to move in to.

I was talking with Matt last night about Thomas. We don't talk about it very often, only when I can't hold in my grief and it bubbles out. We grieve differently. And because he never really talks about it I often feel like I am the only one who remembers Thomas, the only one that misses him this much, the only one who notices that he's missing. I know I'm not, I know Matt feels that way too, but it's often just very lonely. There is a Walk To Remember here on October 15th. That I so very much want to take part in, take Thomas' brothers to say goodbye and let balloons go for him. But I will be in Edmonton saying goodbye to my grandma who will not be here much longer. When I told Matt that I wished I had known about the walk sooner so I could have booked flights on a different day, he said that though I couldn't go to the walk to remember and say goodbye to Thomas, I was going to say goodbye to Grandma. And my first thought was "I wish that she were the one that was dead and not him". And I know that's a terrible thing to think. But the more I thought about it there are only 4 people in this life that i would not trade- Matt, Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie. Anybody else in my life, even people I am very close to, I would trade in a heartbeat if it meant Thomas could live.


There are some days I wonder if I had known earlier if something could have been changed and all this would have ended differently. What if I had pushed the midwife to send me for an ultrasound when I had a bright pink gush of liquid at 13w5d? Would they have been able to do anything? I know probably not, but I still wonder. There is one thing that I deeply regret. And that's not bringing home the placenta to bury in the summer. I wish I had thought that through further, had the foresight to know I would regret that. Instead of Having Thomas' remains respected and lovingly placed in the ground I chose to have the hospital dispose of them. To throw my sweet little Thomas out with the other garbage. And I hate that I let them do that. And I wish that I had thought about that.

I keep waiting for the grief to lessen. And some days it does. But it's always there. And a year later I think I'm coming to the realization that this grief will always be here. That it will always be a part of me and will never fade into the background like I thought it would. And some days it's hard to accept that. And some days I'm glad for that because even if I'm the only one who remembers, Thomas will never ever be forgotten.

Dear Thomas,
Not a day has gone by that I don't think of you. Long for you. Wish that you were here. Some days it's fine, you're in my thoughts and life carries on. Some days it's with every breath in and every breath out that I think of you. And some days, like this weekend, you not being here hits me so hard that I am knocked to my knees and I can't breath and all that can come out are body-shaking sobs. Those days are less than they were before, but they still happen. I wasn't prepared for this. I thought that by now I would "be over it". Not that I would have forgotten you, but that the grief would be in memory and wouldn't be so raw, wouldn't some days feel so new and fresh.

I watch your brothers and I think about how they are also missing you from their lives. I watch Charlie without you and I miss you even more. I know what you would be doing and what stage you would be in, because Charlie is doing it, too. And I just wish (wish seems like such a weak word compared to what I do- but I don't know what word to use) that you were beside him, sucking on his fingers and him sucking on yours. Pulling at each others faces and laying beside each other. Starting to try to crawl, doing all these things with your brother instead of watching over him. Charlie misses you. He doesn't sleep well and I think he's lonely. I think he knows that somebody is missing. And you are, you're missing from every part of our lives and you are missed.

What I wish for you my sweet boy is that you're happy. And loved and warm and taken care of and held when you need it. Please look out for us. And when I come to meet you I will give you that never-ending hug that I wish I could give you now. You have touched my life and touched my heart and not even for a second do I wish that you had never happened. I want for you to be here with us instead, but since you can't be, I need you to know I wouldn't change you out of existence.
I love you forever and ever and ever,
Mommy.