Why this Time of the Year?

 Earlier this week I talked about some of my why's that I still seem to sit in and I had a prayerful moment and quite a revelation from the Lord the other day about one of them, 

I've always wondered why our loss had to happen this time of year.  As I said a few day ago, I had already experienced some pretty significant losses in the Christmas season and it just seemed to be added more pain to my already broken heart.  On Thursday I look it to the Lord in prayer and I found the song Joy to the World coming to my heart, specifically "Joy to World, the Lord has Come" and "Let every heart prepare Him room".

At first I thought it was just my usual distracted brain at work but then suddenly I was thinking of other messages we hear this time of year regarding advent, about preparing our hearts for Jesus and it made me think about what advent is really about.  

Through advent we prepare our hearts for the birth of our savior, we remember the time before Jesus came and the promises that were made to God's people and the hope they had for him to come and save the world.  I've learned in more recent years that it's not just preparing our hearts for him to come but to remember what he did when he was here.  Jesus came to serve, he is the ultimate guide on how to help others in need.  

And during advent we also prepare our hearts for Jesus to come again.  To fix what's wrong in this world and to take those who believe in him back to heaven...or bring heaven fully here perhaps.  

And so when I sat with those thoughts in my heart, I realized that having a tragedy that happened this time of year that seems so easily triggered is no accident.  With the sights, sounds and smells of this season triggering you to remember days gone by, days that were hard and dark and lonely, you can't help but think of where you've come since then.  

Jesus came to earth as a humble and innocent baby.  He had to grow and learn like every child.  He had to overcome what he didn't know, what hadn't developed yet.  As he took his first steps he stumbled just as I've stumbled taking steps out of this grief.  Once he grew to a boy who could learn from others, he took it all in.  He listened to teachers and preachers and became a humble servant of God his father.  And then when he became a man he began to teach himself.  He began to reach out to others to help them to see the way to his father.  

My experience of journeying through grief has been similar.  The early days were so hard, so dark and lonely.  None of it made much sense.  In time I began to meet others who could relate to some of what I was experiencing.  Not all of them were families who experienced loss of life but all were families who experienced loss of what felt normal and safe, all of them had a life altering experience with pregnancy complications.  Some of them became a lifeline to me.  They showed me there was hope.  They inspired me.  

Jesus' life began at Christmas and grew from there and this week as I've journeyed through some of these emotions I have this time of year I feel God telling me that I, too, began a new life at a Christmas season and it grew from there.  I'm not saying I'm anything like Jesus.  So far from it most days. What I'm saying is that a new life began for me 14 years ago and it involved heart changes that made life different from then on.  It spurred me to use the gifts and talents that God gave me to help others.  It moved me to become a person with empathy and compassion.  

Just a few weeks ago, when I went to my principal to request Tuesday off (because for as far as I've come, I still know that the anniversary of Cole leaving us is a hard day and not one I am ready to face the responsibilities I have at a work....in a school with 1 set of identical twins and at least 4 other sets) I shared something I said to a principal a few years ago about the loss of Cole and the journey we've taken.  "I am who I am because I've been where I've been".

The reaction from her, from my current principal and from so many others over the years has always been 'that must have been so hard and I'm so sorry to hear that happened'.  While I've often been able to express that it changed me forever, that line "I am who I am because I've been where I've been" really does sum it all up.  

It's not lost on me that we remember what Jesus came to do this time of year and I feel quite certain God gave me the timing of our loss to do the same.  To remember what I am here to do.  That I am his servant and my heart needed to break and be mended by Him for me to do his work.  

Pondering the Memories

 I've often wondered why I have such a phenomenal memories for things that happened long ago, things I've done and experienced, things said to me...and yet I can't remember to do tasks that need to be done without reminders LOL!  

God has definitely blessed me with a strong memory and usually I think that's a good thing but this time of year those memories can evoke such strong emotions and almost be overwhelming.  The start of this project to sit in my darkness and work through what I'm feeling and wrestling with as it relates to our journey came from a facebook fed memory.  It was only I'd posted about 2 weeks before our TTTS diagnosis and was about wondering about the gender, yet again, of our twins.  Reading it chocked me up.  The emotions of that time in my life became raw again and since then I've had such vivid memories of that time in our lives.  

The strongest of my memories are tied from the moments before my unofficial diagnosis up until the days after we lost Cole and I struggled to survive.  They all have strong images attached to them.  I can remember what I was wearing. I can picture doctors talking to me, picture what I gazed at out my window at Mt. Sinai, clearly see Geoff's face as he crumbled against the wall when we learned Cole was gone.  

I have all those vivid visuals attached to my memories but I yet my mind doesn't produce images of Cole in any way except his ultrasound photos and some images from the day he was born.  I think that I've worked through this enough to understand that memories with strong emotions attached to them don't fade and I think it's a bittersweet thing,  

Sometimes I pray God will ease my memories and take away the pain that can come with them.  He's definitely eased some of the pain and I can clearly see where this season of memories is much easier to walk through but I do still wonder and vivid imagery attached to them.  

It kind of bring me back to wondering why I don't have images of Cole in my brain and heart, why I can't imagine him here.  As I pray and think about it, I believe it's something God has given me to help create space between my reality and the reality of others,.  If I was stuck in those places of imagining what life would look like then I would not likely be able to help others walk through their own journey.  If I could imagine having him here then my heart might not be able to handle to actual images I see in the groups I support others in.  

Perhaps something to keep pondering.....why does God make some things so clear in our minds and other things remain dark and imageless.  

Until next time.....

Sitting in the Dark

 So yesterday I reflected briefly about wondering why God has placed it on my heart to be involved in twin groups online, in supporting others as they walk through the stressful times that come with being pregnant with mono di twins and, even more so, walk with them through possible diagnosis, surgeries, premature deliveries etc.  I know the answers to some of that and experience moments often where I know I was where I needed to be to help someone in need because God wanted me to be there.  I know that God gave me the gift of empathy for this mission.  But I do still find myself asking if Cole really had to leave in order for me to become the empath I've become?  Could it have happened any other way?  

And yes I do know the answer is no....but that doesn't mean it's not a place I sit in the dark and take it up to God with..  Thankfully he doesn't leave me sitting alone.  

I know that I am that someone sitting with others in the dark and I also know that God sits with me in my darkness.  He's there and he's listening to me as I work through the things that sit heavy in my heart.  

Another of those things is another why I guess.  It was actually something I had already written down in my journaling but a friend, my very first TTTS momma of one here and one in heaven friend actually, commented about yesterday when I shared my blog.  This why is something that relates to the why's of being a twin mom who can't imagine herself as one.  Why is it that I can't really imagine my life if Cole was here? Why don't I have visions of Cam and Cole doing things together, of our lives as parents to twins?  Goodness knows I spend enough time in these groups where people share photos and stories of their life with two that I should be able to imagine.  And yet I can't. I don't see what we missed out on...I can imagine other peoples twins in the scenarios I think about for us but the images I see are never of my boys together.  

So many loss moms that I've gotten to know over the years talk about having these images that flood the brains and hearts but they just aren't there for me and never really have been,  I know that I've faked it through the years and said I missed those moments.  I know I cried at times for milestones that didn't get to be met.  I know I talked about imagining what Cole would be doing today.  But in full transparency that wasn't always and accurate view of what I was feeling or imagining but more what I wished I could when it came to the things they would be doing together and it was just images of Cam hitting those milestones and wondering what it would be like to see Cole do the same....not an image of it happening if that makes sense.  

And I just wonder why God has never given me a vision of Cole,  And I guess why I have a gap in this area where other loss moms don't?  I actually think it's likely another gift God has given me, a place he's put me in so that I don't sit in the what ifs?

Definitely something to ponder.  

And now definitely time for me to go and pray and prepare for my day.  

A Light In the Darkness

 At the start of the advent season my dear friend and pastor spoke to us about waiting in the darkness, about looking at the small light given off by the candles on the advent wreath and sitting in the darkness around it waiting for Jesus to come, waiting in the emotions that come with...well with waiting.  Anticipation, yes, but also anxiousness and sometimes confusion.  We spent a long time talking about where our focus is while we're waiting and what it feels like to be in that darkness.  Later we prayed as a group and I asked for prayer as I began to walk in this season of memories that happens every year at this time.  And my friend said to me, "Maybe this year Jod, God is asking you to sit in the darkness and explore the emotions that you feel this time of year.  Not to just push through them and find my way to the other side of this darkness but to really sit in it and feel it all, reflect on those feelings and pray through it".

And so yesterday I began to work through some of it.  I am journaling my way through so I thought maybe I'd write it here too because, God knows and so do many others, that I'm not the only one who feels this stuff in these seasons and God also knows that we can use our deepest pain and suffering to help others, to walk with them through theirs.  

So I yesterday I wrote about sitting in the darkness, in the waiting, so full of mixed emotions, wanting to be happy, to be filled with joy at all God has blessed us with, in all the gifts God has given me that have come out since Cole passed away.

And I can see the light.  It flickers up a head, guiding me forward.  

But right now I know that I need to spend time in the darkness, in the now of my emotions.  It's time to explore them, where they are now and not where they have been or where they will take me as I often have.  I need to explore how I feel about the journey God has taken me on and be honest about how it feels.  

My biggest question has always been WHY?  At times I can find answers to that.  I can see and feel the things that have come from this journey and know they are so good.  But right now, right here in this darkness, this feels hard.  It feels like too much.  I want to ask God why me? Why then? Why does something that was meant to grow my heart have to hurt so much?  Why does it have to hurt so much so many years later?  

God why did you give me this desire to help others pregnant with twins because being in those places, those groups where they are makes me hurt so much sometimes.  It feels like I'm a glutton for punishment this time of year especially. And why this time of year?  Why did we have to lose our son 12 days before Christmas when Christmas already came with some really difficult emotions from losses in the past.  For those who don't know, I lost my friend, a boyfriend actually, to cancer on Christmas day in my grade 12 year and also lost a little boy I worked with....ironically, 26 years ago today.  (I didn't write about this part yesterday so once again God has worked to have me explore this emotion on a day that really matters).  Christmas is truly a horrible time to lose someone because it's such a season of memories anyway...and therefore a season of memories.  

I have some many moments this time of year that spark a memory that brings tears and sadness.  I want to push them aside and feel others want me to as well.  People expect that we'll be happy this time of year and people think that a loss that's almost 14 years old won't still sit so heavy in our hearts.  And people suck someitmes!!!  Sorry but it's so true!

I've diverged a bit and I feel like I'm needing to pray to come back to a place to continue exploring so this may just be it for today.  I will admit that it feels strange to just bring out these big feelings and let them sit but I also know God wants to bring me through this darkness so I need to sit in a bit and process and come back to it later.  

Thanks for following along and for praying for me as I walk through this.  

A Teenager in heaven....

 This morning as I sit and write my annual post I am filled with so many memories, some tears, a ton of emotions and a realization of just how far I've come.  This is the first year in the 13 years since Cole left us that I haven't been filled with tearful moments in the days leading up to today.  I've had a few and many of them are tied to missing my Grandma this first Christmas without her and imagining her feeding Cole her delicious shortbread and Christmas cake in heaven.  I can't say I'm not sad and I can't say there aren't tears being shed as I type but I can say that there is a peace that I didn't know I could have with this time of year.  Where there was once darkness there is light and hope.  Where there was once only sadness there is tear filled joyful moments.  Where there was once unrest, anxiety and gut wrenching sobs brought on by an onslaught of memories there is a peace that comes knowing that my son has inspired me to do so many things.  

Today sweet Cole you are a teenager in heaven though your birthday here on earth isn't for another 10.5 weeks.  A teenager, 13 years of heavenly existence.  Just yesterday one of my fellow TTTS mommies celebrated her daughter's heavenly birthday and the words she wrote about that day hit home.  Thirteen years ago you left us and thirteen years ago I died too.  A new Jodie took my place.  The me who I've become is a me completely inspired by you, by our journey through the diagnosis of TTTS, the surgery, the loss, the aftermath and then the healing.  And oh my sweet son the healing has come so far and my heart feels such a sense of peace in the fact that you are in heaven. 

I will always wonder what life would be like with you here.  This morning I had a vision of you... a slightly shorter, slightly slimmer and slightly calmer version of Cameron,  Many who know your twin well will laugh at the slightly calmer part because Cam is anything but calm but I do believe you would be the twin who sat back and watched more, who lived and loved with more reservation.  Why do I think that? Because that's how I feel you now.  You are this calming peace in my life.  You are my inspiration to do better, to be better.  

Without losing you I would not have done so many things.  There would be at least 2 less support groups on facebook, there would be hundreds less people I had met online and a few dozen less friends that I would have.  Without you leaving my faith would like different and I would have a completely different set of friends here in my day to day life than I do. Without you leaving there would certainly be over $50 000 less dollars donated to Mt. Sinai because you are my inspiration to continue with our fundraiser and your twin is the reason for the gratitude I'll always feel for all that Dr, Ryan did for us.  Together that inspiration and gratitude has a created a legacy, your legacy.  

I will always wonder what life with you here would look like but I know that life without you has made me who I am today it looks the way it should I suppose.  That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.  That doesn't mean it's without tears.  And it certainly doesn't mean I can ever forget the heartache of losing you but it does mean that I can move forward in peace, with joy in my heart and hope in all that I do, 

I love you Cole, today, tomorrow and forever. 

Open the door and let Him in....

 This past Sunday was the Sunday of Peace in the Advent season. We spent a lot of time at church talking about peace and about finding ourselves sitting in the darkness. Sometimes that darkness is a place of waiting, the place where we sit and wait and watch. It’s where we sit and wonder about our life and wonder what's coming next. And we sit there sometimes in peace. But we also talked about sitting in the darkness when you're not at peace. Sitting in the darkness and wondering why this is your life. Sitting in the darkness and wondering what the purpose of your life is. Sitting in the darkness thinking about some of the hardest moments in your life and finding that darkness sucking you in and overwhelming you.

One of my best friends is our pastor and she shared with us a story about going for a walk with someone in the last week or so who was struggling with her own darkness. She was struggling with a significant event in her past that had brought her great trauma and that she just kept going back to, that she couldn't let go of. My friend asked her to picture where Jesus was inithat hard and difficult time in her life. This young woman started to cry and she said that she couldn't see Jesus anywhere when she looked at that event, there was no signs that he was present. And so my friend told her to go back into that memory and open the door, open a window and  just let Jesus into that memory. Just the act of opening your memory door and allowing Jesus in to sit with you in that place is a pretty big one, pretty deep and, I think, pretty effective to bring yourself to that place of peace.  To welcome Jesus into our darkest memories so he can show us where he was sounds so healing.  

In the last few days I have found myself entering  into my season of darkness . It always seems to kick off on December 7th, World ttts Awareness Day. I know that my darkness looks nothing like it did just under 13 years ago. It doesn't look like it did 12 years ago, 11 years ago, 10 years ago... But there's still some darkness. Sometimes I don't understand why. And so I'm taking myself back to that place. I desperately needed to know Jesus was with me that horrible day. I see glimpses of him in various moments. I see him in the moment when Geoff and I held each other up as we dealt with the earth shattering news that Cole was gone.  I see him with us at them when my mom and dad walked into that hospital room just hours after we learned the worst news that any parent can ever learn. I feel him in the embraces that they gave me that day. I see him sitting with me that evening while I had another medical procedure done to try and save Cameron's life. I see him giving me the opportunity to share that with my dad, and giving me that memory that I will always cherish of my dad wiping the sweat from my brow and tears from my eyes as Dr Ryan performed yet another miraculous procedure. I see him in the joy that was on our faces when we learned that Cameron was going to be okay and that there were no lasting effects from everything that had happened. I see him riding with me in that ambulance to Toronto when my water broke and everyone was so sure that my very premature and tiny for his gestational age baby was about to arrive. I see him keeping Cameron safe inside of me for the next 7.5 weeks. 

But most of all I see him and feel him as he has guided me through healing, guided me to share my story and reach out to others. I feel him motivating me to help others, sense him in the way that 12 years later we're still running a fundraiser to raise money to say thank you to Mt. Sinai. 

And I feel him deep within my heart when I say, as hard as it is sometimes to say it, that losing Cole was a blessing on my life. I’m not always hankful for that blessing, most definitely not thankful this  time of year. But I know in my heart Jesus held me up through all of this and that he has shown me that my son can make an impact on the world without ever taking a breath. 

And so today I encourage anyone who has a dark and traumatic memory that interrupts their life and makes it difficult for them to move forward, to open the door of that memory, to open the windows and let Jesus in. Sit there in those moments and let him come in and help you to heal. Let him sit with you, offer you comfort and show you that he was always there, that’s he’s never left you.

Mending A Broken Heart

 It's quiet in my house this morning. I intentionally rose before everyone so I could have this time by myself, so I could write this annual post and have time to process what the significance of this day means to me today, this 12th anniversary of the day my life was forever changed.  I'm sitting here in what has just become our office and that significance isn't lost on me either.  If Cole was here this would very well be his bedroom.  And oh how I wish my house was as completely full as my heart is.  

As with everything in this crazy year of 2020, how I'm processing this season of memories has been very different.  Last year I talked about it as a grief maturity of sorts as it just seemed easier somehow.  And this year has been the easiest by far.  I have shed so fear tears...until last night and today.  Last night it was memories of 12 years ago yesterday that brought tears as I watched this episode of a new docuseries that reminded me of not only the surgery that was done and the pain of the loss but also the fear that came with almost losing Cam too. Today it's a flood of memories from that painful day that's brought them but it's also the realization that mending a broken heart, making a broken heart feel as full as I wish my house was, is awful and wonderful all at the same time.

My heart shattered into a million pieces in that fetal echo room at Sick Kids hospital 12 year ago today and I'm totally struggling to even see through my tears as I remember that feeling.  I couldn't imagine my life without this little boy I had been preparing for, this excitement and joy that I know having twin boys would bring. I remember those painful moments, those memories of the doctor doing the scan, the colour of the walls of the room, the view of Geoff crumbling against that wall.  I clearly remember wondering how I'd ever get through this, how I'd ever be whole again. The shattered pieces of my heart lay on floor at my feet and I couldn't imagine even trying to put them back together.

Over 12 years, day by day, I've experienced moments that bring each piece back into my heart. It's not perfect and it feels extremely vulnerable, at times, but my heart is full with memories and moments that I truly feel are Cole's legacy here on earth, moments he may not have had physically but definitely was part of spiritually.  I've spent many hours since he left us wondering why this is my reality but I've spent far more hours knowing that Cole is with me each step of the way as I work to help others, to change the face of TTTS support and, most recently, help change the face of fetal care standards. 

My sweet son, you have changed me, changed my heart and mind, more than I ever thought possible.  Twelve years ago today I could not have imagined that I would be meeting over video conference with world renown fetal surgeons and other medical professionals to help set standards of care in fetal medicine but this week this happened. The timing was not lost on me.  It moved the usual darkness and dread that comes over me as this day approaches to the side and gave me light, joy and hope.  Hope for the future for other babies struggling in the womb and hope for other families who may walk this path we've taken but in a way that feels more supported, less lonely. A week ago today I also began the process of taking over the management of a very significant TTTS support network and again the timing wasn't lost on me.  And again I felt your presence and knew you were guiding my hands and my heart as I took on this responsibility and challenge.  It feels like the way I can be your mommy in my heart even if my hands are empty of that task.

And so today on this 12th anniversary of the day we learned your heart was no longer beating and you'd left us far too soon I am definitely feeling a sense of peace.  I feel like I have a full heart and I can see that those pieces of my heart that lay at my feet in Toronto 12 years ago have found a way to fit back together again. And for that I am so very comforted today. 

My heart is full and the pieces are put back in place...but the cracks of that shattering will always be there. This day will always have sadness to it.  I will always be sad that I don't have you here with me and that we all lost out on the joy of knowing you here. No day will go by that I don't miss you and wonder who you'd be today.  And no day will go by where I don't wonder who I'd be today if none of this had happened.  I am who I am because I've been where I've been and that's the biggest part of your legacy sweet son of mine...moving and changing the world through my head, my hands and feet and through my heart. 

And so today I will shed tears and I will remember all the heartache of this day.  I will remember you and I will wish and wonder. That's what this day will always be.  Today I will miss you deeply Cole.  Today I will feel aches that consume me at times.  And today I will also know that it is ok to live in these moments of missing you and wishing you were here because without them I wouldn't have the other moments where I feel your presence, feel the push from you to be hope in the darkness for someone else, feel your love and light in what I do for others in honour of you.  

Forever I will love you. Forever I will miss you.  Forever I will be so glad you are mine.