If you are interested in learning more about our efforts to have a healthy, happy baby, please subscribe to our blog or visit our page on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/TheCantrellFamilySurgicalFund
Thank you all SO much for the support and prayers! You are irreplaceable! <3
Our Twins Journey to HeavenIn September, I learned we were expecting again. This time, I was intent on making sure our babies made it here safe and sound. Despite a decent amount of stress at the time, I managed to hold it together...for a little while anyway. I was working...A LOT and quite tired. It wasn't long before problems started to appear. My blood pressure was steadily increasing, I kept having contractions, was in and out of the hospital. All the while, I refused to believe that these babies, later named Seann Williem and Gianna Bella, would be born anything but healthy and happy. Apparently, there were other plans that I wasn't aware of. I wound up having some heart problems, the blood pressure climbed and one attempt to stop pre-term labor evolved into what seemed like one long act of prevention. As I write this, I can feel that pain in my chest, the knot in my stomach that reminds me that my babies are not here with me. Oddly though, I feel a bit disconnected. I think I have shoved these feelings down so long, I'm not sure if I remember how to feel them. I don't need reminding and, just like Hunter, if I close my eyes hard enough, I can see both of my precious babies. My heart wants to see them laughing and playing but my eyes only see them deep in eternal sleep. I wish there was a way to fool my brain into making it show me images of my babies dancing and singing, playing tag and hopscotch. Just when I think my mind might lead me there, I'm jolted back to my senses....shoved into my harsh, painful reality. I have now learned to live with this reality.
After almost four months of doctor's visits, hospital stays, shots and I.V.'s, on December 16, my beautiful babies, Seann and Gianna, entered this world. Just moments apart. Once again, there was no long string of friends to Congratulate me. There were no flowers or balloons. Just silence chipped into fractions by the words, "I'm so sorry" and "God wanted them home". At the time, I wanted to scream in their faces that I didn't CARE what God wanted! I wanted my babies! I even had some of things they needed sitting at home. Over time, i came to accept that God had a master plan but it was not immediately. At 18 weeks, my precious babies came into the world. At 18 weeks, I had to say goodbye. Even though I knew my babies were in the more than capable and loving hands of Jesus now, I bargained once again. I promised to be a better person, I begged to turn the clock back and re-do this so my babies could be here with me. All of my bargaining just couldn't make my babies come back to me....no matter how hard I cried or prayed or yelled.
I vaguely remember eventually leaving the hospital. A pit in my stomach, biting my lip until it nearly bled hoping it would take the pain from my heart and now empty belly.
I went home and just sat and stared. I didn't know what else to do. What DO you do when the world you were planning on is suddenly stolen, taken despite your best efforts to hold on to it with every fiber you have in you? How do you convince yourself it isn't your fault, that there was nothing else you could have done? How do you avoid turning on yourself? How can you stop wondering why something other women do with such ease is such a chore for your faulty, degenerate body to handle? Is it something you did long ago to someone else that you can't remember that you deserve to feel this crushing pain and maddening failure? Is it that you aren't meant to be a mother that causes your body to become defective and just a shell of a woman? How do you tell yourself that it isn't your fault when you couldn't save your babies, one of the most important roles of a good mother, of a protector, from death?