The Loss of a Twin and What To Say

I want to begin this post by saying that I hope that no one takes this as if I'm speaking to them personally, but rather that I'm using this as an outlet for me to talk about the very difficult and complicated feelings I have as a mother who has lost an infant. This post is not intended for anyone in particular and I hope that if you see pieces of yourself in what I'm talking about, rather than be upset with me (I will not understand where you are coming from) that you'll just take this as an opportunity to be more conscious in your interactions with people who have gone through a life-altering and devastating event like infant loss. I hope that this touches people more than anything, and adds a voice to the very small list of blogs that share their experience with a single twin loss.

That being said, Denton and I are going through a lot right now, and understandably have been for the past six months in the wake of Madelyn's death. I appreciate that a lot of people understand that this will never be something we will get over and move past, it's just that over time we will learn to live with it better than we are right now. There is a huge part of me that feels like no one understands what we are going through, and that it's my fault because I make conscious decisions to be closed off about a lot of things. I realized after Thanksgiving that I should speak out about this more, because nothing is more isolating for me than people going about their business assuming things are fine, when I'm crying out inside for someone to talk to about Madelyn.

It's a unique situation when you have a birth that results in a child that is living and here with you now, and from that same birth there is a baby that is not. My counselor, who I have seen regularly now for almost six months, did a lot of internet searching on twin loss for me initially so that she could help me make some connections when I was ready. My own Googling did not yield a lot of help, and I often felt guilty about computer time, especially when Jackson first came home from the hospital. One of the best resources she steered me towards was the Center for Loss in Multiple Birth (CLIMB). This paragraph from their "Loss of a Twin" page really wonderfully describes what we are struggling with now:

But – we have the same amount of grief as anyone who loses a baby, plus the grief for "my twins" and the concern for our survivor, and so it gets stretched out over a fairly long period of time – longer, not shorter because of having a survivor, and complicated, not "easier". Besides our sheer feelings of losing our baby, we have a great deal to re-live and process emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and even physically about what happened, "why" it happened, and how to somehow integrate it all into our ongoing life. While all that is going on, we are dealing with a birthday which is also the birthday, and then the anniversary, of our twin who died...other landmarks and day-to-day reminders...issues about talking to our survivor and about what they may be feeling, and similar for any older children we may have...and often, issues about another pregnancy.

As ridiculous as it might sound, when this all happened I felt very, very alone and like I was the only woman that this has ever happened to (it sounds self centered, but that's the result of grief, which is incredibly isolating). Throughout my pregnancy when I would share that I was having twins, people would sometimes seem to relish telling me about all of the possible complications and how high risk the pregnancy was. People's "advice" and horror stories were really the worst part of my pregnancy. But no one ever said "You could possibly lose one twin unexpectedly after the delivery, even when you make it to 32 weeks." So I was completely unprepared for this outcome. While I would absolutely never wish this on anyone, I eventually found that many other mothers have gone through this before me. While some their NICU stays were much longer than ours and some had micro-preemies or some made it farther along in their pregnancies than I did, I've found so much comfort in their stories and seeing how they are doing with their surviving twin. I relate a lot to this mom's experience after she and her son came home from the NICU in the post The Loss of A Twin by Emily Carlisle and I found this post early on and really took her advice: Loss of Twin by Liz McCarthy.

I know many people think "I don't know what to say." I know that because if I have to hear it one more time, I'm going to scream. Believe me, Denton and I don't know what to do or say, and we are probably in a lot less clear emotional state than whoever is telling us that. I try to focus on the positive, because so many people DO know what to say and even the ones who don't probably mean well. I've started to realize that, like I said earlier, people don't know what we are going through sometimes and inadvertently hurt us. I've found that it's a lot easier to maybe direct people to things written by someone other than myself to let them know what's a good way to go about interacting with us. My favorite post that I just found this past Sunday is "How to Help a Friend Through Babyloss" on Glow in the Woods and I also like two posts written on the blog Jamesie Beats the Tumor called Received Rather Than Taken and Helpful Comments.

Everyone grieves differently, and while I don't like to talk about painful and traumatic things like my delivery, our time in the NICU, and the details of Madelyn's death, I truly love talking about Madelyn. And because we feel like my pregnancy was the time that we had with Madelyn and was one of the happiest times of our lives, Denton and I have found that we love talking about when I was pregnant. It means a lot when people close to us tell us how much they love her, and they use the present tense, as in "I love Madelyn" and not "I loved Madelyn" or "I would have loved Madelyn." I like when people tell me they are thinking about our family or tell me randomly that they are thinking about Madelyn. I don't like when people say "Love you three" as in me, Denton, and Jackson, but rather say "Love you all" so that I don't feel Madelyn is being left out. I guess that any sentiment that includes Madelyn, whether it is outright or subtle, means a lot to me.

I don't expect people to talk about Madelyn all the time or ask me how I am doing in a serious way every time we see each other. I do need a break from the grief and there are nights when it dominates our conversations at home. Just recognizing that we are going through a tough time in some way means a lot. When people that are a big part of our lives don't acknowledge our loss at all with a card or saying something the first time we're together, I call it "ploughing through," and Madelyn deserves more than for us just to pretend like this wasn't a twin pregnancy.

This post has been sitting in my "to publish" folder since September, and after Thanksgiving I realized that the holidays were going to be more difficult than I originally anticipated. Sometimes you just don't know how a day is going to go until it's here. I thought now was a good time to share this. As I said at the beginning, I don't mean to call anyone out. Denton and I have made an effort recently to let people who need to know what they can do for us and our grief and we do that privately. I've just found that it's very cathartic for me to write about what I am feeling, and some day someone's therapist might be googling "Loss of a Twin" for them and I would like them to see that there's a sad, but strong, community of women who have lost a baby and that some of us have lost a twin, and that you aren't crazy when seven months after your loss your world is still upside down and it seems as if no one understands. It's okay.