I feel like people are always telling me, almost ridiculing me for it, that I should be long "over it" by now, so I've been debating whether to even post this for days. So much do we judge ourselves that we can't even grieve right.
Anyway. On Monday, my son Robby would have turned 18 years old. A really big milestone that's giving me all the feels, even though he only lived for three days.
You see, it's complicated by the fact that his identical twin brother Jack WILL BE turning 18 on Monday. And so, once again, my mind plays the "what if" game, and I imagine what if I had two young men entering adulthood together...
Jack doesn't want to celebrate. He doesn't want cake, no candles, nothing. He's on the Autism spectrum and is very high-functioning, but when it comes down to somewhat stressful occasions like these for him, he shuts down.
The boys were born two months premature by emergency c-section, after they developed a rare rapidly-developing form of Twin-Twin Transfusion Syndrome. The docs moved fast, but it was too late for Robby.
So here my whole challenge becomes, I had THREE children (including older sister) who would now be my adult children, if Robby had survived. But instead I'll be like, "omg, how am I the mother of two (well, three) adult children?!!" I always wrestle with how to say these things, even to myself, even after enough years to complete a childhood!
Thanks for letting me babble a little. 🙏🏻