The Loss of "My Twins"

I miss my twins. I want my twins. One of the things I think I will always feel most robbed of, aside from getting to raise my child, is the loss of my twins. At the time we got pregnant and found out we were having not one baby, but two, there was a video going around of a pair of twin boys playing in the kitchen, laughing,  and speaking their own magical language that they both clearly understood. I was so excited to watch that in my own life. I long to see the relationship they would have had with each other, literally a part of each other. Watching them meet milestones, maybe developing their own language, and having that close special bond that doesn't exist anywhere else.

I want to hear the "Are they twins?" and the "How do you do it?" questions. I'm sure I would have gotten tired of answering, but I wanted those things. I wanted to join the moms of multiples club. I wanted the matching outfits, the two cribs, the babies holding hands. The bond that only identical twins can have. I wanted the boys to have built in wrestle buddies, playmates and probably even someone to fight with.

My reality is that people that don't know us, don't know Cohen is a twin. Unless of course I have the generally awkward conversation explaining our story like I did today. A fellow coworker had a family situation and will be off work. Trying to fill her spot, they called me to see if I was available to work next week to cover her shifts. Sorry I can't help, but Thursday is my son's birthday. No, sorry, I can't work Wednesday either. I wish I could help, if it was another week I could. Well, um...(sigh, internal battle with how much to say) my son is a twin. His twin died at birth, so that week is just not a good week for me. 

It will always be a bittersweet day. The day that should have been the best day, the day I became a mom. It should have been filled with squishy baby pictures and smiling faces. By now you know that's just not the way our story went. Instead of people oohing and aahing over our twins, we had a single tiny baby in an isolette and an empty crib at home waiting to be taken down
. Not the way we pictured our twin experience.

I'm thankful for the brief time our boys got to spend together, I just wish they had more. That we had more. My heart grieves that my boys don't get to grow up together. That I don't get to have both my boys as individuals and as twins. Instead of living out the life of having twins, we are watching others raise their twins, feeling the depth of what we are missing out on and hoping that somehow, our boy will forever feel the bond with his twin and that it will bring him hope and strength.