Not much of a birthday

It is two years today since Archimedes Hare and Aubrey Michael nettle were born. Archie fighting for life, and Aubrey already gone 9 weeks previously.

The first month was like a dream, the next three months like a bad trip. The first year felt like a marathon, continually battling to put one foot in front of the other, using sheer force if will just to keep going, to stay alive. Reaching the first year mark was like climbing Everest, sticking a flag in it and calling it done.

This year has had an entirely different tone. I have accepted that although my loss has changed me, it no longer defines me. Although it was devastating, the life I have built, and the me I have become since losing my twins is worthwhile, and that the resilience I have attained (or discovered) is a great blessing that has come from great loss.

My thoughts about my boys (including my Squishy!) are now more likely to turn to the joy and good fortune of knowing them rather than the pain and devastation of losing them. Or the occasional pains of living with an awesome almost five year old.

I can look at pictures of Archie with love and pride, and joy. And know how lucky I am.