June

The moment I moved the calenders to this month, my heart broke.

It is very difficult for me to grasp that my twins have been gone a year this month.

Even though I feel like I've done pretty well with the whole situation as I haven't closed off and become reclusive, regular life is difficult at times.

I don't think it helps that we've now moved four times since we lost our sweet girls, and I've encountered many new faces.

I did a little "conversation vomit" about the twins yesterday to my new neighbor who will, I'm sure of it, be a good friend because I didn't scare her away with my obvious need to ramble on about my angels.

Happens sometimes...the need to ramble.

I've been pretty good at keeping the story to myself and not broadcasting it to everyone I meet right when I meet them when I get asked questions like "how many kids do you have" or hear statements recently from people like "one boy and one girl, how perfect."

I wish those didn't hurt as much as they do, and I wish I didn't feel the need to correct people when they say the second one.

(I don't usually correct them...I generally just smile, fold the hurt up and put it away to deal with later.)

Last night I attended a Getting to Know You Relief Society Activity in my new ward.

We played a game where if you could answer the question in the affirmative then you would go to the center of the circle and exchange a bag that was filled with something a sister loved.

I brought oreos in my bag to share, if you were wondering...which I know you were.

The questions didn't effect me emotionally until it was asked if we had had a kid in the past three years.

I felt a stab of pain, almost went forward, then forced myself to stay on the outside of the circle.

Immediately feeling guilty for doing so.

I felt as though I was being dishonest while I avoided looking at all the women who had gone to exchange their bags.

At the same time I was feeling guilty, I knew it was probably smarter to avoid the questions that would have certainly followed from curious women had I gone into the circle.

I've learned my lesson on sharing about Alayna and Jilinda because the moment I tell the story to a person who can't handle the news, it gets all awkward.

It is so much better when I tell someone I know will be able to handle it who gives me an "I'm sorry" or " I just don't know what to say".

When the person I tell can't handle it, I get that person comparing my loss to the loss their pet or I get this "look" and feel the need to state that I'm okay because if I don't they're going to break down and I'll feel the need extend comfort their way.

I generally don't mind sharing because I'm not ashamed or afraid to share a huge part of who I am, but I've gotten to the point where I'm tired of the awkwardness.

So, I usually try to steer clear.

It's gotten a bit easier to avoid the story since I've started showing with Lilia.

Everyone is more interested in happy news, which is just fine because that's normal.

But, there is a slight misconception about being pregnant again right after having lost babies.

It has been said that the "rainbow baby" helps with healing.

(The baby after loss is called that because it symbolizes the rainbow after the storm.)

Lilia has definitely helped, but I still worry about her.

Especially as she grows and gets closer to the 30 week mark.

In fact, every time I have an ultrasound, I have small anxiety attacks.

I try to calm myself, but really what ends up getting the calming job done is seeing her heartbeat.

Being grateful and extremely excited about having another baby girl doesn't change the fact that this whole thing is just hard.

Over time, it has gotten easier to adjust to my new normal.

Over time, my breakdowns have gotten fewer and further between.

But then, something happens that takes me by surprise.

Like a question, or a statement from someone who doesn't know what's going on inside of me because they've just met me.

Questions and statements that are actually very commonly asked every time I meet a new person.

I have found that the loss of my twins is like a large scar that flares up sometimes.

It's especially flaring right now as it is June again.

Makes me kinda wish I could just skip the whole month this year.