I had a moment yesterday.
Anyone who knows me knows my stress-reliever and daily medicine is running. It's my Jodi-time.
But, I'm pregnant right now. So, I haven't been running as much as I normally would. And, that's been tough. The time in my life when I need to run the most... and I can't do it.
I ran the night I put Matteo down to sleep for the last time. It was dark out. It was the 4th of July. Fireworks were going off and I just let my mind wander as I watched the sky. I was worried about Matteo. Hoping he'd wake up in the morning and be feeling all better again. The temp had cooled a lot and it was great to be out in the fresh air. All seemed to be ok... my little guys were in bed and Gabby was curled up with her daddy on the sofa.
Now I would do anything to turn back the clock. I wish I would have let Matteo just sleep in my arms that night. Would it have changed things... I don't know. I just wish...
After Matteo died... it took me two weeks to get out on a run again. Mostly, because I just didn't have the energy. I wasn't eating. I wasn't sleeping. Nothing in our world was right. Everything was wrong. And, everthing still is. Just wrong and broken.
I think I've now run about 5 times since Matteo died. And, each time I just let myself cry.
Back in April... one of my very dear friends and my running buddy, Kathleen, and I were trying to plan our next race. We had just finished the Santa Cruz half-marathon and we were working on nailing down our next full marathon... with the hopes of qualifing for the Boston Marathon. We would need to shave less than 20 minutes off our time... and we thought it was doable. Not to mention, she had actually missed BQ time about 5 years ago on the San Francisco marathon course by 3 minutes. It was a goal within reach for sure.
Then... surprise... I got pregnant. And, I had to dog out on her.
Yesterday, the San Francisco marathon kicked off at 5:30am, sharp. And, I drove into the city so I could support my friend in reaching her lifetime goal, qualifing for the 2010 Boston Marathon. Afterall, she has been there for me more than I will ever be able to thank her for. This was the very, very least I could do. And, I was so excited and proud... I knew she'd finish in 3:45 or less.
I told her I wanted to run the last mile with her, so I could push her to the end. Quite honestly... as I was walking towards mile 25... I was so unsure as to whether I was going to be able to run with her. I've got a fast-growing belly and the last thing I wanted to do was slow her down.
While waiting for her... I was joined by another dear friend who was out of the country when Matteo died. She asked if I was "ok". I said I am never ok. I don't know what "ok" is anymore. I wasn't going to cry that morning. Not there at the race. But, I did. And there we were, cheering people on as they hit the 25th mile, and crying... for Matteo... and for how life is so flipping unfair sometimes.
Eventually, I saw Kathleen coming. There was less than a mile left to run with her. I got so excited and I popped out onto the race course. The first thing she said was "I have 7 minutes left." I said "that's not a problem because we'll be at the finish line in 4." And, I ran with her. I pushed her. I don't know how but I kept myself just a tad bit in front of her and repeatedly told her she can do it, she's almost there. I went into coach mode... and told her to push her shoulders back and pick her feet up... that she could do this. She was almost there! I was so proud of her. Then, I found myself at a loss for words as we got closer to the finish line... and there was only one thing going through my mind. So I said the ONE thing that kept going through my mind, even while I was tossing out all the other crap. I said "YOU HAVE TO DO THIS FOR MATTEO! Just do it for Matt." And she did. She did it. She did it for herself, her girls, her husband, her family... and I swear... she did it for Matteo too. I was so proud of her. I was happy and elated. Truly happy.
Right then and there... I experienced a moment of happiness... for something other than my two living children... for the first time in over three weeks.
So thank you, Kathleen... for letting me be a part of your success. Your victory. Your lifelong goal. And, thank you for letting me be a part of your happiness yesterday.
7/26/09
7/22/09
Losing a twin... is it doubly painful?
I sometimes find myself wondering if losing a twin/multiple baby makes the pain even more painful. Granted... I don't know a different type of loss. Just my own situation. And, of course... it's pure hell and painful beyond words.
Every minute of every day, we have Rocco... a little reminder of Matteo. Playing with us, teasing us, and running around being curious. It's impossible not to look at him and immediately think of Matteo. Afterall, they did EVERYTHING together. EVERYTHING. Never spent a day apart. Ever.
Twins are so interesting. And, since we have had the opportunity to experience both a singleton and multiples... we know the comparisons are incredible. Twins are more socially advanced in so many ways... afterall, every single waking minute of every day, they are having to learn things like sharing toys and cooperation (usually when getting into mischief of trouble). They sleep together for months from the moment they come out of the womb... and one, or both, always has a hand on the others face or they hold hands. It's amazing to look back at the photos of them sleeping as infants. Always, always touching each other. Then they begin to grow up and they start mimicing each other. A lot. Maybe it's screaming or trying a new sound or a word. Sometimes they see the other try a new food and the other immediately begins screaming/asking for the new food too. One might do something dangerous that they know they shouldn't be doing (Rocco). And, the other would be sure to follow fast (Matteo). They've got their own little communication between the two of them. They will say things to each other... half the time, not understandable to us at this point... and then they would be off to the races to get whatever it was they discussed. On a number of occasions, if the two of them were trapped in a doctor's office (which was so frequent)... Rocco would open the door and Matteo would start saying "GO, GO, GO!" while running out after his brother. It was as if they knew they had to go FAST... and had limited time before we busted them. It was a game to them... and the joke was on us. Oh how we loved the joke being on us... it was always entertaining. Everything was teamwork. Everything. Matteo was also becoming our little Rocco-alarm... he would witness Rocco doing something naughty and Matt would yell "No, Cocco no! Cocco no!" while waving his finger in the air and then he'd look at us, proud... as if to say "yeah mommy/daddy... I'm telling him he's being bad!" I could go on and on...
Dan and I REALLY, really, really miss the twin experience right now. A LOT. Ugh... it's like an additional empty hole in our hearts. Not as big or significant as Matteo not being with us. I think it's just that extra burn... the rotten icing on the cake of death.
Maybe it's because now we also look at Rocco each and every day and wonder if Matteo would have also said that new word today. We see Rocco hit the ball repeatedly off the T now... and wonder... hmmm... would Matteo have been doing that too? Or would he have still just preferred to catch.
Rocco seems to have grown a lot in the past week... physically and socially. Would Matteo have also put on some extra weight recently? Gotten a little taller? I can't help but think that every day for the rest of my life, I won't look at Rocco and instantly also think of Matteo EACH and EVERY time I see him... and just wonder. Wonder. Wonder. Wonder.
Socially... Rocco has changed SO much in the past week. His interactions with Gabby have increased significantly. His vocabulary has increased significantly... and he shows much more interest in learning words that we're speaking... not just his "twin talk" with his buddy that is no longer here to share in his daily adventures. Dan and I have felt that Rocco is also much more communicative and demanding of us. If he wants us to go somewhere with him.... he will physically move and point us in that direction... and then pull us over. Or, if he wants me to hold him, he will physically grab my legs, turn me to face him and hold up his arms. Prior to Matteo's death... if I had one baby at my leg wanting to be held, I most often had two. And, it was more of a screaming match between the two of them as to who would be picked up first. 95% of the time, I would pick them both up... at exactly the same time and hold them both like they were my little bear cubs. Totally proud momma! So proud of my BOYS! I would often look at them and wonder/dream about how handsome and charming they would both be someday... both so different and fabulous. I SO MISS my other little bear cub. Where IS my little baby? Where is he...
Having TWINS is just such a different experience. So demanding. So hard. But, so unbelieveably rewarding and fun. Especially as they get older and are interacting and playing and become the best of little buddies.
I think we'll also really miss hearing "the Martino brothers"... as people often referred to them as our "little mobsters" or the "Martino Mafia"... just based on their Italian names. I recall that when one of Dan's friends heard what we named them.... his first comment was "Dang. I REALLY hope my kid never bumps into your boys in a dark alley with his milk money someday."
Oh... how we already miss the thought of all the future funny little stories.
They were going to back each other up in life. They were going to be there for each other, through and through. They would defend and honor each other... even if they had their own little clashes. Rocco was going to be the pitcher and Matteo was going to be the catcher. Dan and I had talked a MILLION times how cute it would be to someday see the two of them in their little league outfits. The little Martino boys. They were going to gang up on their sister and tease her and tickle her. They were going to play practical jokes together on mommy, daddy and Gabby. They were going to have bunkbeds. They were going to stay up late and read comic books past their bedtime with flashlights... and switch who had the top or bottom bunk every other week. Matteo was going to be the studious one... because his concentration level was so high. He was going to be brilliant. Rocco would be the silly, goofy, fun one... maybe a little more of the class clown. Rocco would be the heart breaker and Matteo would get his heart broken... because he just loved SO much and really relied upon his close family relationships. They were complete opposites. Total opposites in every possible way. And, together, they were never EVER going to let their big sister go on a date with a looser. Never! They were going to be our little spies. Daddy's little helpers in protecting the family and the house.
Our little dudes. Brothers. Twins.
I think Rocco is already forgetting. I think Matteo is already just becoming a picture to him that he sees everywhere in our house right now. He will still see Matteo's picture and say "buddy". But... does he KNOW HOW MUCH they were buddies? Does he remember?
It all hurts. It hurts a lot. It hurts BAD.
In the past two weeks... Rocco seems to have picked up some of the qualities that Matteo had, but that Rocco never really shared/showed us prior to Matteo's death. Rocco has on numerous occasions now, actually sat in my lap and snuggled for longer than 10 minutes. Prior to Matteo's death... it was difficult to get Rocco to sit for even 30 seconds in someone's lap. Rocco seems to have slowed down some... he seems to take a little more time when doing things. Just like Matteo would have. This in and of itself is very interesting... I'd be interested in reading/learning more about similarities to this in other twin losses, at any age. It's definitely there. There's no making behavioral stuff like this up.
So here we are neck deep in grief. And, for some reason... we seem to also be grieving the loss of Rocco's twin... his lifelong best friend and that whole "buddy" experience.
Matteo's gone. Rocco's twin is gone.
It all just SUCKS so bad.
Every minute of every day, we have Rocco... a little reminder of Matteo. Playing with us, teasing us, and running around being curious. It's impossible not to look at him and immediately think of Matteo. Afterall, they did EVERYTHING together. EVERYTHING. Never spent a day apart. Ever.
Twins are so interesting. And, since we have had the opportunity to experience both a singleton and multiples... we know the comparisons are incredible. Twins are more socially advanced in so many ways... afterall, every single waking minute of every day, they are having to learn things like sharing toys and cooperation (usually when getting into mischief of trouble). They sleep together for months from the moment they come out of the womb... and one, or both, always has a hand on the others face or they hold hands. It's amazing to look back at the photos of them sleeping as infants. Always, always touching each other. Then they begin to grow up and they start mimicing each other. A lot. Maybe it's screaming or trying a new sound or a word. Sometimes they see the other try a new food and the other immediately begins screaming/asking for the new food too. One might do something dangerous that they know they shouldn't be doing (Rocco). And, the other would be sure to follow fast (Matteo). They've got their own little communication between the two of them. They will say things to each other... half the time, not understandable to us at this point... and then they would be off to the races to get whatever it was they discussed. On a number of occasions, if the two of them were trapped in a doctor's office (which was so frequent)... Rocco would open the door and Matteo would start saying "GO, GO, GO!" while running out after his brother. It was as if they knew they had to go FAST... and had limited time before we busted them. It was a game to them... and the joke was on us. Oh how we loved the joke being on us... it was always entertaining. Everything was teamwork. Everything. Matteo was also becoming our little Rocco-alarm... he would witness Rocco doing something naughty and Matt would yell "No, Cocco no! Cocco no!" while waving his finger in the air and then he'd look at us, proud... as if to say "yeah mommy/daddy... I'm telling him he's being bad!" I could go on and on...
Dan and I REALLY, really, really miss the twin experience right now. A LOT. Ugh... it's like an additional empty hole in our hearts. Not as big or significant as Matteo not being with us. I think it's just that extra burn... the rotten icing on the cake of death.
Maybe it's because now we also look at Rocco each and every day and wonder if Matteo would have also said that new word today. We see Rocco hit the ball repeatedly off the T now... and wonder... hmmm... would Matteo have been doing that too? Or would he have still just preferred to catch.
Rocco seems to have grown a lot in the past week... physically and socially. Would Matteo have also put on some extra weight recently? Gotten a little taller? I can't help but think that every day for the rest of my life, I won't look at Rocco and instantly also think of Matteo EACH and EVERY time I see him... and just wonder. Wonder. Wonder. Wonder.
Socially... Rocco has changed SO much in the past week. His interactions with Gabby have increased significantly. His vocabulary has increased significantly... and he shows much more interest in learning words that we're speaking... not just his "twin talk" with his buddy that is no longer here to share in his daily adventures. Dan and I have felt that Rocco is also much more communicative and demanding of us. If he wants us to go somewhere with him.... he will physically move and point us in that direction... and then pull us over. Or, if he wants me to hold him, he will physically grab my legs, turn me to face him and hold up his arms. Prior to Matteo's death... if I had one baby at my leg wanting to be held, I most often had two. And, it was more of a screaming match between the two of them as to who would be picked up first. 95% of the time, I would pick them both up... at exactly the same time and hold them both like they were my little bear cubs. Totally proud momma! So proud of my BOYS! I would often look at them and wonder/dream about how handsome and charming they would both be someday... both so different and fabulous. I SO MISS my other little bear cub. Where IS my little baby? Where is he...
Having TWINS is just such a different experience. So demanding. So hard. But, so unbelieveably rewarding and fun. Especially as they get older and are interacting and playing and become the best of little buddies.
I think we'll also really miss hearing "the Martino brothers"... as people often referred to them as our "little mobsters" or the "Martino Mafia"... just based on their Italian names. I recall that when one of Dan's friends heard what we named them.... his first comment was "Dang. I REALLY hope my kid never bumps into your boys in a dark alley with his milk money someday."
Oh... how we already miss the thought of all the future funny little stories.
They were going to back each other up in life. They were going to be there for each other, through and through. They would defend and honor each other... even if they had their own little clashes. Rocco was going to be the pitcher and Matteo was going to be the catcher. Dan and I had talked a MILLION times how cute it would be to someday see the two of them in their little league outfits. The little Martino boys. They were going to gang up on their sister and tease her and tickle her. They were going to play practical jokes together on mommy, daddy and Gabby. They were going to have bunkbeds. They were going to stay up late and read comic books past their bedtime with flashlights... and switch who had the top or bottom bunk every other week. Matteo was going to be the studious one... because his concentration level was so high. He was going to be brilliant. Rocco would be the silly, goofy, fun one... maybe a little more of the class clown. Rocco would be the heart breaker and Matteo would get his heart broken... because he just loved SO much and really relied upon his close family relationships. They were complete opposites. Total opposites in every possible way. And, together, they were never EVER going to let their big sister go on a date with a looser. Never! They were going to be our little spies. Daddy's little helpers in protecting the family and the house.
Our little dudes. Brothers. Twins.
I think Rocco is already forgetting. I think Matteo is already just becoming a picture to him that he sees everywhere in our house right now. He will still see Matteo's picture and say "buddy". But... does he KNOW HOW MUCH they were buddies? Does he remember?
It all hurts. It hurts a lot. It hurts BAD.
In the past two weeks... Rocco seems to have picked up some of the qualities that Matteo had, but that Rocco never really shared/showed us prior to Matteo's death. Rocco has on numerous occasions now, actually sat in my lap and snuggled for longer than 10 minutes. Prior to Matteo's death... it was difficult to get Rocco to sit for even 30 seconds in someone's lap. Rocco seems to have slowed down some... he seems to take a little more time when doing things. Just like Matteo would have. This in and of itself is very interesting... I'd be interested in reading/learning more about similarities to this in other twin losses, at any age. It's definitely there. There's no making behavioral stuff like this up.
So here we are neck deep in grief. And, for some reason... we seem to also be grieving the loss of Rocco's twin... his lifelong best friend and that whole "buddy" experience.
Matteo's gone. Rocco's twin is gone.
It all just SUCKS so bad.
7/19/09
And... life keeps moving forward.
Everything right now seems to be measured in days since Matteo died. Or, days before Matteo died. Yesterday marked two weeks since he died. I can't seem to remember what day it is at any given moment lately. But, I can always tell you the exact number of days since my baby died.
Time isn't the only challenging factor we've faced in the past 15 days... awkward moments seem to be another. I need to get a better handle on being comfortable with and handling awkward moments. It's almost like I have an ability to anticipate which situations will be awkward and which won't.
For example, I had been meaning to schedule a hair appointment for months. But, for a million time-related reasons, never got around to it. I had time last week... so I finally scheduled and had my haircut.
In the days leading up to it... I was dreading it. Not the haircut itself... I was dreading the conversation that I knew was going to happen with my new hair stylist. I had only been to her once prior to this appointment.
I was DREADING not being able to avoid the topic that has haunted me every minute of every day for the past 15 days... with a near-stranger. My sweet baby, Matteo. Gone. Forever.
I was about to be stuck in a chair... with someone who would want to chit chat and ask me a million questions. Don't get me wrong... she's a very nice girl... early twenties. Just no idea what she would be in for with me that day. I would be without a box of kleenex nearby. There would be no chance of me being able to just get up and leave when things got uncomfortable because she'd have a scissors in one hand, and my hair in the other. And because it had taken me so long to get my butt in for the hair appt in the first place... there was no way in hell I was going to be leaving with a half-cut head of hair.
So many thoughts were spinning through my head when "prepping" myself for this appointment. What am I going to do when she starts asking me about my kids? Will she remember I have kids? Should I just pretend to be someone I'm not so I can avoid the discussion all-together? Will she remember I'm married? I could change my name in the appt book and she'll think I'm a new client! I could be XX XX from XX... single, no kids... and completely avoid the discussion.
But I knew in my heart... I couldn't pretend to be someone else. That's not me. I don't know a different life. I only know what I know... and what I live and breathe right now.
I wondered how long it would take for the topic of kids to come up. I thought it would probably come up in the first 15 minutes... probably closer to the 15 minute mark.
Hair Stylist: "Ok, so what would you like to do today?"
Me: "Let's cut at least 2 inches off the bottom... layer it.... thin it out... just do some magic."
Hair Stylist: "Alright - not a problem. Let's go back and wash your hair. So... how has your summer been? I haven't seen you in a while. You must be busy with the kids... how many kids do you have again?"
Me: Pause... silence... deep breath... "Well, yeah... the summer has been busy. The kids definitely keep us busy... a little less busy right now which is hard. I have 3 kids. A 3 year old, two 18 month old boys... but one of my 18 month old boys died recently. He died in his sleep. We don't yet know why he died but we're hoping to get answers soon."
ROOM GOES SILENT.
Hair Stylist: "OH! I am soooooo sorry... I can't imagine. I'm so sorry." Silence.
Awkward silence. More awkward silence.
Hair Stylist: "Yeah... I've had a busy summer too... I'm moving on August 1st... blah, blah, blah."
I suddenly felt more comfortable that she changed the subject and the focus to herself. She continued to talk about her move. I acted interested... but all I could do was think about Matt. I saw his sweet face and smile... I tried to replay and hear his voice in my head. All the things that I don't want to forget... but fear I will slowly forget someday. I just let my mind wander in "Matt-world" while this near-stranger continued talking.
But, I made it through the moment I was dreading. I answered her question. I stunned the room. I stopped conversation just like that. But, most importantly, I said what I wanted to say. I have three kids. One died recently. Matteo will never, ever be left out of the "kid count". Ever. He will always be my child. He will always be with me. He will not be forgotten. I won't let it happen. I answered her questions with dignity and respect for my sweet baby.
The next day... I brought Gabby to gymnastics for a makeup class. Some of the mommies from her regular class were also there for a makeup class. And, there were a few other mommies there as well who I did not know. The mommies from the regular class knew about Matteo's death. They're a really great group of mom's. Two of whom actually took the time and were able to come to Matt's funeral... even after only knowing us from gymnastics. I'm still amazed by that.
Anyway, one of the mom's who I've gotten to know but hadn't seen for a few weeks asked something about Gabby... maybe it was if she was extra tired or hot. I really can't remember exactly. Anyway... I replied with "Well, actually... one of her baby twin brothers died in his sleep on July 5th... so she's having a bit of a hard time focusing lately."
She immediately felt awful. She looked concerned. I could see tears in her eyes and a true look of pain and shock. She grabbed my arm and didn't know what to say but gave me the look that only a mom could give... that I am living her worst nightmare.
Sadly, I appreciate "the look". Afterall... I am... I am living every mom's worst nightmare. Every. Single. Day. Living the nightmare. I live it minute to minute. I wonder where the hell my child is and why he isn't here. I feel like someone should be bringing him back to me...that maybe it's just a matter of time. I wonder why he isn't coming back... where the hell did he go? And I wonder constantly why things like this happen to sweet angel babies, like Matteo.
Anyway, in less than 30 seconds... four mom's around me are crying. All had tears. All saying how they can't imagine. All not knowing the pain... but somehow saying comforting things even though I'm sure they had no idea what to say. There we were talking about Matteo... having a regular conversation, not avoiding the subject, and letting the conversation ride itself out. With tears. And, without tears. The crazy part is that this wasn't awkward for me. And oddly enough, I didn't dread the conversation with this group of ladies. I knew it was going to happen... but I didn't fear it. Maybe because I felt their support already. Maybe because they were mom's and we shared a common thread. I don't know.
Life is crazy. It's a wild ride. I didn't know how much of a wild ride it was until 15 days ago. I don't think anyone... that ANYONE... seriously... can imagine or even fully try to relate to the pain or feelings we experience on a daily basis. I don't even hope for them to do so. I know there are people out there who can relate to losing a child... and I am so sorry for that. I would never wish for anyone to know this pain. Perhaps they lost their child at a different age, most likely a different story or type of loss. I know with my whole heart that I can never fully know their pain. And, I don't expect anyone to understand what we're going through either. I mean... how COULD someone? You just can't. And, we know that. We understand.
Sometimes I will talk about Matteo. Sometimes I won't. Maybe I will tell you a story about him or a great memory. Maybe you'll tell me a story or memory of you and your children. Maybe you'll tell me a crazy story from your recent trip to the grocery store, a vacation, a night out, etc. And, I'll be interested and will listen to every last detail intently. Maybe you'll see me laughing. Maybe you'll see me crying. You might catch me at a moment where I am truly happy and having fun or enjoying a moment of life. And, that's ok... because in that moment... I probably am happy. But... maybe you'll call me and I won't answer the phone. Maybe I'm avoiding calls all together for that moment in time. Maybe I'm curled up in a ball crying... or sobbing like a child and just want to feel and live in that moment. Maybe I just don't "feel" like talking. Maybe I'm spending time with my kids. Maybe I'll answer the phone and will look forward to some interesting news/conversation that you can share with me... taking me out of my nightmare if only for 5 or 10 minutes. I've never been one to chat on the phone much, so don't take it personally. What I'm trying to say is that... some moments are good. And, some moments are so absolutely awful and painful. Neither are predictable.
Unfortunately and fortunately... life DOES move on. Regardless of if we want it to or not. And, we are trying each and every day to keep moving on. To come to grips with the fact that Matteo is gone. Even though it's impossible to believe sometimes... that I will never see or hold him again.
Dan and I do not want to spend every second of every day openly rehashing how sad we are or how horribly Matteo's death has changed our lives. But, we also will never, ever tiptoe around Matteo's name or who he was. We will never avoid him in conversation, nor will we ever want to. We DO still want and need to experience happy moments. We need to have enjoyable conversation. We need moments of laughter and fun. We need it for us, but more importantly... for Gabby, Rocco and baby Surprise. And, I hope that it gets a little easier with each passing day.
Matteo's our little Angel. He's our third child. Always will be. We will always wonder... what he would have looked like, how big he would be, how long his hair would be, what sports he'd enjoy, how smart he'd be, how proud he would make us, how much he would have enjoyed this particular visit to the park, or to the ballpark with his daddy and brother, or how much he liked visits to his Gammy and Papa's house.
We will always wonder. But, we will never forget.
Time isn't the only challenging factor we've faced in the past 15 days... awkward moments seem to be another. I need to get a better handle on being comfortable with and handling awkward moments. It's almost like I have an ability to anticipate which situations will be awkward and which won't.
For example, I had been meaning to schedule a hair appointment for months. But, for a million time-related reasons, never got around to it. I had time last week... so I finally scheduled and had my haircut.
In the days leading up to it... I was dreading it. Not the haircut itself... I was dreading the conversation that I knew was going to happen with my new hair stylist. I had only been to her once prior to this appointment.
I was DREADING not being able to avoid the topic that has haunted me every minute of every day for the past 15 days... with a near-stranger. My sweet baby, Matteo. Gone. Forever.
I was about to be stuck in a chair... with someone who would want to chit chat and ask me a million questions. Don't get me wrong... she's a very nice girl... early twenties. Just no idea what she would be in for with me that day. I would be without a box of kleenex nearby. There would be no chance of me being able to just get up and leave when things got uncomfortable because she'd have a scissors in one hand, and my hair in the other. And because it had taken me so long to get my butt in for the hair appt in the first place... there was no way in hell I was going to be leaving with a half-cut head of hair.
So many thoughts were spinning through my head when "prepping" myself for this appointment. What am I going to do when she starts asking me about my kids? Will she remember I have kids? Should I just pretend to be someone I'm not so I can avoid the discussion all-together? Will she remember I'm married? I could change my name in the appt book and she'll think I'm a new client! I could be XX XX from XX... single, no kids... and completely avoid the discussion.
But I knew in my heart... I couldn't pretend to be someone else. That's not me. I don't know a different life. I only know what I know... and what I live and breathe right now.
I wondered how long it would take for the topic of kids to come up. I thought it would probably come up in the first 15 minutes... probably closer to the 15 minute mark.
Hair Stylist: "Ok, so what would you like to do today?"
Me: "Let's cut at least 2 inches off the bottom... layer it.... thin it out... just do some magic."
Hair Stylist: "Alright - not a problem. Let's go back and wash your hair. So... how has your summer been? I haven't seen you in a while. You must be busy with the kids... how many kids do you have again?"
Me: Pause... silence... deep breath... "Well, yeah... the summer has been busy. The kids definitely keep us busy... a little less busy right now which is hard. I have 3 kids. A 3 year old, two 18 month old boys... but one of my 18 month old boys died recently. He died in his sleep. We don't yet know why he died but we're hoping to get answers soon."
ROOM GOES SILENT.
Hair Stylist: "OH! I am soooooo sorry... I can't imagine. I'm so sorry." Silence.
Awkward silence. More awkward silence.
Hair Stylist: "Yeah... I've had a busy summer too... I'm moving on August 1st... blah, blah, blah."
I suddenly felt more comfortable that she changed the subject and the focus to herself. She continued to talk about her move. I acted interested... but all I could do was think about Matt. I saw his sweet face and smile... I tried to replay and hear his voice in my head. All the things that I don't want to forget... but fear I will slowly forget someday. I just let my mind wander in "Matt-world" while this near-stranger continued talking.
But, I made it through the moment I was dreading. I answered her question. I stunned the room. I stopped conversation just like that. But, most importantly, I said what I wanted to say. I have three kids. One died recently. Matteo will never, ever be left out of the "kid count". Ever. He will always be my child. He will always be with me. He will not be forgotten. I won't let it happen. I answered her questions with dignity and respect for my sweet baby.
The next day... I brought Gabby to gymnastics for a makeup class. Some of the mommies from her regular class were also there for a makeup class. And, there were a few other mommies there as well who I did not know. The mommies from the regular class knew about Matteo's death. They're a really great group of mom's. Two of whom actually took the time and were able to come to Matt's funeral... even after only knowing us from gymnastics. I'm still amazed by that.
Anyway, one of the mom's who I've gotten to know but hadn't seen for a few weeks asked something about Gabby... maybe it was if she was extra tired or hot. I really can't remember exactly. Anyway... I replied with "Well, actually... one of her baby twin brothers died in his sleep on July 5th... so she's having a bit of a hard time focusing lately."
She immediately felt awful. She looked concerned. I could see tears in her eyes and a true look of pain and shock. She grabbed my arm and didn't know what to say but gave me the look that only a mom could give... that I am living her worst nightmare.
Sadly, I appreciate "the look". Afterall... I am... I am living every mom's worst nightmare. Every. Single. Day. Living the nightmare. I live it minute to minute. I wonder where the hell my child is and why he isn't here. I feel like someone should be bringing him back to me...that maybe it's just a matter of time. I wonder why he isn't coming back... where the hell did he go? And I wonder constantly why things like this happen to sweet angel babies, like Matteo.
Anyway, in less than 30 seconds... four mom's around me are crying. All had tears. All saying how they can't imagine. All not knowing the pain... but somehow saying comforting things even though I'm sure they had no idea what to say. There we were talking about Matteo... having a regular conversation, not avoiding the subject, and letting the conversation ride itself out. With tears. And, without tears. The crazy part is that this wasn't awkward for me. And oddly enough, I didn't dread the conversation with this group of ladies. I knew it was going to happen... but I didn't fear it. Maybe because I felt their support already. Maybe because they were mom's and we shared a common thread. I don't know.
Life is crazy. It's a wild ride. I didn't know how much of a wild ride it was until 15 days ago. I don't think anyone... that ANYONE... seriously... can imagine or even fully try to relate to the pain or feelings we experience on a daily basis. I don't even hope for them to do so. I know there are people out there who can relate to losing a child... and I am so sorry for that. I would never wish for anyone to know this pain. Perhaps they lost their child at a different age, most likely a different story or type of loss. I know with my whole heart that I can never fully know their pain. And, I don't expect anyone to understand what we're going through either. I mean... how COULD someone? You just can't. And, we know that. We understand.
Sometimes I will talk about Matteo. Sometimes I won't. Maybe I will tell you a story about him or a great memory. Maybe you'll tell me a story or memory of you and your children. Maybe you'll tell me a crazy story from your recent trip to the grocery store, a vacation, a night out, etc. And, I'll be interested and will listen to every last detail intently. Maybe you'll see me laughing. Maybe you'll see me crying. You might catch me at a moment where I am truly happy and having fun or enjoying a moment of life. And, that's ok... because in that moment... I probably am happy. But... maybe you'll call me and I won't answer the phone. Maybe I'm avoiding calls all together for that moment in time. Maybe I'm curled up in a ball crying... or sobbing like a child and just want to feel and live in that moment. Maybe I just don't "feel" like talking. Maybe I'm spending time with my kids. Maybe I'll answer the phone and will look forward to some interesting news/conversation that you can share with me... taking me out of my nightmare if only for 5 or 10 minutes. I've never been one to chat on the phone much, so don't take it personally. What I'm trying to say is that... some moments are good. And, some moments are so absolutely awful and painful. Neither are predictable.
Unfortunately and fortunately... life DOES move on. Regardless of if we want it to or not. And, we are trying each and every day to keep moving on. To come to grips with the fact that Matteo is gone. Even though it's impossible to believe sometimes... that I will never see or hold him again.
Dan and I do not want to spend every second of every day openly rehashing how sad we are or how horribly Matteo's death has changed our lives. But, we also will never, ever tiptoe around Matteo's name or who he was. We will never avoid him in conversation, nor will we ever want to. We DO still want and need to experience happy moments. We need to have enjoyable conversation. We need moments of laughter and fun. We need it for us, but more importantly... for Gabby, Rocco and baby Surprise. And, I hope that it gets a little easier with each passing day.
Matteo's our little Angel. He's our third child. Always will be. We will always wonder... what he would have looked like, how big he would be, how long his hair would be, what sports he'd enjoy, how smart he'd be, how proud he would make us, how much he would have enjoyed this particular visit to the park, or to the ballpark with his daddy and brother, or how much he liked visits to his Gammy and Papa's house.
We will always wonder. But, we will never forget.
7/17/09
18 Month Well Baby Appointment
Today was supposed to be the twins 18 month well baby appointment.
But, instead of taking two happy, healthy, curious little guys in for their regular checkup. Together, Dan and I brought one. Just one. Never again will we experience the chaos that was involved with bringing two busy little boys… twins… to the doctor. That thought alone makes me want to vomit.
Just before leaving... Dan tells me the story of the friend of a friend who called him today to tell him yet another story of Matteo’s life/death making an impact. Apparently, parent of twins… one twin had a high fever. Parents brought child in to the ER, and the child has been there for several days, and they still don’t know what’s wrong. Of course, I don’t know the additional details/symptoms that they shared with the MD’s. It makes me happy to hear this story, of course. That they weren’t just turned away and told to bring the baby home. It makes me happy to know that because of Matteo, maybe another little life is being saved. But… shortly thereafter, I start processing this a little more in my head. “Dear God… what if I would have brought Matteo in to the ER that night? Would things be different? Would he be ok? Would he be here right now? With us?” I cry. I can’t breathe. I sob. I am physically sick.
We get to the doctor. I’m focused on Matteo and why he died. I asked if a child can die from a fever. No. It would be highly unlikely, he said. Fevers tend to top off… never really getting above 106 or 107. The last fever reading I have on Matteo from July 4th was 104.3 at 8pm. I have the entire day documented with fever readings, what he ate, when we gave him Tylenol, etc. I’m a freak like that. The detectives took photo copies of that paper. I still have it. I have referenced it daily looking for some sort of clues.
The doctor continues to tell me again that one of his thoughts is that Matteo had a very rare side effect from the Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease that the kids all picked up at the San Francisco Zoo over the last weekend in May. He said they were the worst cases he’s seen (and our MD has been practicing for quite a while). Matteo’s was by far the worst. He got hit with it first. And the blisters on his feet were horrible... and you could still see visible signs of the blisters two weeks ago. I even blogged about it. It started with a fever that wiped him out. Matter-of-fact, he was more lethargic and sick for the two days after the trip to the zoo than he was the weekend he died. WAY more sick. He took a 5 hour nap on the second day of his fever and then first started feeling better. We thought that fever/sickness was WAY worse than what hit him two weeks ago. Yes... we thought. Anyway… I was told by both the coroner and our pediatrician that in very rare cases the Coxsackie virus can impact the condition of the heart… causing cardiomyopathy. Or, it can cause changes to the size of veins, etc. Please note - I’m no MD… so don’t quote me on this.
Anyway, Dr. O did Rocco’s checkup. Rocco is in good health. However, I did ask to have a referral to a cardiac specialist to have Rocco’s heart looked at via ultrasound. If it turns out that Matteo’s death was the result of a congenital defect… then I worry about Rocco as well. After all, they were both sick constantly throughout the winter. Every other week we were battling bronchitis, an ear infection, and Rocco ended up also battling RSV and had constant issues with bronchiolitis. Dr. O agreed with me on getting Rocco’s heart checked out in more detail… saying it was a very reasonable request. Ok… good. I’m not going crazy. I’m not yet a total psycho mommy. But, I’m sure that’s just around the corner.
How ironic is it that I mentioned to a handful of people that I felt like there was more behind the boys always being sick? Even crazier is that I worried more about Rocco’s health. Matteo always seemed like the healthier of the two to me...maybe just because he didn’t get RSV and battle bronchiolitis as often as Rocco did. I don’t know.
I wish with every ounce of my heart that I would have followed through on my gut. Ugh. But, would I have had Matteo checked out too? Or just Rocco? Through work, I’m connected to some of the world’s greatest physicians and surgeons. All right there… within arm’s reach. UGH, ugh, ugh. If only I could turn back the clock.
Why didn’t I follow my gut then?
Was it because I felt I might be dreaming up some of this stuff in my head? Because when you work at a children’s hospital… you hear the worst of the worst stories. You become somewhat paranoid, for all the obvious reasons... constantly looking more into odd behaviors, bruises, tummy aches, etc. You also hear about absolute miracles. But, you never think… or actually... you HOPE with all your heart and soul, that you will never experience what those parents are going through. Not to mention, what their precious, precious babies are experiencing and battling. Oh, those children. Those dear children. You hear their stories and your heart breaks, you hurt for them. You cry for them. You honestly wonder if you could ever be as strong as them, or if you could ever handle your child being sick with as much courage, strength and fight as those parents do. You admire them for their strength, courage and faith... because it's so strong you can almost feel it in the air.
And, here I am. My child is gone. Gone. Forever. And, I will never, ever know if there is a fight we could have fought.
I would have fought. Dan would have fought. We would have fought HARD. Dan and I would have put on the biggest boxing gloves and fought until we couldn’t fight anymore. We would have done anything… we would have gone into extreme debt, we would have traveled a million miles, we would have done ANYTHING to still have Matt here with us. Right here. Right now. Oh, how we would have fought…
Maybe we will someday know why he died. I really hope, with my whole heart and soul that we will. I NEED to know. We are still waiting to hear back from the coroner. Still. Waiting. And, hating every day that passes with no word.
Rocco’s 18 month growth stats:
Head: 50.4 cm (off the charts)
Height: 33 inches (75th %ile)
Weight: 27lbs 10 oz (70th %ile)
Matteo’s final stats… from the coroner:
Height: 32 inches
Weight: 27lbs
When we got home from the doctor’s office today, I again looked in my Toddler 411 book. You see, I referenced this book after I put Matteo down to sleep, the night he died. I was so worried about the little guy. I was pondering in my head if I should page the doctor for the second night in a row… or if I should take him to the ER. Dan seemed to think he’d sleep it off that night and would be better in the morning. After all, we had lived this fever song/dance throughout the winter months with both boys. A million fevers. A million sick and sleepless nights. How could either of us have ever known that this fever was OH SO DIFFERENT than anything we battled before.
The physician who wrote the book clearly states… a doctor will be more concerned with a child who has a 102 fever and is acting lethargic and nonresponsive, than a child who has a 104 fever and is playing or walking around. Ok. I did read that right. I wasn’t just dreaming.
But now… I’m bruised. I'm hurt. Forever. My child had a fever. A FEVER. And, he died. He should have been there today for his 18 month well baby appointment. But, he wasn’t.
A fever will never be the same. The next fever will probably have me close to cardiac arrest.
And, I will never again have another growth statistic for Matteo Tate. He's forever frozen in time at 17 months and 25 days.
And, that hurts. A LOT.
But, instead of taking two happy, healthy, curious little guys in for their regular checkup. Together, Dan and I brought one. Just one. Never again will we experience the chaos that was involved with bringing two busy little boys… twins… to the doctor. That thought alone makes me want to vomit.
Just before leaving... Dan tells me the story of the friend of a friend who called him today to tell him yet another story of Matteo’s life/death making an impact. Apparently, parent of twins… one twin had a high fever. Parents brought child in to the ER, and the child has been there for several days, and they still don’t know what’s wrong. Of course, I don’t know the additional details/symptoms that they shared with the MD’s. It makes me happy to hear this story, of course. That they weren’t just turned away and told to bring the baby home. It makes me happy to know that because of Matteo, maybe another little life is being saved. But… shortly thereafter, I start processing this a little more in my head. “Dear God… what if I would have brought Matteo in to the ER that night? Would things be different? Would he be ok? Would he be here right now? With us?” I cry. I can’t breathe. I sob. I am physically sick.
We get to the doctor. I’m focused on Matteo and why he died. I asked if a child can die from a fever. No. It would be highly unlikely, he said. Fevers tend to top off… never really getting above 106 or 107. The last fever reading I have on Matteo from July 4th was 104.3 at 8pm. I have the entire day documented with fever readings, what he ate, when we gave him Tylenol, etc. I’m a freak like that. The detectives took photo copies of that paper. I still have it. I have referenced it daily looking for some sort of clues.
The doctor continues to tell me again that one of his thoughts is that Matteo had a very rare side effect from the Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease that the kids all picked up at the San Francisco Zoo over the last weekend in May. He said they were the worst cases he’s seen (and our MD has been practicing for quite a while). Matteo’s was by far the worst. He got hit with it first. And the blisters on his feet were horrible... and you could still see visible signs of the blisters two weeks ago. I even blogged about it. It started with a fever that wiped him out. Matter-of-fact, he was more lethargic and sick for the two days after the trip to the zoo than he was the weekend he died. WAY more sick. He took a 5 hour nap on the second day of his fever and then first started feeling better. We thought that fever/sickness was WAY worse than what hit him two weeks ago. Yes... we thought. Anyway… I was told by both the coroner and our pediatrician that in very rare cases the Coxsackie virus can impact the condition of the heart… causing cardiomyopathy. Or, it can cause changes to the size of veins, etc. Please note - I’m no MD… so don’t quote me on this.
Anyway, Dr. O did Rocco’s checkup. Rocco is in good health. However, I did ask to have a referral to a cardiac specialist to have Rocco’s heart looked at via ultrasound. If it turns out that Matteo’s death was the result of a congenital defect… then I worry about Rocco as well. After all, they were both sick constantly throughout the winter. Every other week we were battling bronchitis, an ear infection, and Rocco ended up also battling RSV and had constant issues with bronchiolitis. Dr. O agreed with me on getting Rocco’s heart checked out in more detail… saying it was a very reasonable request. Ok… good. I’m not going crazy. I’m not yet a total psycho mommy. But, I’m sure that’s just around the corner.
How ironic is it that I mentioned to a handful of people that I felt like there was more behind the boys always being sick? Even crazier is that I worried more about Rocco’s health. Matteo always seemed like the healthier of the two to me...maybe just because he didn’t get RSV and battle bronchiolitis as often as Rocco did. I don’t know.
I wish with every ounce of my heart that I would have followed through on my gut. Ugh. But, would I have had Matteo checked out too? Or just Rocco? Through work, I’m connected to some of the world’s greatest physicians and surgeons. All right there… within arm’s reach. UGH, ugh, ugh. If only I could turn back the clock.
Why didn’t I follow my gut then?
Was it because I felt I might be dreaming up some of this stuff in my head? Because when you work at a children’s hospital… you hear the worst of the worst stories. You become somewhat paranoid, for all the obvious reasons... constantly looking more into odd behaviors, bruises, tummy aches, etc. You also hear about absolute miracles. But, you never think… or actually... you HOPE with all your heart and soul, that you will never experience what those parents are going through. Not to mention, what their precious, precious babies are experiencing and battling. Oh, those children. Those dear children. You hear their stories and your heart breaks, you hurt for them. You cry for them. You honestly wonder if you could ever be as strong as them, or if you could ever handle your child being sick with as much courage, strength and fight as those parents do. You admire them for their strength, courage and faith... because it's so strong you can almost feel it in the air.
And, here I am. My child is gone. Gone. Forever. And, I will never, ever know if there is a fight we could have fought.
I would have fought. Dan would have fought. We would have fought HARD. Dan and I would have put on the biggest boxing gloves and fought until we couldn’t fight anymore. We would have done anything… we would have gone into extreme debt, we would have traveled a million miles, we would have done ANYTHING to still have Matt here with us. Right here. Right now. Oh, how we would have fought…
Maybe we will someday know why he died. I really hope, with my whole heart and soul that we will. I NEED to know. We are still waiting to hear back from the coroner. Still. Waiting. And, hating every day that passes with no word.
Rocco’s 18 month growth stats:
Head: 50.4 cm (off the charts)
Height: 33 inches (75th %ile)
Weight: 27lbs 10 oz (70th %ile)
Matteo’s final stats… from the coroner:
Height: 32 inches
Weight: 27lbs
When we got home from the doctor’s office today, I again looked in my Toddler 411 book. You see, I referenced this book after I put Matteo down to sleep, the night he died. I was so worried about the little guy. I was pondering in my head if I should page the doctor for the second night in a row… or if I should take him to the ER. Dan seemed to think he’d sleep it off that night and would be better in the morning. After all, we had lived this fever song/dance throughout the winter months with both boys. A million fevers. A million sick and sleepless nights. How could either of us have ever known that this fever was OH SO DIFFERENT than anything we battled before.
The physician who wrote the book clearly states… a doctor will be more concerned with a child who has a 102 fever and is acting lethargic and nonresponsive, than a child who has a 104 fever and is playing or walking around. Ok. I did read that right. I wasn’t just dreaming.
But now… I’m bruised. I'm hurt. Forever. My child had a fever. A FEVER. And, he died. He should have been there today for his 18 month well baby appointment. But, he wasn’t.
A fever will never be the same. The next fever will probably have me close to cardiac arrest.
And, I will never again have another growth statistic for Matteo Tate. He's forever frozen in time at 17 months and 25 days.
And, that hurts. A LOT.
7/14/09
Where's my third?
What's next? Where do we go from here? How do we keep going... day to day? Why do I feel like a truck has run me over, at several different points throughout the day? Where is my third child? I know I have 3 kids, right? Where is my third baby... I swear he was just here. I should eat something... or drink something. I feel like I'm going to pass out. It's 2pm and I haven't eaten or drank anything. Totally not hungry. But, I know I need to eat. I eat something. Then, I look at a photo of Matt... or have a memory of Matt. I feel sick to my stomach... feel like throwing up. Food sucks. Everything sucks.
I hate having "extra" time... the time I would have spent taking care of sweet little Matteo... fixing his morning bottle and snuggling him for 2 hours straight. Why do I have free time now? Why do I have more time in my day? Why am I not cleaning up after three kids. Why am I not sitting playing blocks with Matt? Why am I not bathing three kids? Why is bathtime so quiet and calm now? This sucks. I want the chaos back. I want the crazyness back. I want to go through a gallon of milk every day again. I want to see my three babies playing. I want to be busy beyond belief again. Two kids is too easy. I want my third back... where is he?
It hurts to look at two highchairs, a bedroom with two cribs, two sets of some shirts, pants, etc. But, I'm not ready to let go of any of it yet... that would be like getting rid of Matt right now.
Why is it I can't sit down and watch "Go Diego, Go!" anymore... it sucks... Matteo should be here watching it. Where is he? I swear he was just here. Did someone just take him? To figure out what was wrong with him? Then, they'll bring him back to me, healthy, and tell me what was wrong with him... right? I'm waiting... still waiting. Maybe if I look out the door they'll bring him back...
Why does everything seem so abnormal? Will life ever feel normal again? Why can't I focus on a conversation? Why did I give my childhood telephone number when asked on the phone just yesterday what number was best to reach me at. So random. I haven't said that number in so long. Why am I forgetting things? Things I don't normally forget? Why am I so tired? What is wrong with me? Oh yeah... Matteo... he's gone. Right.
Why haven't they called to tell me why he died yet? Did I do something wrong? Why did he die? Did we miss a sign? I should have brought him to the ER. I should have paged the doctor. Why didn't I do those things? What was wrong with him. WHY DID HE DIE? WHY?! What will I tell Rocco someday... "Well, Rocco... in the beginning... you were a triplet... then, you were born with just a twin. Now you're the only one left." How will he feel? Ugh.
Gabby said she felt sick... "What? What's wrong? Are you hot? Does your tummy hurt? Why do you feel sick?" Is she warm? Watch her like a hawk. "Is Rocco acting normal?" Ok... it's ok. Nobody's sick. Calm down. But, what will I do the next time Rocco or Gabby has a fever? Overreact... probably.
We cremated my baby today. My. Sweet. Child. Was. Cremated. We witnessed it. I saw him one last time. I cut as much hair from the top of his head as I could. His hair was different. It wasn't fuzzy like it should be. He looked different. Even more different than on Saturday. It's not him anymore. It wasn't him on Saturday either... but even more not him today. That wasn't my child. My kid's the cute, bubbly, smiley, chubby-cheeked happy kid with a giggle that melts my heart. Best kid in the room. The one any parent would want to steal and could snuggle all night. That wasn't my baby in that casket. Where's Matteo?
They gave us his clothes that he's worn since last Thursday... aka, Day 4 of Hell. We put them in a bag. I opened the bag a few hours after I got home. I felt them... pulled them out. I smelled them. I cried. That's not how he smells. I don't want these clothes. That's not how my baby smells... these clothes smell like death or something. I smelled them again. I cried harder. Yuck. I can't stand this... I hate this. Death. Sucks.
Where's my third kid? I know we have one... where is he?
I hate having "extra" time... the time I would have spent taking care of sweet little Matteo... fixing his morning bottle and snuggling him for 2 hours straight. Why do I have free time now? Why do I have more time in my day? Why am I not cleaning up after three kids. Why am I not sitting playing blocks with Matt? Why am I not bathing three kids? Why is bathtime so quiet and calm now? This sucks. I want the chaos back. I want the crazyness back. I want to go through a gallon of milk every day again. I want to see my three babies playing. I want to be busy beyond belief again. Two kids is too easy. I want my third back... where is he?
It hurts to look at two highchairs, a bedroom with two cribs, two sets of some shirts, pants, etc. But, I'm not ready to let go of any of it yet... that would be like getting rid of Matt right now.
Why is it I can't sit down and watch "Go Diego, Go!" anymore... it sucks... Matteo should be here watching it. Where is he? I swear he was just here. Did someone just take him? To figure out what was wrong with him? Then, they'll bring him back to me, healthy, and tell me what was wrong with him... right? I'm waiting... still waiting. Maybe if I look out the door they'll bring him back...
Why does everything seem so abnormal? Will life ever feel normal again? Why can't I focus on a conversation? Why did I give my childhood telephone number when asked on the phone just yesterday what number was best to reach me at. So random. I haven't said that number in so long. Why am I forgetting things? Things I don't normally forget? Why am I so tired? What is wrong with me? Oh yeah... Matteo... he's gone. Right.
Why haven't they called to tell me why he died yet? Did I do something wrong? Why did he die? Did we miss a sign? I should have brought him to the ER. I should have paged the doctor. Why didn't I do those things? What was wrong with him. WHY DID HE DIE? WHY?! What will I tell Rocco someday... "Well, Rocco... in the beginning... you were a triplet... then, you were born with just a twin. Now you're the only one left." How will he feel? Ugh.
Gabby said she felt sick... "What? What's wrong? Are you hot? Does your tummy hurt? Why do you feel sick?" Is she warm? Watch her like a hawk. "Is Rocco acting normal?" Ok... it's ok. Nobody's sick. Calm down. But, what will I do the next time Rocco or Gabby has a fever? Overreact... probably.
We cremated my baby today. My. Sweet. Child. Was. Cremated. We witnessed it. I saw him one last time. I cut as much hair from the top of his head as I could. His hair was different. It wasn't fuzzy like it should be. He looked different. Even more different than on Saturday. It's not him anymore. It wasn't him on Saturday either... but even more not him today. That wasn't my child. My kid's the cute, bubbly, smiley, chubby-cheeked happy kid with a giggle that melts my heart. Best kid in the room. The one any parent would want to steal and could snuggle all night. That wasn't my baby in that casket. Where's Matteo?
They gave us his clothes that he's worn since last Thursday... aka, Day 4 of Hell. We put them in a bag. I opened the bag a few hours after I got home. I felt them... pulled them out. I smelled them. I cried. That's not how he smells. I don't want these clothes. That's not how my baby smells... these clothes smell like death or something. I smelled them again. I cried harder. Yuck. I can't stand this... I hate this. Death. Sucks.
Where's my third kid? I know we have one... where is he?
7/12/09
"Why did Matatoe die?"
Gabby & I woke up together this morning... quite late... as I seem to never be able to fall asleep before 3am anymore. She woke up happy and giggly and then she layed back down and looked up at the ceiling and started an interesting conversation...
Gabby: "Mommy, why did Matatoe die?"
Me: "Well Gabby... we don't know yet. We know he was sick and had a fever... but we don't yet know why he died."
Gabby: "But mommy.... why did he die?"
Me: "That's a very good question... I don't know why he died yet."
Then, my SIL, Patty, and my mom later told me that Gabby was with them in another room... and she was looking at all the Matteo photo boards we made for the funeral. She was asking what the words were on each of the boards. Then she was telling my mom what the letters were in Matteo's name. I guess she stopped... and started putting her little hands on all the different photos of him. And... she started another conversation...
Gabby: "Why did Matateo die?"
Gammy: "We don't know yet Gabby."
Gabby: "Yeah. But what made him die?"
Gammy: "We're trying to find out... we know he was sick."
Gabby: "I'm just going to fight and kick and keep it away from me. I don't want to die, Gammy... why did he die?"
Gabby: "Mommy, why did Matatoe die?"
Me: "Well Gabby... we don't know yet. We know he was sick and had a fever... but we don't yet know why he died."
Gabby: "But mommy.... why did he die?"
Me: "That's a very good question... I don't know why he died yet."
Then, my SIL, Patty, and my mom later told me that Gabby was with them in another room... and she was looking at all the Matteo photo boards we made for the funeral. She was asking what the words were on each of the boards. Then she was telling my mom what the letters were in Matteo's name. I guess she stopped... and started putting her little hands on all the different photos of him. And... she started another conversation...
Gabby: "Why did Matateo die?"
Gammy: "We don't know yet Gabby."
Gabby: "Yeah. But what made him die?"
Gammy: "We're trying to find out... we know he was sick."
Gabby: "I'm just going to fight and kick and keep it away from me. I don't want to die, Gammy... why did he die?"
Matteo Tate
Matteo (meaning = Gift of God)
Tate (meaning = Full of Cheer)
We certainly named him appropriately...
Mommy's Letter to Matteo
Read by Jodi during Matteo's memorial service/funeral.
****
My Dear Sweet Baby Matteo,
I usually don’t have a difficult time finding words. But, for the first time in my life, I’m really struggling.
So many things to say… and I don’t know where to begin.
My heart is broken. Completely broken. I ache for you with a pain that I have never before known and I’m not yet sure how to manage.
I am so thankful that we spent last Friday together as a family. And, I am so thankful I was able to care for you and snuggle and love you all day last Saturday. If only I would have known that it was going to be my last day with you. I wouldn’t have taken my eyes off of you for a single moment, or ever put you down to sleep by yourself. I would have held you all night long. Even if I would have known you were going to die… I would have held you so you wouldn’t have to be scared, so you would feel loved, and so you would know you weren’t alone.
The night you died… I had prayed to God. I said “Dear God, please take care of my sweet baby Matteo. He is very sick, he has a 104.3 fever and really needs your help so he can get better fast. I don’t know what is wrong with him – but he doesn’t deserve to be sick anymore.” Now, I find myself wondering if that is the moment in which God decided to make you an angel. He took you exactly one year to the day in which you were baptized. How I wish you would have woken me up in that instant so I could run to your room and make you come back to us.
When I first saw you Sunday morning. I knew instantly you were gone and you had been for a while. I knew in my heart and soul that you were now an angel among us. But, I couldn’t put you down. I didn’t want to let you go.
Mommies are supposed to make you feel better. We fix things, give hugs and kisses and help make the pain go away. As your mommy, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from whatever took you away from us that horrible night. I find myself desperately trying to make sense of it all… and that is very, very difficult.
Over the past few nights, I’ve found comfort in looking at the moon and stars. There was a really bright star in the sky on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday night. It was brighter than any other star out there. I hoped and wanted to believe so desperately that it was you… telling me you were ok. You were safe. You didn’t feel sick anymore and you were happy up in Heaven and would watch over us forever.
I find myself constantly yearning and looking for signs of your presence. I hear birds chirping... and I tell Gabby that it’s you telling us “Good Morning”. I see a random bird fly by… and I tell Gabby it’s you just checking in on us. Little Matt… if only you knew how lost I feel right now… and how sad and empty I am without you here in my arms.
Everything about life seems different now. Absolutely EVERYTHING. You’ve changed me to the core of who I thought I was.
In my mind I can still see you clearly. I can smell you. I can still feel you burrowing into my shoulder. I can feel your hair between my fingers. I just can’t believe you’re gone. And, I’m so scared to not see your face clearly anymore and to lose my sense of feeling you.
What I do know is that your daddy and I could not be more proud of who you were.
You were and will remain in our memories, the absolute PERFECT child.
You are a child every parent would brag about. You were the happiest little baby I have ever known. Always smiling and full of hugs and kisses. I loved how I could snuggle up to you for hours and how you would be perfectly content. I loved watching you observe the world you lived in… never in a hurry… just taking in each moment, perfectly comfortable with quiet play time, and interacting with those who loved you. You were as content in this world as you were in my womb. Always a gentle soul… so loving… and an absolute angel from the start.
You were beautiful and handsome and I so looked forward to seeing the man you would become.
For someone with such a short life… there are so many things I already miss.
I miss
* Seeing your big happy smile and hearing your silly happy laugh.
* Your wiggles and dances.
* Your beautiful, handsome face, your golden suntanned skin, your perfect feet and hands and your fuzzy, curly, white-boy fro mohawk hair.
* Seeing you greet your brother every morning with a big smile and a hug and kiss.
* Seeing you throw your right arm up in the air, and yell “Dadaaaaaaa!” to always greet your daddy.
* Seeing Dan hold and hug you, and you nuzzling into his shoulder.
* Seeing Gabby hug and kiss you and love all over you, and you loving it.
* Seeing Rocco kiss you on the lips. Seeing you kiss Rocco. Seeing the two of you hug… and do all those crazy things only twins do.
* Hearing you say “Eyes”… and then reaching over to slowly poke your brother in the eye.
* You burying your head in my shoulder and hiding your face when someone new was within arm’s reach of us. And you pretending like they couldn’t see you just because your face was buried… and then your sudden glances to them with your silly crazy eyes face.
* Seeing you get SO excited to see me, and having you and Rocco fight over me.
* Seeing you play so contently for hours with all your blocks and toys.
* Seeing you ride the rocking horse and cruising on your toy trucks throughout the house and up and down the neighborhood sidewalks.
* Seeing and hearing multiple twin battles take place throughout the day… over toys, blankets, sippy cups and bottles.
* Seeing Rocco steal food off your tray.
* Hearing your precious voice and growing vocabulary.
Matt, I want you to know your precious little soul has touched so many people. You have impacted more people in one week than I could EVER hope to impact in my lifetime. Your daddy and I have received so many wonderful letters from people we know and people we don’t know. We have had so many conversations this week about what people have learned from you. Because of you, more mommies and daddies are spending extra time with their sweet babies... more hugs are being given… more kind words are being exchanged… priorities are changing... and a deeper sense of understanding and patience is spreading around the globe like wildfire. Such an amazing feat for a young little man. And for that, I am an incredibly proud mommy.
In losing you… you have taken away my fear of death. I now have absolutely no doubt that Heaven exists and I KNOW I will see you again someday. I don’t know when… but I do believe and know I will see you again. Knowing that you are in Heaven makes it seem oddly welcoming. I SO look forward to the day I will see your beautiful face again and am able to hold you in my arms. But this time… I will NEVER let you go.
Until then sweet angel, Matt, please watch over your sister, brother and baby Surprise. Keep them safe and please help to guide them in troubling times. Please watch over your daddy and I, and help us find strength in each other while we struggle in this new life without you. Please be a guardian to your cousins, aunts and uncles, grandmas and grandpas, and all of our dear and beloved friends.
Matteo – I do KNOW you are an angel. I know you are with us. And, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting me be your mommy… for sharing your life with us… and for being so perfectly, PERFECTLY you. You will continue to live on in my heart and soul. Forever. And, not a minute of every day will pass without me thinking of you.
I love you sweet precious baby.
****
My Dear Sweet Baby Matteo,
I usually don’t have a difficult time finding words. But, for the first time in my life, I’m really struggling.
So many things to say… and I don’t know where to begin.
My heart is broken. Completely broken. I ache for you with a pain that I have never before known and I’m not yet sure how to manage.
I am so thankful that we spent last Friday together as a family. And, I am so thankful I was able to care for you and snuggle and love you all day last Saturday. If only I would have known that it was going to be my last day with you. I wouldn’t have taken my eyes off of you for a single moment, or ever put you down to sleep by yourself. I would have held you all night long. Even if I would have known you were going to die… I would have held you so you wouldn’t have to be scared, so you would feel loved, and so you would know you weren’t alone.
The night you died… I had prayed to God. I said “Dear God, please take care of my sweet baby Matteo. He is very sick, he has a 104.3 fever and really needs your help so he can get better fast. I don’t know what is wrong with him – but he doesn’t deserve to be sick anymore.” Now, I find myself wondering if that is the moment in which God decided to make you an angel. He took you exactly one year to the day in which you were baptized. How I wish you would have woken me up in that instant so I could run to your room and make you come back to us.
When I first saw you Sunday morning. I knew instantly you were gone and you had been for a while. I knew in my heart and soul that you were now an angel among us. But, I couldn’t put you down. I didn’t want to let you go.
Mommies are supposed to make you feel better. We fix things, give hugs and kisses and help make the pain go away. As your mommy, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from whatever took you away from us that horrible night. I find myself desperately trying to make sense of it all… and that is very, very difficult.
Over the past few nights, I’ve found comfort in looking at the moon and stars. There was a really bright star in the sky on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday night. It was brighter than any other star out there. I hoped and wanted to believe so desperately that it was you… telling me you were ok. You were safe. You didn’t feel sick anymore and you were happy up in Heaven and would watch over us forever.
I find myself constantly yearning and looking for signs of your presence. I hear birds chirping... and I tell Gabby that it’s you telling us “Good Morning”. I see a random bird fly by… and I tell Gabby it’s you just checking in on us. Little Matt… if only you knew how lost I feel right now… and how sad and empty I am without you here in my arms.
Everything about life seems different now. Absolutely EVERYTHING. You’ve changed me to the core of who I thought I was.
In my mind I can still see you clearly. I can smell you. I can still feel you burrowing into my shoulder. I can feel your hair between my fingers. I just can’t believe you’re gone. And, I’m so scared to not see your face clearly anymore and to lose my sense of feeling you.
What I do know is that your daddy and I could not be more proud of who you were.
You were and will remain in our memories, the absolute PERFECT child.
You are a child every parent would brag about. You were the happiest little baby I have ever known. Always smiling and full of hugs and kisses. I loved how I could snuggle up to you for hours and how you would be perfectly content. I loved watching you observe the world you lived in… never in a hurry… just taking in each moment, perfectly comfortable with quiet play time, and interacting with those who loved you. You were as content in this world as you were in my womb. Always a gentle soul… so loving… and an absolute angel from the start.
You were beautiful and handsome and I so looked forward to seeing the man you would become.
For someone with such a short life… there are so many things I already miss.
I miss
* Seeing your big happy smile and hearing your silly happy laugh.
* Your wiggles and dances.
* Your beautiful, handsome face, your golden suntanned skin, your perfect feet and hands and your fuzzy, curly, white-boy fro mohawk hair.
* Seeing you greet your brother every morning with a big smile and a hug and kiss.
* Seeing you throw your right arm up in the air, and yell “Dadaaaaaaa!” to always greet your daddy.
* Seeing Dan hold and hug you, and you nuzzling into his shoulder.
* Seeing Gabby hug and kiss you and love all over you, and you loving it.
* Seeing Rocco kiss you on the lips. Seeing you kiss Rocco. Seeing the two of you hug… and do all those crazy things only twins do.
* Hearing you say “Eyes”… and then reaching over to slowly poke your brother in the eye.
* You burying your head in my shoulder and hiding your face when someone new was within arm’s reach of us. And you pretending like they couldn’t see you just because your face was buried… and then your sudden glances to them with your silly crazy eyes face.
* Seeing you get SO excited to see me, and having you and Rocco fight over me.
* Seeing you play so contently for hours with all your blocks and toys.
* Seeing you ride the rocking horse and cruising on your toy trucks throughout the house and up and down the neighborhood sidewalks.
* Seeing and hearing multiple twin battles take place throughout the day… over toys, blankets, sippy cups and bottles.
* Seeing Rocco steal food off your tray.
* Hearing your precious voice and growing vocabulary.
Matt, I want you to know your precious little soul has touched so many people. You have impacted more people in one week than I could EVER hope to impact in my lifetime. Your daddy and I have received so many wonderful letters from people we know and people we don’t know. We have had so many conversations this week about what people have learned from you. Because of you, more mommies and daddies are spending extra time with their sweet babies... more hugs are being given… more kind words are being exchanged… priorities are changing... and a deeper sense of understanding and patience is spreading around the globe like wildfire. Such an amazing feat for a young little man. And for that, I am an incredibly proud mommy.
In losing you… you have taken away my fear of death. I now have absolutely no doubt that Heaven exists and I KNOW I will see you again someday. I don’t know when… but I do believe and know I will see you again. Knowing that you are in Heaven makes it seem oddly welcoming. I SO look forward to the day I will see your beautiful face again and am able to hold you in my arms. But this time… I will NEVER let you go.
Until then sweet angel, Matt, please watch over your sister, brother and baby Surprise. Keep them safe and please help to guide them in troubling times. Please watch over your daddy and I, and help us find strength in each other while we struggle in this new life without you. Please be a guardian to your cousins, aunts and uncles, grandmas and grandpas, and all of our dear and beloved friends.
Matteo – I do KNOW you are an angel. I know you are with us. And, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting me be your mommy… for sharing your life with us… and for being so perfectly, PERFECTLY you. You will continue to live on in my heart and soul. Forever. And, not a minute of every day will pass without me thinking of you.
I love you sweet precious baby.
Gabby's Special Letter to Matteo
We worked with Gabby on a letter to her brother Matteo. These are Gabby's words only. We read it at Matteo's memorial service/funeral today.
****
Dear Matatoe (pronounced like & rhymes with potato),
I sent Matatoe a balloon... to him in the sky.
Rocco said “I want the balloon” and “I love Matatoe”.
I like him to play with me every day. I love him.
He still is dead, but he’ll come back to us. Don’t cry when he looks dead. It will be ok. It won’t be scary.
I love Matatoe in our whole live hearts.
I love him.
Don’t worry… he can come back to us. He is in my heart. He is in Daddy’s heart. He is in mommy’s and Rocco’s heart. He is in all our hearts.
He will never come back… but he will.
He is an angel now.
He makes the birds chirp for us in the morning.
Mommy showed me his star in the sky… we saw him. Angels are stars sometimes. He will come back to us… he is an angel and angels have powers to be more than one thing. Matatoe is in your heart mommy. He will come back to us.
Right now he’s on our shoulder, but I don’t see him on our shoulder.
I love Matatoe.
Words spoken by Gabriella Grace Martino.
Age 3.5
July 10, 2009
****
Dear Matatoe (pronounced like & rhymes with potato),
I sent Matatoe a balloon... to him in the sky.
Rocco said “I want the balloon” and “I love Matatoe”.
I like him to play with me every day. I love him.
He still is dead, but he’ll come back to us. Don’t cry when he looks dead. It will be ok. It won’t be scary.
I love Matatoe in our whole live hearts.
I love him.
Don’t worry… he can come back to us. He is in my heart. He is in Daddy’s heart. He is in mommy’s and Rocco’s heart. He is in all our hearts.
He will never come back… but he will.
He is an angel now.
He makes the birds chirp for us in the morning.
Mommy showed me his star in the sky… we saw him. Angels are stars sometimes. He will come back to us… he is an angel and angels have powers to be more than one thing. Matatoe is in your heart mommy. He will come back to us.
Right now he’s on our shoulder, but I don’t see him on our shoulder.
I love Matatoe.
Words spoken by Gabriella Grace Martino.
Age 3.5
July 10, 2009
7/9/09
Wiggles & Dance.
I found these two recent videos of Matt and the kids... it makes me sob to see them now. But, I'm so glad I have them.
Make sure you take the time to wiggle with your kid(s) today.
Make sure you take the time to wiggle with your kid(s) today.
Dan recorded this one morning and it's the sweetest thing ever. In the past few months, Dan and I have commented countless times how much fun it is to watch the three kids play together. We LOVED watching them all play together. LOVED it. Literally. We would always talk about how this was the best part of parenting and how we couldn't imagine having less than 3 kids... simply because of how much fun it was to watch the interaction and love between them. And yes, fights too of course. But those were more humourous than anything. We'd talk about how we looked forward to how they'd interact at X age... or how it would be so fun to continue watching Rocco and Matteo play ball together. Rocco always the thrower... Matteo always the catcher. I just honestly can NOT believe I won't ever again be able to see my three babies play together again. It breaks my heart over and over again.
Just wish I had recorded a million more things that somehow I didn't.
7/8/09
Matteo Tate Martino Memorial
Many people have asked, and I now have the information to share.
If you wish to contribute to the MATTEO TATE MARTINO MEMORIAL, please follow the below instructions.
1. Make checks out to: MATTEO TATE MARTINO MEMORIAL.
2. You may send the check to our home if you prefer. For obvious reasons, our address will not be shared here.
3. Or, you can mail a check directly to this address:
ELECTRIC FEDERAL CREDIT UNION
PO BOX 6479
SAN JOSE, CA 95150-6479
Please know that because we do not yet know the cause of death, we are uncertain at this point as to how the funds will be used or awarded.
Many people have also asked if they can bring a meal to us. Yes, you can. And, yes, it will be very much appreciated. More than words can describe. Truly. In the hopes that nothing will go to waste, please contact KATHLEEN HART, who has so kindly offered to manage a dinner/meal schedule for us. She can be reached at kmhart23@hotmail.com or via her home phone #408.395.4787.
Again... thank you for all the hugs, tears, kind words, thoughts, reaching out with your own stories of loss, advice, virtual hugs... and just everything.
Please know that if you have called or sent a note or a text and we have not gotten back to you yet, it is not because we are ignoring you or didn't see or hear your message. This week has been very traumatic, as you know. And, there has been a whirlwind of activity surrounding the planning of Matt's funeral, etc., that is keeping us busier than we would prefer.
Trust me when I say Dan & I are taking the time to reread everything or listen to everything more than once. It helps us and is our current therapy. We feel compelled to respond to and thank everyone for every gesture of kindness and every note or message we've received... it may just take longer than we would like.
If you wish to contribute to the MATTEO TATE MARTINO MEMORIAL, please follow the below instructions.
1. Make checks out to: MATTEO TATE MARTINO MEMORIAL.
2. You may send the check to our home if you prefer. For obvious reasons, our address will not be shared here.
3. Or, you can mail a check directly to this address:
ELECTRIC FEDERAL CREDIT UNION
PO BOX 6479
SAN JOSE, CA 95150-6479
Please know that because we do not yet know the cause of death, we are uncertain at this point as to how the funds will be used or awarded.
Many people have also asked if they can bring a meal to us. Yes, you can. And, yes, it will be very much appreciated. More than words can describe. Truly. In the hopes that nothing will go to waste, please contact KATHLEEN HART, who has so kindly offered to manage a dinner/meal schedule for us. She can be reached at kmhart23@hotmail.com or via her home phone #408.395.4787.
Again... thank you for all the hugs, tears, kind words, thoughts, reaching out with your own stories of loss, advice, virtual hugs... and just everything.
Please know that if you have called or sent a note or a text and we have not gotten back to you yet, it is not because we are ignoring you or didn't see or hear your message. This week has been very traumatic, as you know. And, there has been a whirlwind of activity surrounding the planning of Matt's funeral, etc., that is keeping us busier than we would prefer.
Trust me when I say Dan & I are taking the time to reread everything or listen to everything more than once. It helps us and is our current therapy. We feel compelled to respond to and thank everyone for every gesture of kindness and every note or message we've received... it may just take longer than we would like.
7/7/09
Words. And, thank you...
The past two days of our lives have been the worst. In some moments, it feels like Matteo died 14 days ago. And, in other moments, the memories are so fresh and painful... it feels like 14 seconds ago.
And yet, I don't think Dan or I have ever before felt more loved by our amazing, unbelieveable network of family and friends (old and new).
Isn't it strange and awful... how tragedy seems to make us stop and immediately know what is important in life.
The past two nights, I've spent a lot of time looking at the moon and stars. A very bright star off to the left of the moon, in particular... that seems to have caught my eye. Monday night, I sat in Rocco & Matteo's room in the rocking chair until 2am. I rocked by myself... looking into Rocco's crib - listening to him breathe. I talked to Matteo for a long time. Several times, I swear I saw him. I even saw him standing in Rocco's crib looking towards the window... it was so clear and vivid, I had to get up to try and reach for him. My heart skipped beats. But, he wasn't there.
I sat there wishing he was laying in his crib. His empty crib. Not even a sheet on the mattress. Everything was taken from our home that awful, tragic morning. His sheets, his blankets. I can't even hold them. They took them from us.
I do however have the cute blue "Matteo" towel a dear friend gave to us, which I cradled him and tried to warm him up in after his last bath. Untouched. Unwashed. I also have the fleece jacket I wore all day Saturday... with Matteo's hair still weaved into it in several places. Him and I spent the majority of the day together, snuggling on the sofa, in our morning snuggles position. I buried my nose into the shoulder and took deep breaths today. I smelled my baby. But, it didn't take away my hurt.
Rocco is stressed and it was incredibly evident today. His best friend, Matteo, is gone. And, he knows. Yesterday, Rocco went to Matteo's crib and patted it, saying "No Tao... no Tao" and then layed down on his blankie on the floor... looking in the direction of the now empty crib. This morning... my parents said he looked into the mirror in his playroom and said "Tao, Tao" and then layed down and cried. He has cried more today and acted out more than he ever has in the past. Little things that never bothered him before, bother him today. Everything is more dramatic for him. Tonight, 20 minutes after we put him to bed.... I went to retrieve him (so he could come sit with me & the family downstairs) after hearing him scream "Momma... momma". I went up to check him and he was hovering in the corner looking scared and paniced and crying like I had never heard him cry. A fearful cry. Normally, if he was upset or crying in bed and not going down easily... he was standing, jumping and screaming/crying, boldly.
On Monday night, Gabby spent 15 minutes telling me, Dan, Gammy, Papa, Uncle Dave and Julia, with incredible, explicit detail... all that she unfortunately witnessed that awful morning. I was so saddened to hear her repeat it over and over to us. But, so glad she could tell us in so many words, with such detail... and allow us to explain what was happening. That daddy wasn't trying to hurt Matteo. Daddy was trying to bring him back to life while on the phone with 911.
We continue to be amazed by the outpouring of love from everyone. People we know. People we don't know. Family near and far. Friends we talk to often. Friends we haven't heard from in years but hold in our memories and hearts. It amazes us. And, somehow... it seems to help.
It helps to hear someone cry on the other end of the phone. It helps to hug someone, be hugged and just cry together. It helps to read notes... even if you don't know what to say, and say that you don't know what to say. I mean... what do you say? There are no perfect, magic words. No words will change things. No words will bring our dear, sweet Matteo back to us. No words will make us not hurt or feel this pain. No words are wrong or hurtful. We know you are trying to tell us you love us, that you're thinking of us, that you're praying for us, that you're holding our dear sweet baby in your hearts and thoughts. And, that means everything to us right now.
I wonder if I will ever live another day in my life where I do not start and end my day with crying. I wonder if I will ever again sleep more than 3 hours at night. Every time I wake up, I see Matteo, my mind starts racing, and I can't sleep. I wonder if I will ever be able to feel truly happy and whole again. I doubt it. I wonder if when someone I don't know at a checkout counter or wherever asks me how I am doing, I won't think in my head of replying with "F*&*ing AWFUL... how much time do you have?"
I wonder if I will ever not think of Matteo every single minute of my life... because I honestly HOPE with all of my heart that I do not go a minute without thinking of him. Right now... it's hard to leave my home filled with his photos and happy memories.
We are still trying to understand why Matteo left us. We have no answers yet. And that is additionally painful. My baby had a fever. A FEVER. Why did he DIE?!
I know I will spend the rest of my life trying to make sense of this awful, horrible tragedy.
In a way, I suppose our precious little Matt's life has impacted your lives in many ways by now. We have heard from so many people... around the world and back again. People we know. People we don't know.
Maybe you'll hug your kids tighter. Maybe you'll hug your family and friends tighter. Maybe you'll understand that some of the chaos your dealing with in your day today really doesn't matter in the big scheme of life. Maybe your troubles today will seem less troublesome. Maybe you will stop and smell the roses. Maybe your priorities will change.
What a big feat for such a little man. Truly.
If Matteo has changed you, and made you stop and think about what is important to you... then I could not be a more proud mommy. But... I would do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to have him back here with me... right here, right now... this instant. Yes, I would be that selfish. He was the happiest little man I have ever met. Always smiling. Always wiggling when happy. Always wiggle wobbling his silly little walk while happily following his big sister and brother throughout the house. He was what life is all about.
Dan and I both thank you for taking the time to reach out to us.
Your thoughtfulness will not be forgotten and is helping us through this incredibly, unbearable, difficult time in our lives.
THANK YOU!
Matteo's Funeral Arrangements
Here are the details surrounding the funeral service for our beloved son, Matteo.
There will be no burial service. We decided to have Matteo's remains cremated so he will always be with us and within an arm's reach from our hearts.
All friends and family are welcome at our home following the ceremony.
Many people have asked if they can contribute to a memorial fund. Please know we are working on these details and hope to have this information to share within the next 24 hours.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
St. Mary's Church
219 Bean Avenue
Los Gatos, CA 95030
11am - 1pm: Open casket viewing
1pm: Funeral Mass
There will be no burial service. We decided to have Matteo's remains cremated so he will always be with us and within an arm's reach from our hearts.
All friends and family are welcome at our home following the ceremony.
Many people have asked if they can contribute to a memorial fund. Please know we are working on these details and hope to have this information to share within the next 24 hours.
7/6/09
Very Heavy Hearts.
The past week started with two doctor visits. Dan brought Rocco in on Monday (for some little man issues) and I brought Gabby in on Tuesday. Gabby had a ruptured ear... so crazy... as she didn't even complain about her ear hurting until Monday night. When I left the doctor on Tuesday... Dr. O asked when I'd be bringing in the third, lil Matteo. This was so often the pattern of the past 9 months. Bring one in... then by the end of the week, we'd have brought them all in.The week ended tragically. A way that I still can not even believe. But I know it's real because the pain and sorrow and hurt I feel is all I can feel or even think about.
Our dear sweet angel baby, Matteo Tate, left us to become a true angel.
Matteo came down with a fever of 103.7 on Friday afternoon. We paged the doctor and his advice was give him a bath and Tylenol, which I had already done. I remember Matteo shivering and not happy when I was giving him the bath. He woke up several times throughout the night and Dan got up with him each time. Each time he drank a few ounces of milk and went back to bed. Matteo's waking temperature on Saturday at 6am was 101.7. We got it down to 99.9 around 1pm and I thought he was beginning to feel a bit better as he started playing with Rocco and Gabby instead of clinging to me and just wanting to be held. His fever crept up again in the afternoon and was 102.4 around 2pm and 102.7 around 5pm. By 8pm, it had reached 104.3. But the odd thing was that he was outside with Rocco and Gabby... wiggling around, hitting the ball with the bat, and poking at ants. He was tired though. So I decided it was time to put him down for bed.
Oh God... if only I would have known.
I rocked him while he drank his bottle. He held onto his blankie and he held onto me. He nestled into my chest and breast and looked up at me a few times to make sure I was there holding him. I know he was so uncomfortable and warm. I layed him down on his back, on his blanket and he rolled over immediately, like he always did. He started to stir and whine and cry a little as I was shutting his door. I walked back in... thinking I would need to rock him some more. But, he settled in. So I shut the door. The last time I would ever look at my sweet baby Matteo alive.
The baby monitor was on all night. I hear every single peep and it was silent all night. Both boys slept through the night, or so we thought.
Rocco started crying at 5:09am. Dan went in and put him back down on his back, and he was falling back asleep. Dan went over to check on Matteo. He touched him... and he knew.
I heard Dan yell for me and he had Matteo in his arms. Immediately, when I heard Dan yell... I knew. I don't know how I knew. But I knew he was dead. And, I was immediately in shock and crying and screaming at the top of my lungs.
I held my dead baby. I. Held. My. Dead. Baby. Nobody in the world should ever have to hold their dead child. Or see that. Or have memories of the vision or smells of their dead baby. Nobody. Ever.
I held and hugged him until the police made me leave so they could do what they needed to do. That was followed by the coroner. The hell started at 5:09am and has only continued. I held him and cried on him and cut some of his hair before they took him from our home which now seemed so cold and empty.
We talked with the coroner for a very long time. They are leaning towards two causes of death at this point. One of which is Meningococcal. The other of which may have been an enlarged heart, which would have been a very rare side effect of the Hand, Foot and Mouth disease which all the kids had a little over a month ago. We are hoping to know more at some point today.
Our hearts are beyond heavy. Our heads hurt. Our hearts hurt. I have never cried or hurt so much in my entire life.
Grief has swept into my happy home and heart and has taken over.
Dan and I could not sleep last night. I kept thinking Gabby had a fever or she had stopped breathing. Dan could not bear to leave Rocco without checking on him every hour. We both found ourselves sneaking into his room and pinching him or making sure he was breathing. I found a blanket and pillow on the floor this morning in the twins bedroom between the cribs. Dan had tried to sleep in there last night.
I was awake all night. All. Night. I could not stop playing over and over in my head Dan yelling my name, me knowing... not sure how I knew, but I did. And, the memories of holding my sweet, sweet dead baby boy. My mind kept repeating over and over Meningococcal. Me hearing myself say it. Me hearing the coroner say. Me hearing the pediatrician say it. That word alone haunted me throughout the night.
And all I could do was cry. I cried to myself. Then, I would cry louder and would get up and go to our bathroom and weep. I could only simply ache for my sweet baby Matteo. He would have been 18 months old on the 10th. Today is Dan & my 7th wedding anniversary. And, today is the second worst day of my entire life. And, tomorrow will be the third. And, Tuesday will be the fourth.
The worst days of my life.
Rocco did Matteo's wiggle today several times. He's looking for his brother. I know he already misses his best friend, his twin. Gabby knows her brother is dead. But, she then asks why she can't play with him and tells me she misses him a lot and then she reminds me he will come back to us.
I know he's an angel. But, I miss my baby. I want him back. Here with me.
I guess if anything, I am thankful I got to hold him, snuggle him, and play with his hair and hold his chubby feet all day on Saturday. I'm so thankful I was there with him... all day. And that I saw him happy on Saturday. I saw him play with Rocco and Gabby one last time and I will hold that memory in my heart forever. Even though it now hurts so bad every time I think of the fact I will never see that again.
Not many people know... but I am about 13 weeks pregnant with a baby Surprise. We weren't planning it. We never thought it would happen to us. But, somehow it did and our baby Surprise is due to arrive 3 days after Rocco and Matteo would have turned 2 years old. I'm trying to take deep breaths and remind myself that amidst this horrible, awful, hell we're living right now... I need to stay strong and nourish baby Surprise. It's difficult.
Matteo Tate Martino
January 10, 2008 - July 5, 2009
17 months, 25 days old
Rest in Peace, Sweet Angel
Here are a few very recent photos of our little angel:
And, some from Friday at Gilroy Gardens:
I caught this shot on Saturday... Matt was snuggling his sleepy daddy on the sofa while watching "Go Diego Go!" This photo was probably taken within 12 hours of his death:
And then earlier in the day on Saturday, I guess the kids were hungry for some Fruit Loops... I think Rocco did the deed of spilling them all over the floor. All 3 enjoyed dining off the floor... and then Rocco made the effort to clean it up.
7/3/09
Red pepper flakes will knock you over!
There were 2 pizza boxes sitting on the table yesterday morning from pizza the night before. Rocco was so interested in those pizza boxes... he kept climbing up onto the chairs around the table, and would open and close the pizza boxes.
I was sitting with Matteo on the sofa watching early morning cartoons.
Suddenly, I heard a plunk and then a scream and I jump off the sofa and see that Rocco is laying on the kitchen floor (well... getting up from the floor now) crying. It's so unlike Rocco to lose his balance... that was very strange.
I ran over to him, and found red pepper flakes all over the floor and the table. I held him and he cried and held onto me and then kept spitting on my shoulder. I'm no detective... but I am very sure that Mr. Rocco found and opened one of the little containers of red pepper flakes, tried tasting it and then he was so shocked by the spicey taste that it knocked him off the chair.
I couldn't help but laugh a little once I put the puzzle pieces together. What a little goofball.
I was sitting with Matteo on the sofa watching early morning cartoons.
Suddenly, I heard a plunk and then a scream and I jump off the sofa and see that Rocco is laying on the kitchen floor (well... getting up from the floor now) crying. It's so unlike Rocco to lose his balance... that was very strange.
I ran over to him, and found red pepper flakes all over the floor and the table. I held him and he cried and held onto me and then kept spitting on my shoulder. I'm no detective... but I am very sure that Mr. Rocco found and opened one of the little containers of red pepper flakes, tried tasting it and then he was so shocked by the spicey taste that it knocked him off the chair.
I couldn't help but laugh a little once I put the puzzle pieces together. What a little goofball.
6/22/09
New words!
The boys have been busy working on expanding their vocabulary. Both are doing super great and new words are being said almost daily now. It's fun to see them get excited when WE get excited to hear them say a word.
Matteo seems to have a little trouble with "R" sounds, which is super cute. And, Rocco seems to pick words up a little slower than Matteo, but be very interested in the sounds that animals make (loves to mimic dogs and birds).
Below are a lot of the words they have said more than once. Some of them don't sound exactly like the word... but we know what they're saying. I remember the days of Gabby saying things like "popakickle" (for popsicle) and "mazagine" (for "magazine") and "hold you?" (for "hold me")and not wanting her to ever say things the right way! =)
Matteo words:
Daddy
Mommy
Gobby (for Gabby)
Cocco (for Rocco)
No
Yucky
Cookie
Birdy
Octopus
Cracker (Cocka)
PeePee
Belly
Nose
Ear (eaw)
Car (Caw)
Ball
Owy (as in… that hurts type of owy!)
What?
Baby
Bankie (for Blanket)
Mukky (for Milky, aka milk)
Down
Rocco words:
Dadda
Momma
Gobby (for Gabby)
Shoes (Shewwwzzzzzz)
Cracker (Cocka)
No
Birdy
Ball
Weeee!
Owy (as in… that hurts type of owy!)
Whassssaaaaat (as in “what’s that?”…. and he uses it appropriately so we’ve decided this is truly what he is trying to say)
Baby
Blankie
Muky (for Milky, aka milk)
Down
Pretzel
Matteo seems to have a little trouble with "R" sounds, which is super cute. And, Rocco seems to pick words up a little slower than Matteo, but be very interested in the sounds that animals make (loves to mimic dogs and birds).
Below are a lot of the words they have said more than once. Some of them don't sound exactly like the word... but we know what they're saying. I remember the days of Gabby saying things like "popakickle" (for popsicle) and "mazagine" (for "magazine") and "hold you?" (for "hold me")and not wanting her to ever say things the right way! =)
Matteo words:
Daddy
Mommy
Gobby (for Gabby)
Cocco (for Rocco)
No
Yucky
Cookie
Birdy
Octopus
Cracker (Cocka)
PeePee
Belly
Nose
Ear (eaw)
Car (Caw)
Ball
Owy (as in… that hurts type of owy!)
What?
Baby
Bankie (for Blanket)
Mukky (for Milky, aka milk)
Down
Rocco words:
Dadda
Momma
Gobby (for Gabby)
Shoes (Shewwwzzzzzz)
Cracker (Cocka)
No
Birdy
Ball
Weeee!
Owy (as in… that hurts type of owy!)
Whassssaaaaat (as in “what’s that?”…. and he uses it appropriately so we’ve decided this is truly what he is trying to say)
Baby
Blankie
Muky (for Milky, aka milk)
Down
Pretzel
Rocco laughing!
Rocco must have one of the world's best laughs!
Last night when I was getting Rocco ready for bed, we were playing a little game. Well... I was teasing him... trying to make him laugh. I would slap my face and make a funny, surprised face and then Rocco would laugh really hard. I started doing this after he slapped his own face, making ME make a surprised face and then seeing him laugh super hard.
We did this for a while. I was able to record a bit of it via the Flip camera before Dan came over to bring Rocco to bed.
Now that I think about it... this probably isn't the best game to play with Rocco. Obviously... we wouldn't want him to play the game with the unsuspecting person and have him slap someone else's face. But oh well... I got his fabulous laugh recorded. No regret's here! =)
So cute:
Last night when I was getting Rocco ready for bed, we were playing a little game. Well... I was teasing him... trying to make him laugh. I would slap my face and make a funny, surprised face and then Rocco would laugh really hard. I started doing this after he slapped his own face, making ME make a surprised face and then seeing him laugh super hard.
We did this for a while. I was able to record a bit of it via the Flip camera before Dan came over to bring Rocco to bed.
Now that I think about it... this probably isn't the best game to play with Rocco. Obviously... we wouldn't want him to play the game with the unsuspecting person and have him slap someone else's face. But oh well... I got his fabulous laugh recorded. No regret's here! =)
So cute:
Matteo loves his big sister!
On Saturday while Rocco was taking his second nap, Gabby and Matteo were enjoying a little "Go Diego Go!" while mommy cleaned up the kitchen. We had spent the entire day playing hard outside in the sun, and were fresh out of the bathtub... and our little princess was tired. So, Gabby fell asleep on the sofa. Matteo climbed down off the sofa and walked over to where Gabby was, climbed up onto the sofa next to her and started cuddling and snuggling Gabby while she slept. He would pat her head and say "Gabby" and then lean down and put his head against her and hug her.
It was SO CUTE!!
Eventually, I thought to run and grab the Flip camera, and by that time I of course had to encourage it a little so Matt would continue doing what he was doing.
This is what I got:
Anyway, this info is an entirely different post... but Matteo has recently decided he is now on a schedule that consists of 1 nap daily. There are still 1 or maybe 2 days a week where we will try to give him a second nap, but it is never a long one IF he actually falls asleep. Rocco still needs two naps daily otherwise, he will hit the bed hard at 6pm. Gabby will still nap at school, but rarely naps at home now. If she does nap at home, her bedtime ends up being crazy-late.
It was SO CUTE!!
Eventually, I thought to run and grab the Flip camera, and by that time I of course had to encourage it a little so Matt would continue doing what he was doing.
This is what I got:
Anyway, this info is an entirely different post... but Matteo has recently decided he is now on a schedule that consists of 1 nap daily. There are still 1 or maybe 2 days a week where we will try to give him a second nap, but it is never a long one IF he actually falls asleep. Rocco still needs two naps daily otherwise, he will hit the bed hard at 6pm. Gabby will still nap at school, but rarely naps at home now. If she does nap at home, her bedtime ends up being crazy-late.
Gabby loves reading to her brothers
Gabby loves reading to her brothers. The little fellas couldn't help but lay down on their tummies next to Gabby when they spotted her reading a book on the floor this past weekend.
More and more, I'm finding they to want to do and be a part of whatever it is their big sister is doing. Rocco had to be sure to get right down on his tummy like his big sister. And, Matteo was so excited to be laying right between the both of them.
I'll often find Gabby and Matteo sitting quietly and reading books. They both love to flip through the pages. While Gabby pretends to actually read the book and often tells her own version of the story out loud, Matteo will study everything in the pictures and point and make comments... some of which you can understand.... like "wow", "birdy", "flower".
I have yet to find Rocco sitting and enjoying a little reading time. I have yet to actually discover him sitting much at all. =)
More and more, I'm finding they to want to do and be a part of whatever it is their big sister is doing. Rocco had to be sure to get right down on his tummy like his big sister. And, Matteo was so excited to be laying right between the both of them.
I'll often find Gabby and Matteo sitting quietly and reading books. They both love to flip through the pages. While Gabby pretends to actually read the book and often tells her own version of the story out loud, Matteo will study everything in the pictures and point and make comments... some of which you can understand.... like "wow", "birdy", "flower".
I have yet to find Rocco sitting and enjoying a little reading time. I have yet to actually discover him sitting much at all. =)
6/1/09
Sunday FUNday!
We enjoyed a really fun, relaxing weekend with the kiddos recently.
One of my favorite parts of the weekend was our lazy Sunday FUNday in the back yard. After morning naps... we put all the kids in their swimsuits (Miss Gabby putting her OWN swimsuit on, of course) and let them play in the pool, the water table and the sandbox in the backyard. They had so much fun splashing around and throwing water on each other. We even fed the little monkeys lunch on their picnic table outside.
Gabby is SUCH a great big sister to her little brothers. They just adore her and get so excited when she plays and interacts with them. And, it's so fun to see her play with them, throw balls to them, and include them in her play activities. She makes us so proud.
The most entertaining part of the day must have been when Rocco decided to take a bucket full of water over to daddy and dump it on him. The way he did it was even funnier... it was as if he had watched a lot of championship games on TV, where the players sneak up behind the unknowing coach and throw water on him. Rocco was being so funny trying to sneak up behind Dan with his water bucket. Then, Gabby followed with her bucket... and Matteo was soon to follow with a random container of water. Another funny thing was that by the time Matt would get to Dan, there was never any water left in his container. This "throw water on daddy fun" must have lasted at least a half hour. Here's a few action videos.
One of my favorite parts of the weekend was our lazy Sunday FUNday in the back yard. After morning naps... we put all the kids in their swimsuits (Miss Gabby putting her OWN swimsuit on, of course) and let them play in the pool, the water table and the sandbox in the backyard. They had so much fun splashing around and throwing water on each other. We even fed the little monkeys lunch on their picnic table outside.
Gabby is SUCH a great big sister to her little brothers. They just adore her and get so excited when she plays and interacts with them. And, it's so fun to see her play with them, throw balls to them, and include them in her play activities. She makes us so proud.
The most entertaining part of the day must have been when Rocco decided to take a bucket full of water over to daddy and dump it on him. The way he did it was even funnier... it was as if he had watched a lot of championship games on TV, where the players sneak up behind the unknowing coach and throw water on him. Rocco was being so funny trying to sneak up behind Dan with his water bucket. Then, Gabby followed with her bucket... and Matteo was soon to follow with a random container of water. Another funny thing was that by the time Matt would get to Dan, there was never any water left in his container. This "throw water on daddy fun" must have lasted at least a half hour. Here's a few action videos.
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