Welcome to the Blue Butterfly Blog

Thousands of families suffer in silence from the loss of a pregnancy or an infant. My struggle is just beginning. I carried twins to term knowing that only one would survive. This is the story of my journey through shock, devastation, grief, anger, and hopefully someday acceptance. I know that other families are desperate to know that they are not suffering alone. This is for them.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

You'll Be Happy Again Someday

When Dr. Amburgey gave us Spyder's diagnosis at our first ultrasound with her, she said, "this is the lowest you will ever feel. You will be happy again someday." When I told my friend, Jen, who had lost her own son as a newborn, she said "the way you feel right now will not last forever. You'll feel happy again someday." Chaplin Diane, Kamil, the other doctors at the hospital in the days surrounding Spyder's birth and death all assured us that we would be okay. Someday, we would feel happy again. I am only now beginning to think maybe it could be true.
I am still sad; I am still unprepared to face the reality of our loss. But, today the sun came out. It shined through the car windows as I drove Poppy to her 2 month checkup. I could feel its rays warming my cheeks. For a few seconds, I delighted in this simple joy. For those seconds, I felt happy.

I want to be happy and I can put on that happy face when I need to. Usually, when someone politely asks me how I am doing, I say that I'm just fine and that I'm healing. It is only an unlucky few that get the truth. I have a pain in my heart that I don't think can be healed and a guilt in my mind from being unable to do anything to save my son. For hours each day, I remember those few moments when I held him on my chest in the delivery room, staring into his listless eyes. I see Spyder every time I look at Poppy. I hold her all day long to make up for the fact that she no longer has her wombmate to snuggle close to. They should have been best friends. My interactions with Brad are timid and full of self-doubt. I'm waiting for something to crumble though I'm sure my anxiety is unwarranted. If I am not occupied with work, tv, a book, or Miss Poppy, I am crying. It's not postpartum depression that does this to me; I am just sad.

But, for some reason, today I am starting to believe that things will get better. The sun will continue to rise upon more beautiful days that I can share with Brad and Poppy. I look at my baby and I see that there is light in the darkness that shrouds my life. For the first time, I think that maybe I will be truly happy again . . .someday.


  1. Hi Lindsay,
    You don't know me but I'm a fellow twin mom from Sandusky and I found your blog on the Register's site. I just want to tell you how sorry I am for your loss but I love hearing how well you are coping (and truthfully saying when you aren't). Spyder and Poppy are so lucky to have you as a mommy:) I want to recommend a website www.twinstuff.com They have a great grief forum for mommy's just like you and I also think you would be great at helping other twin mommy's in your situation.
    You have a beautiful outlook on life and I wish you and your husband the best with Poppy and any future babies:)
    *Kim Wright

  2. Hi Lindsay,
    I found you just be doing a search for Thanatophoric Dysplasia. I am a fellow mother of a son with TD. My little boy, Daniel, was born last may and lived for 32 minutes. I just wanted to let you know that there is a Facebook group with others who have been through this. It is a closed, private group, and I have found it to be the very best place for love and support from people who really understand what you are going through. https://www.facebook.com/groups/ThanatophoricDysplasia/

    Lots of love and hugs to you!