Thanks for all your good wishes! My poor husband basically didn’t sleep last night, getting a panic attack whenever he was about to fall asleep. Which is probably a fairly normal reaction after being told that there might, possibly, be something wrong with one’s heart, but not helpful for getting the much-needed rest. I’m sure he also has some unresolved sadness about losing the girls; who wouldn’t, 5 short months out. And probably the fact that I’m pregnant again, while wonderful, also raises all sorts of worries in him. (I recently got an email about “7 fears of expectant fathers”, and thought like, I’m fairly sure his main fear isn’t listed in there…)

I stayed home with him today (luckily my job lets me do that) to be there just in case, and for moral support. When we took a nap in the afternoon, he still struggled to fall asleep, while I slept soundly for 2.5h… but he did get some sleep, so I hope we are on a path to improvement.


This morning on my way to a meeting I saw birds fly in a V shape. Then they changed formation and made a skewed W.

When anyone presented on a Mac, I often got a glimpse of the A galaxy before their actual slides started.

I’m probably overinterpreting things, but I love those little reminders of my girls.


I’ve been talking to and writing emails with a number of people that try to comfort us. Many wish us strength to “get through this”. From others and from previous experiences with grief I do know that it does get easier, with time. However, the problem with “processing” or “getting through” this experience, this loss is that the words seem to imply that we’ll be done with this process at some point. And, honestly, I’m not sure we ever will.

I’m very grateful they write, it’s not that. I’m just struggling to find words to describe how profound of an experience this is, how deeply it touches us. It may be the difference between “getting back to where we started from” and “finding our new normal” without even a map of the landscape, as I read elsewhere.