"I'm so sorry guys, I have bad news to share. Twin A has passed away. His heart could not take it after we stopped the transfusion. He passed away sometime in the night" The doctors delivered this news to us in a semi-circle around my bed, like a movie scene.
"We're so so sorry" they said, and we knew they were. I wept deeply and intensely and the team left the room after sometime.
Not more than 2 minutes after they left the room, our hospital phone rang."Who is that calling right now?" I asked my husband, sad and pissed off.
He picked up the phone. It was his company. They had a grief support program. They wanted to send their condolences and offer support. I wanted to say lots of curse words because all I could feel was anger and despair. I couldn't even think about wanting to "grieve". I don't want to even be in this place where I have to grieve at all.
Obviously, I had no mental capacity to know how much that phone call would lead my path through grief. This phone call would give me access to the most incredible professionals. My therapist and spiritual guide through this mud and muck I had never been through before and had no navigation tools. I have since read every book, listened to every podcast, joined any support group that fits, whatever they recommend, I do.
This book opened my eyes on the days when I constantly questioned, "why me? why us? we are good people, aren't we? why? why? why? When it hurt so bad and I could not wrap my head around this all."
I know this phone call was fate.
