The Beginning

I was carrying twins and everything was going great. Then at almost 21 weeks my water broke. I was in the hospital on bed rest hoping and praying that all would work out but knowing that one of the twins (the boy) was critically low on fluids and would likely not survive even if I was to hold off labour for weeks (preferably months) because his lungs would not be able to properly develop.
But then at 23 weeks (Saturday May 3rd) the unthinkable happened... I went into labour (and didn't even realize it... I thought I had severe constipation and was screaming for a laxative or enema!!) I couple of hours later at 7:49am I gave birth to my first born son... Cole. I could barely comprehend what had happened. I was in shock and tried desperately not to cry hysterically as I felt that would induce my girl. My husband and I held Cole as he sucked his thumb and moved his perfect little fingers. He looked so small and yet so perfect... why couldn't they do anything for him I thought. After two hours of not going into labour again they shipped me off to another hospital in order to better the chances of the second baby (or so we thought) and I left my husband and Cole behind. Eventually, after Cole passed, my husband joined me at the other hospital and I was told that I was back to 4 centimetres.
Things looked good that I may be able to hold off labour for a few more weeks or better yet months. But the next day the cramps came back (nowhere near the excruciating pain with the first so I was not worried) and without even realizing it I was back to 9 centimetres. Eventually at 2:10 am on Sunday May 4th I gave birth to my beautiful little girl Breanna... she had my chin and looked just like me. Again, she looked so perfect but just small but we had discussed it and decided that her life would be horrible if we tried to sustain her. So once again my husband and I held her as she periodically gasped for air and less than 30 minutes later she passed.
The next few days are a blur of being at the hospital and planning the funeral of our two babies that we had all these hopes, dreams and visions of the future for. We dreaded the funeral and reception to follow, but actually found it quite therapeutic having people around us to talk about anything and everything... In fact as the last people left we almost didn't want them to leave. The next day I felt so much better. I had finally slept since I went into labour 5 days earlier. I think I finally could get some rest now that my babies were laid to rest. But since then I feel like I have reverted back to being a blubbering mess rather than moving forward. I have turned borderline OCD cleaning and organizing everything in my house and talking with my husband about our feelings... well mostly my feelings as he seems to have become emotionless but is very supportive in listening to me. We've gone to the store to run some errands and the stupidest things make me break down and cry which is so embarrassing and I feel awful for my husband and anyone around us.
It has now been a week since their passing I don't even know what to do with myself... we've left a message to join a bereavement group but are waiting to here back. Our friends were all really supportive at the funeral but I feel awful calling them and having them feel uncomfortable around us... especially with me on the verge of break down around any corner. I decided that maybe writing a message on here might help me deal with the loneliness and make me feel like I am actually talking to someone that I don't have to worry about their feelings and how my story might make them feel uncomfortable.
This was originally my first post on the Grief & Loss board which I wrote on May 11th at 9pm. I have since decided to keep a blog of my posts and my feelings.