Our Gentlemen

My Story of Twin Twin Transfusion Syndrome

I walked in the front door after a long day of work exhausted. I sat down on the couch and my wife came over with a small gift bag. She sat down next to me and told me how she got me a gift. I pulled out the tissue paper and removed a small box. Inside the box was a tiny little pair of Converse. My wife and I own a good variety of Converse so, this was her fun way of letting me know we were expecting a baby. I was so tired I was confused, so it took –a few minutes for it to click in my brain that I was going to be a father with the woman of my dreams. Overwhelmed with joy and excitement I grabbed her and hugged her tight.

I already have two kids of my own, but it was my greatest dream to have one with the greatest person to come into my life. We tried for months, watched ovulation dates, and did everything by the book with no luck. We figured if it was meant to be then it would, so we left it in God’s hands. God shined his light, and before we knew it, my wife was pregnant. We were finally about to build a family.

Laughing, I looked at her and said, “I bet we’re having twins.” With wide eyes, she looked at me and said, “Why would you think that?!” It was an easy guess considering her grandpa, her aunts, and her cousins were twins. My family has never had twins, but felt in my heart we were having twins.  We wanted to be sure that we weren’t getting ahead of ourselves or our hopes up, so we bought 8 pregnancy tests, digital, analog, and 3 different brands. They all came back with the same answer, we were pregnant.

A few weeks later we went into the doctor office to get the official word from the doctor. I never told my wife but my heart was beating out of my chest and my hands were trembling from excitement and being nervous all wrapped up in one ball of emotion. This was too good to be true!. The woman I love more than life itself was going to raise a child with me. I kept praying in my head, let the heartbeats be healthy and strong. I said heartbeats, because I was certain it was going to be twins. My wife and I entered the room, and she climbed up on the table for the ultrasound. I knew what I was looking for. It would be a little fluttering and blinking light on the screen which means there’s heartbeat. As the ultrasound technician was scanning, I saw it, and instantly saw two. I shouted, “Oh!” This scared my wife and she wanted to know what was going on. The tech smiled and said, “He already knows what I’m about to say, there are two hearts!” My wife, absolutely shocked, shouted, “Oh my God.” I start laughed because I knew she was surprised and let’s face it, your wife is usually always right and I completely called it. I was so thrilled that I was going to have two little babies. The tech explained by what she could gather was that they would be identical. Identical blessings. 

Everything was going great besides the fact my wife was sick. She didn’t just have morning sickness. It was around the clock sickness. Her sense of smell increased tenfold. I stand on my feet all day at work so right when I’d get home I’d go wash my feet. They weren’t nasty, but she was so sensitive to smell. She never complained though. She worked through it, was mindful of what she was eating, and even stayed away from drinking regular tap water. 

We had a couple ultrasounds already, and we were going in for her bi-weekly check-up. While they were checking the ultrasound, the tech became very silent. It was so quiet that we both knew something wasn’t right. I could hear my own heartbeat my ears. I was then very aware I could also hear my breathing becoming quick and shallow from fear that something was very, very wrong. Everyone was always so excited to see our twins. Breaking the quiet, she said, “I’m sorry I’m quiet but I’m getting different NT scans.” Obviously we didn’t know what that meant at all. We came to learn that a NT scan measures the thickness on the back of the baby’s neck. At the time, we were calling them Baby A & Baby B. Baby B’s NT scan was past the normal standards. We asked what this meant and the tech said that it’s an indication that the baby might have Down syndrome. My heart began to hurt. I could envision one my children coming home from school excited about their day while our other child was picked on, hurt, or having to attend a different school for special needs. I was shrouded in pain and fear that I may have to watch my child struggle with their health. One of my precious children would possible have an incredibly hard life. 

 I wasn’t upset for any other reason than the fact that this could mean a very hard life ahead of them. We would love them unconditionally for sure, but I was so scared for them and the other health complications that could follow. My wife was sad and distraught for the same reasons. She was crying so I had to put my fear aside and comfort her. I’m naturally an optimistic individual, so it was easy reassuring her that everything was going to be fine. The doctor explained how this could also mean heart defects which was just as painful to hear. As we drove home we were pure silence. It was so quiet in the car that I could hear every tear falling from wife’s face and splashing off of her clothes. I was trying to bury my fears and stay positive. I don’t have any close friends so I had to figure out how to deal with this on my own. I bottled it up and refused to believe this was the case.

I was supposed to go on a trip to Las Vegas for work, and I cancelled. We needed to go back to a specialist to have them read the NT scan again. As we went in, my heart was racing uncontrollably from fear but I remained calm, cool, and collected on the outside for my wife. I sat next to her as the new ultrasound tech did her scans. She smiled and said they were both within the right measurements. The biggest sigh of relief swept over me. We’re good. It’s all going to be fine … I thought. They finished the ultrasound and told us that the doctor would be in to discuss the results. First they sent in a “Genetic Counselor.” This threw me off because I just thought I heard everything was good. My relief was instantly gone. She was talking about things like “…selective termination.” All political and religious beliefs to the side, I was already attached and couldn’t believe she was bringing this up. Thankfully, the doctor came in and I was thinking, “Ok, he’ll tell us this is all ok.” He began explaining that Baby B was actually measuring bigger than Baby A. How is this possible if they’re identical? He explained that sometimes one baby grows larger and they level out and actually catch up to each other’s sizes after they were born; however (which is a word I absolutely loathe now) this could be an early indication of Twin Twin Transfusion Syndrome and began to explain it. He Then began talking about doing an amniocentesis to balance the amniotic fluid but of course putting a needle in a woman’s pregnant belly comes with risks. Both babies could die from such a procedure. He didn’t think that would even be something we needed to consider for a few more weeks. The hearts and babies were healthy. We could go home and think about it. 

The weeks passed. We were going every week for a new ultrasound and a new update. Baby B was getting bigger than Baby A and there was no balancing. Every visit ended with babies’ heartbeats are healthy and strong. Baby B was always dancing and very active. Baby A was always camera shy. So calm and just relaxed. At one time Baby B was kicking Baby A in the head and we laughed saying what a bully and Baby B would be immediately grounded when they got here if they didn’t behave. 

Once we discovered that the babies were identical boys, Baby B became Jackson Finn Borchers and Baby A was Grayson Gregory Borchers. Jackson was always on the move and showing off for the cameras. Grayson was still so calm and relaxed and would literally turn away from the camera to never show his face. They were our boys. Each of them like each of us. As a man, finding out I was having two more sons was so exhilarating. All the men things we would be doing together! I immediately started calling them our little gentlemen. To this day I can’t find the right words to accurately describe the joy I was feeling. 

My wife was still sick all the time. She never had a break, and I tried so hard to help any way I could. She was such a trooper and I fell more and more in love with her watching her dealing so much pain and sickness but still never one time complained. After every “however” I had to reassure it was going to be ok. I was optimistic with their strong little hearts and little personalities everything should have been fine.

Everything changed for the worse when we went in for her to have a full on exam. It was expected to be a minimum of 3 hours for the boys’ full checkups. They started by doing an ultrasound for her cervix. The nurse looked and after a short minute or so she said, “I need to get the doctor.” My heart sank. All I could think was, please God, no. Please let them be ok. The doctor came in and examined her and then explained she was dilated. She was only 19 weeks along. She started crying and I had to put my fear aside and assure her it was going to be ok. They explained they could do a cerclage. They were literally going to go in and stitch her cervix closed. They took her downstairs to explain how the procedure would go. We had to wait another 24 hours to make sure that no infection occurred since her cervix was open. We really didn’t sleep that night. We stayed in the hospital and just waited to be taken downstairs for the procedure. When the time came, they rolled in an ultrasound monitor to check the boys before she went under anesthesia and wheeled her bed into an operating room. There they were. Healthy and moving. This could be the last time I see one or both of them. I was so terrified and the fear hurt my heart so bad. I couldn’t show this because my wife needed a rock. She needed me to be an anchor. I told her I loved her and they rolled her away.

I walked around and nervously waited. It didn’t take long but she was back and the doctor said everything went great. The doctor kept saying he was very pleased. My wife was groggy and out of it but all she wanted to know was if the boys were ok. They rolled the ultrasound monitor and screen back in to check on them. While they were viewing them, Grayson, my shy little guy looks directly at the camera for me to see his little face and when everyone else looked to see him he turned over. Like he just wanted me to know he’s ok so I could let everyone know. I’ll never forget seeing his face. We stayed in the hospital and the doctor came in to let us know everything went so well.  I was like finally, we’re in the clear, FINALLY! Then, came the “however.” He was still concerned the boys were developing more and more into TTTS. I had been researching this relentlessly. I had researched the procedures to reverse it, the procedures to help, and how it was so rare, so even with the chance of it being TTTS I remained optimistic soon I was going to learn I was just naïve.

We went back a little more than week later and the boys were still progressively growing at different rates and sizes. The doctor said we needed to go see another specialist. The specialist needed to talk to us about going in with a laser to offset the blood vessels on the placenta so that he could even out the blood flow. 

While we were talking about the procedure with the specialist, we received more “however.” We could do the procedure but there was a high likelihood that we may lose one of the boys and possibly both. If we didn’t go through with the procedure, there was an even greater chance that we’d lose both boys. Stuck with two very tough decisions, we went home expecting to be back a few days to do the procedure. 

I’ll never forget the night that changed my life forever. My wife was having discomfort and pain but she was insisting it felt like a UTI. She kept feeling like she had to pee, but nothing was happening. It was just a lot of pressure on her uterus. She called the doctor and they said to be safe just come in. So we drove 45 minutes to the hospital to go see our special team of doctors that had been working with us. 

When we got to the hospital, they put us in a room, and told us that the doctor would be in as soon as she could. We waited, waited, and waited some more. Finally, after what seemed liked years, the doctor came in. They put a contractions monitor on her because UTIs can cause false contractions. The doctor then went to examine her cervix. She checked and said, the words which I will never forget, “I hate to be the one to give you this news but you’re dilated to 7 cm.” My heart went to my throat and then plummeted back past my chest to my gut. My wife yelled out, “Fuck!” We both began crying and sobbing. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. There was no hope, optimism, and no positivity any more. Then at the same time the guilt hit me for being so naive being so optimistic all the time. I was such a fool. Such a fucking fool. I was about to lose both of my sons. 

After they gave us some time they asked if she wanted to deliver the boys so we could see them. I couldn’t imagine that we could, in their words, “vacuum” them out. I was so attached I couldn’t imagine their life ending that way. My wife looked at me and we both agreed that not getting to meet our gentlemen, and hold them as they went to heaven would be a regret we wouldn’t be able to live with. I was trying so hard to keep it together for my wife, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bottle or escape the absolute pain of this reality. I was sobbing. I loved them so much and all the visions and hopes were being ripped away from us in such an unfair way. 

The doctors told us they were going to move her to a delivery room so I stepped out and called her mom who got in the car to rush to our side and then I called my mom. I’ve never heard my mom cry in so much pain which hit me even harder. This is our unfair and horrible reality. I had to tell her that soon my boys would be here and they would be gone shortly after.

It was when she made it in the delivery room that I started having immense fears of how they were going to look. I was so scared we were going to see them in pain and that their skin was going to be transparent, or they wouldn’t look human. I had to see them though. As my wife laid on the bed, I bent over her stomach and told them how much I loved them. I told Jackson to look after Grayson as he was bigger and for both of them to watch over us. They put in an epidural for my wife and she broke down even more because the numbing now was in full effect and she could no longer feel them moving. They were very much alive and still active but she lost all ability to feel them. I never told my wife this but I was mentally panicking. Were they scared and confused? How could this be happening that very shortly they would have their little lives taken before they began? Would they be in pain? Even though the doctors said they wouldn’t feel pain and would drift away quietly, how could they really know what my sons felt? I sobbed.

I stepped out of the room for a minute and when I came back in they said, “Do you want to be in here?” My emotions, adrenaline, and everything was fully pumping at such an insane rate that I didn’t even realize what they had said and walked back out. I thought they were removing the cerclage, or doing something I didn’t need to be in there for and suddenly realized what the words meant. She was about to push.

I rushed back into the room and grabbed her hand and sat by her side. I told her I love her and she began to push. Grayson Gregory Borchers was born at 7:11 a.m. weighing 12.2 ounces. I couldn’t look. I was so scared that seeing him really would finalize this even though this was already final. I wanted to wake up so bad. This had to have been a nightmare and I just needed to open my eyes. But I didn’t. This was our life now. Jackson Finn Borchers was born at 7:19 a.m. weighing 1 pound 1ounce. He was 39% larger than Grayson. I thought to myself, “That’s it. They’re here. It’s over. After 21 weeks and 4 days of my wife being pregnant. Our lives came to a complete pause March 27th, 2019 at 7:11 a.m. and 7:19 a.m.”  Every painful, horrifying, depressing emotion hit me at once.

I finally looked up, barely able to see straight from the pain in my heart and my eyes. I felt nothing else. I saw two perfectly precious little boys. Our boys, my boys, my gentlemen. They didn’t look disfigured or unrecognizable. They were perfect. Their tiny little hearts continued to beat for nearly two hours as we held them. We told them how much we love them, would miss them, and to please watch over us and walk with us. 

For the rest of the morning, throughout the day, and into the night they stayed in the recovery room with us. Giving us the closure we needed. I then remembered I was going to have to tell my 10 year old son and 8 year old daughter that the twin brothers they were so excited to meet and play with were in heaven. They have never experienced death. They’ve never been to a funeral. I realized their first experience of pain from death was going to be from their little baby brothers. 

I’ll never forget my son’s reaction. He lives 8 hours away with his mom, so I had to call him. The cry he let out ripped myself and my wife to the core. To hear such pain and anguish from a child on top of the last 24 hours of pain shattered me. My daughter broke down too and cried. The pain in my son’s cry that night is something that will never be unheard. I live every day with a fear I don’t speak about. That my son will question my ability to protect him if I couldn’t even save his baby brothers. It eats at me every single day.

Over the next few days we had to start making decisions of what to do. I had let my wife’s employer know what happened and they began outpouring so much love and support for us. When I let my boss know I got a “Sorry to hear that.” Nothing else. That’s the moment the anger really started to boil over. I was angry at the world, God, and anyone who had babies. We were supposed to be finalizing the baby shower that weekend and now we were in a funeral home planning on what to do with the boys who caused no harm to this world. 

We decided to have the boys cremated so no matter where we go they will always go with us and not in a cemetery, where if we ever move out of state in the future we would only get to be with them when we came back. They’re in a sky blue urn the shape of a heart with “Our Gentlemen” written on the front. 

Over the course of the next few weeks of grieving it became absolutely apparent that society, friends, and family didn’t know how to deal with grieving parents. It was even worse for me as a man. I’m not complaining but stating the reality of the situation. Majority of the time people would tell Melissa how sorry they were for her loss. Sometimes they’d back up and be like, “Oh, and Dan too.” or “As well as Dan.” The best example of this was when I wrote something like a eulogy on my Facebook. I wanted the world to know about my sons so their legacy would live on as well as they weren’t getting an obituary. The post was linked to both our Facebook accounts and the outpouring of love for Melissa was definitely felt. People I didn’t even know were commenting they were so sorry for her loss. That’s when the isolation kicked in.

My wife wanted me to open up. I just couldn’t around her, not yet. She was grieving so much that I didn’t want her to feel like I wasn’t stable enough to be her rock. I still broke down in front of her from time to time, but I really just stayed quiet. Nothing I said or did would change what had happened. There was no real logic to it. We were warned that this could be TTTS for weeks and nothing was ever really truly done to stop or prevent it. Later to find out this isn’t rare and the procedures are not anywhere near as successful as websites claim. Learning from other grieving parents of so many twin pregnancies who had been through the same situation. I was angry all the time. I wasn’t on a short fuse because there was no fuse. I would explode on anyone at any time. I felt alone in the world. Lost. I couldn’t help my wife, I couldn’t bring back my sons, and I couldn’t escape the pain. My emotions and mental state were in chaos. 

I thought going back to work, and getting back into a routine would help. It was the worst decision I could have ever made. It should have been a clear indication of how this return was going to be from “Sorry to hear that” to the people who continued to reach out while I was grieving with work related questions. I had asked my boss to tell everyone to give me space. They continued to call. I called his boss who had no idea what was going to ask her to tell them to stop. They still continued to call. I had asked my boss to help me file a Short Term Disability claim because unfortunately I still had bills regardless of my tragedy. No response. Then when I updated him that I still wasn’t ready to come back his response was, “When do you think you will be back?” I replied with “You let me know how long the healing process takes and I’ll give you a date.” I’m pretty sure he realized what he said was senseless because he said, “You can take the whole month if you need.” Ok, the whole month. But still no guidance or help with Short Term Disability. I had to return to work.

My first day back I found out quickly how unsupportive my “leader” was. I needed two people hired while I was out and had positions open. I had asked my boss to help my store out and help with the interviews as I personally recruited a few people to come work with me. He just needed to interview them or have my assistants interview them, determine if they’d be a good fit, and if so offer them a position. Instead I came back to pandemonium. Short staffed and no help from him the whole time when I was gone. Like I said I didn’t have a fuse and so just I exploded. I called him asked him why didn’t he help? His reply, “That’s not my job.” I asked, “You couldn’t help?” “No it’s not my responsibility, that’s your assistant’s job.” Then I asked him, “Why didn’t you help them then?” That’s when he proved he was so helpful with, “I sent them an email.” This is not what I wanted to come back to work to deal with. He then asked if my assistants were there and that we needed to have a “meeting” to discuss our performance and communication.

There was never a “How are you?” Actually, to this day he still hasn’t asked. But what happened next made me realize that men are not expected to grieve. We shouldn’t have sorrow. He shows up with another district manager that I’ve never met. I text my wife and said, “I think I’m being fired because two district managers just walked in.” They ask me to step in my office with them and the first words out of the other district manager’s mouth were, “What’s your problem? Why do you have a chip on your shoulder?” Absolute shock and complete disgust followed by pure anger. This became a “meeting” of being belittled, challenged, and insulted, and it lasted for over 90 minutes. It was so loud that the employee’s customers could hear the “meeting” in the shut office, in back of the building, all the way in the front of the building. It ended with them saying sorry for your loss after I gave in, shut down, and just completely stopped talking. It was the only way to get them away from me. Nothing mattered to them. I didn’t matter. My kids didn’t matter. I, and I quote, “… was going to need to learn to leave my personal life at the door because we have a business to run.”

So on top of the grief, sorrow, anguish, anger, and isolation I now completely despised my leader and since he represented the company I despised the whole organization. They didn’t know how to deal with me. So my leader just stayed away from me unless the team’s performance wasn’t meeting standards. Only then did I hear from him and then it was all business. On the flip side I had my team. They poured out so much love for my wife and I and they even bought and named a star after the boys. A very big deal for me as I love astrology.

Adding to all of the emotions from everything and with the addition of stress and frustration from work a lot of people I called friends instantly vanished. My family was around, but my family is also spread out all over America. I had friends I’ve known for a decade who literally never reached out once. They’d only respond if I called them. I had 4 people who I realized are more than friends that helped me get through it without losing my sanity. My wife of course but honestly I didn’t and couldn’t rely on her 100% because she was grieving and I needed to be her support. Brandon is a friend of mine who would text me every day. He would send me a message just asking how my day was today. He would say something as simple as, “I love you brother.” Those messages meant more than he knows. The second friend was Kashy. She lives in Spain. Even being all the way in Spain she would check on my wife and I, ask how I was doing that day, and would let me vent if I needed to about my anger and/ or frustration. She’s half way across the world and still was reaching out more than my so called friends locally here in the states. The third person is Corey. Corey and I worked together. We went from being co-workers, to friends, to brothers. Corey gave me space while I was out so I could focus on my wife. When I came back to work he would let me talk about my boys. He’d encourage it. Letting me vent, showing him pictures of the boys and really letting me express myself helped me more than he even realizes. Until he reads this, I never told him how much he helped me. If these 3 weren’t around with the combination of my wife’s love and support, I honestly don’t know how I would have ever survived this.

This experience has shown me so much about our society and corporate America. Part of the complete lack of empathy, compassion, and support is because grief is considered taboo. Consoling a male during that time is even worse. Even with the support I did have I still bottled a lot up. I remember one night, I dreamed of the boys. It really messed with my mind. I was happy that I saw them but it’s really a bitter sweet to this day. The pain of waking up and realizing it was a dream was so overwhelming. I texted my wife and said, “I just don’t want to talk today.” I just wanted space. I was ready to explode again because there was no fuse. I didn’t want her taking that hit. When I got home she insisted that I open up. I didn’t want to. I wanted to just go numb. I just wanted the anger to be gone. I just wanted my boys here. I broke down and told her how I angry I was. She wasn’t mean or angry about it. I’m sure she was frustrated but she talked to me so calmly that she got me to open up. One of the very few people in this world of getting me to vent my feelings. Because a man in America talking about feelings and emotions makes you weak. That’s even with people who claim “Real men talk about their emotions.” Through this experience I know this saying isn’t sincere. It is just a way of making themselves look open to communication but honestly don’t know what to do with the information. That just made me shut down even more. I literally had to put a disclaimer on my Facebook and social media that if I laugh at something or post something I find funny, it doesn’t mean I’ve moved on, or I’m not depressed. It just means I’m trying to laugh again so my boys can see my smile from heaven.

Since this tragedy in which TTTS robbed my wife and myself of our sons, I have cut numerous people completely out of my life and moved on without them. I struggle a lot of the time with faith and religion. Growing up in an Evangelical church, going 3+ times a week, I know the Bible and I know all the religious quotes. But I struggle more than ever. How can God allow this? How can two boys who would have a great couple in love, a couple so in sync with one another that they don’t even argue, and a couple who were going to share their love and passion with life just have their babies’ lives stopped short? Where was our miracle? Meanwhile we read of a miracle about twin baby girls in Iowa being born at 22 weeks and then surviving! Then on the on the other hand reading stories about parents who abandon their children, choose drugs over their children, and or abuse their children emotionally and physically. So we don’t get a miracle while the scum of humanity ruin children’s lives. How could I not question God? The only thing that gives me faith or hope is that my children’s spirits are alive and well with God. That when sin was allowed to enter this world, that God no longer had control of circumstances. When miracles happen that they’re not miracles directly from God but actually just dumb luck. This tiny thread of hope is the only reason I haven’t completely turned my back on God. Even though I challenge him still with my questions for understanding with no clear answer.

Today I just mask the pain better because I’ve come to accept 3 things.

1. I cannot change what happened. Period. No matter what I demand to know and even if I was given answers I cannot change it.

2. People don’t care about grieving parents and they especially don’t care about grieving men. So if I break down it’s only in front of my wife or on the way to work or on the way home. This is why I blare music in my car. The more aggressive or angrier it is the better. It drowns out my thoughts. My logic is that if there aren’t any thoughts there won’t be any pain. It doesn’t work, but I try.

3. I only talk to my family (Mom, mother in law, brothers, & sister) or my wife, Brandon, Kashy, or Corey. No one else matters. Honestly, if they never talk to me ever again I won’t lose any sleep over it.

I won’t proactively talk about anything unless asked outside my circle of family and 3 close friends. Society, which includes the people I thought were friends, doesn’t care because I’m a man. I need to get over it is the impression they give. I don’t care about other people’s problems. Someone complained their Great Uncle died. Sorrow is sorrow and I get that, but I was candid when I said, “Be thankful you got so much time on this Earth with him.” I didn’t say in a derogatory way but my sons got two hours. He lived a full life. Grieve but celebrate his life. I only got to celebrate my boys for 21 weeks and 4 days because of Twin-Twin Transfusion Syndrome. Such a “rare” and “uncommon” issue.

I’m always angry still because I came back to work too soon. I didn’t open up enough with my friends to really get my pain off my chest and still haven’t. I still break down a lot but I do it in isolation. The anger has backfired and I have since been moved to a smaller location. I work for one of America’s wireless companies and ran a store that saw 4500+ customers a month. It was considered an A store. I had a team that was family and helped my return. My upper leadership was so bad that I threw being politically correct out of the window. It put a target on my back. Think of having a herd of cattle. And in that herd you have some prime Bulls. One is sickly and not looking up to par and isn’t responding the way it should. My leadership’s decision to “deal” with me was put me in the smallest and slowest store which is considered a C store. On a good month we will see 400-500 customers. That’s a really good month. I went from a staff of 10 employees, 2 assistant managers, and a supervisor to having 4 employees. They took the bull who was just starting to get healthy and threw him in a shed to isolate him even more from everyone and everything that was actually helping him heal. That way they didn’t have to “deal” with me. They said, “We think this move will be good for your personal life. It’s slower and a better opportunity for you to have a work-life balance.” My first week I worked 6 days and a few of those from open to close. So I’m working more just to be a stand in body at the store. This company recruited me from being a district manager running 10 stores at a competitor to get me to flip a struggling store paying more than any manager in our region and possibly the country just so I’d come over. Promising me how much they cared about their employees and within a year I would easily be a district manager again. Most days I wish I wouldn’t have sacrificed my leadership position to leave and to than in turn be treated like a complete waste of space or in reality a grieving man. When they told me of the switch I just said whatever. Move me. I’m done fighting, arguing, and being shamed for not being politically correct when the whole situation was mishandled. Corey quit because of how everything was handled. Stating in his two week notice how he didn’t like how I was treated on my return. It went to my district manager and human resources. No one followed up with me.

There’s a lot more to say. I have a lot more emotions to express. I think that is it for now though, I just want other men to know they’re not alone. That just because society says you need to suck it up and be a man and be the rock to your significant other, you’re not alone. The loss of a child is devastating. The loss of two children is unfathomable. Losing them to something that everyone said wasn’t a cause for concern because it’s too rare like TTTS is detrimental to your soul, faith, and heart. Any man reading this, you’re not alone. Any woman who has a husband that’s been through this, he’s not alone. For people who read this who know someone that has gone through TTTS or child loss in general, please use this as a guide of what not to do and what to do to help them through the pain and anguish. The isolation from the world is very real. Just because someone seems ok or back to normal, they’re not. They’ll never be the same. They’re masking it or are thankfully already getting support. But they will be forever changed as I am.

I do want to emphasize my gratitude and thank those who have not only helped myself, but my wife, and the doctors, nurses, and funeral home who treated our boys with such care and love. Thank you to those who took time to reach out and show their support to me specifically. Thank you to all the people who have helped my wife through her grief.

My name is Dan Borchers and I lost two sons to TTTS on March 27th, 2019. I miss them, what could have been, and am in pain every day. I love you Grayson and Jackson and can’t wait to be reunited with you some day. Until then I just ask you stay with me, give me strength to move on in this fucked up world and console your mother with me.