It's amazing how life is forever changing. One minute you feel like you will never be able to move on and then the next minute you are happier than you have ever been. I will forever be somewhere in the middle. I will never be able to say that my life is perfect, because it is not. I will never say that my life is horrible, because it is not.
I live a life that borders on complete utter sadness and pure perfection. One hand I have a dark hollow spot in my heart that will forever be in my chest, but on the other hand I have the most beautiful, amazing gift anyone has ever given me. All of this making up my every day existence.
After Luke I didn't know how to move on, I didn't know how to balance my grief to a level that would allow me to live the rest of my life. I was tormented with the idea that the pain would forever be so raw that happiness would never be apart of my life again. I remember the pain was so intense that it numbed me for months. Kinda like when someone is put into a medical induced acoma so that the victim wouldn't have to experience the immense pain. My body just froze.
Then one day, almost out of the blue I decided that I wanted to have more children. The fear and anxiety that came with that decision was almost as intense as the grief. I remember thinking so many different things - what if I can't love another child as much as I loved Luke? What if everyone, including people in my own family would somehow forget Luke? What if this new child thinks they are a "replacement" child? What if this baby looks just like Luke? What if its a boy? Oh please don't let it be a boy because then it's like Luke is gone and this new boy will overshadow him and my memories of Luke will be gone forever.
"It's a boy." That's the first thing I remember them saying when he came out. And the second thing I remember was - he looks just like Luke. And in that moment, all the fears I had about having another little boy, having Luke being forgotten, not feeling like I could love another child as much as I love Luke all disappeared. All of it. And in that same moment I felt an even deeper love and presence of Luke. It was like his little brother Levi was brought to remind me of how much Luke was still very much apart of us. It was amazing how within those moments all the fears of "replacement" and "forgotten" were gone completely.
The first few weeks of Levi being home I was too tired to think of all the little things that still made me sad. Slowly the grieve crept its way back in. I am torn between feeling the happiest I have ever been in my life, to still feeling this deep gash in my heart. I have moments when I am nursing Levi at night, right before he goes to bed, when he is all cuddly and warm from him bath, smelling so soft and sweet - loving and cherishing these moments and hoping that I will remember them forever. But then it hits me out of now where. This sudden surge of sadness, realizing how much Luke and I missed out on all these precious moments. Wishing that we too could have enjoyed these special times that only a mother and child could share.
I am torn between two drastically different emotions but I know this it how it will always be. It is the unfortunate card I was dealt. It is the life of a mother who's baby has died.