Luca's bonnet, urn, memory ring and photo book.
One thing that I've noticed time and time again is how many people are speaking of my strength through the loss of Luca. First of all I want to say that I fully appreciate these words. It makes me think, maybe I am strong...am I doing better than another woman would in this situation? But the problem is, I really don't think I am, not in the least. In fact I have never felt so weak or fragile in my life.
I am simply working through the motions the best I can. Some days are better than others, but that can quickly be followed up with a day worse than the past few. I can't do any more than that. I feel that any woman in this position can only be dragged with the current in the same way. None of us are any stronger or weaker than the other. There is absolutely no nobility or cowardliness in any of this.
Because I can write about it does not mean that I am any stronger than a woman in the same position that couldn't fathom the thought. Each of us has our own way of working through things. We are at the mercy of time and the fleeting presence or absence of hope. All in the same boat, but with different sets of tools.
I have thought about this for weeks and have come up with one comparison that makes sense to me.
Picture yourself riding a bike. You are suddenly hit by a car. Pinned under that car, you are being dragged for dozens and dozens of meters...and from the sidewalk you hear someone yell, "YOU'RE DOING GREAT! YOU ARE SO STRONG!!!"
Basically, you're at a loss...it's not that you don't appreciate the sentiment. But you just don't get it. At all.
There are so many things I had hoped to be strong enough to do by now. I bought a proper urn for her ashes and yet, have not been strong enough to open up the original box again and transfer them over. I can't even picture throwing out the little green box that the funeral home gave her back to us in. It's nearly unfathomable to me. Because she was so small, it's a tiny amount of ashes. I'm terrified to lose even a single particle, and can not touch it.
Another part of being "strong" is facing the other, more lucky women around you.
I have four friends in my life right now who are pregnant. Some of them with due dates painfully close to what should have been Luca's. I will be completely honest...watching them go through their journey while mine was cut short is very painful. I see the gender reveal parties, the baby showers...I see how my belly would have looked if she were still with me. I feel robbed of all that joy, and moreover I can't help but wonder, "Why only me? Why me..?."
But the merciless bottom line is that being jealous will not change any of this.
More importantly, the love that I lost was my own daughter...not their children. And I would never wish such a tragedy on my own worst enemy, never mind my own friend. So while it does hurt in the sense that it reminds me of my own loss, I am sincerely happy for those more fortunate than I have been. It is my greatest hope to give their babies playmates someday, to be a fellow Mom. And I know in my heart when I am able to join their ranks, they will be very, very happy for me.
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