"When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part.
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for the moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with your crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?
No she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...."
So before I write anything I want you, dear reader, to realize that this is all part of my grieving process, and I'm am not an evil person. I wouldn't dare pretend to speak for anyone else, as this whole "thing" is so individual... I feel like I might get some quiet judgement for writing this, but it's truly how I've felt, and so here it is...
Until just a few weeks ago, I would have wished away my little girl just to have Jack back. I would think how perhaps if I offered her up to the universe, perhaps I would be rewarded with his return... I would straight up have traded her life for his.
There- I wrote it, it's out there for the universe to condemn me.
I would have given up ever knowing this little person just to have her little brother back and forget any of the things we've experienced in the past year. All of that, just to have him.
But now? Now I couldn't, and I wouldn't. I couldn't give her up. She's given me so much light in such a dark place. Her little kicks and jerks? They give me a reason to smile on the gloomiest of days. I love her, plain and simple. As the weeks slowly passed and the reality of her (hopefully) coming home to live (and keep forever) with us in four months (please), has grown more real, I know in my heart I could never choose. And luckily, that choice isn't mine to make. I love her totally and completely, and without any reservation, completely independent of my love of him.
It's hard, because I still want him with all of my heart. I suspect I will always want him, and long for him and the life we would have known together. In a way, I've been able to accept he was never mind to keep. It's almost like that makes it easier on some level, to know he was only able to be with me temporarily, and if it could only be for a minute, I'm still glad that he was here. I'd do it all over again, even if the same results prevailed. I would never give up on him.
It's heartbreaking to wrap my head around. All this time, the past twelve months which has passed since he was here have been all about him. Of losing him. Of learning to pick up the pieces and create some semblance of a life without someone who was so dearly wanted. Of wanting to make his legacy live on in some way, and I think they way it will be is through his siblings, of which I hope to provide many.
Sometimes I wonder why I didn't get to keep both of my babies... One of the non-BLM blogs which I "follow" had a little girl weeks after I had Jack, and she's mere weeks behind me in pregnancy #2... Her daughter and her new baby will be nearly the same distance in age as Jack and his sister will be... And I wonder, why does she get to be so blessed as to know and love both of her babies? I can't even imagine that level of happiness, completely devoid of broken hearted-ness, and the significant crossing of fingers I have been doing for the past six months just to get to 22 weeks in this pregnancy.
And I feel guilty for thinking about him versus her. I want both, I want both of my babies to be in my arms and in my life. But it isn't an option, and I have to remind myself, consciously sometimes, that loving her does not negate my love for him. I have no reason to feel guilty- that my love for her is because of him, as it is only through losing him I have gained the capacity to love that much deeper, and so I remain thankful for those small little gifts he has given to me.
I love them both. Equally. I will want them both, forever.