I have tried to write a "where I am right now, 18 month out" post. I've tried a dozen times, at least, to write it, but nothing seems quite right. I can't find the words. I've read almost all of the posts you have all written, and yet have barely commented on them. I read them, saved them as unread so I can think about them and to come back to later. This morning I accidentally hit "marking all as read" on my reader. In reality, some of these posts are three weeks old and I haven't made it back to comment, so I'm just going to leave it. I'm an asshole. I'm sorry.
As for where we are, it's not as though I miss him any less after this time has passed. And while his sister has certainly helped to fill the void left in terms of a physical baby in my arms, she isn't her brother and it still hurts so very much he isn't here, too.
I feel like this is all I can say these days- I miss him. I love him. I wish he were here. It's incredibly painful to know he can never be here again.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Most days, I know I am incredibly lucky to ever have just been blessed to have him. I still don't know how we got through it, because I just can't imagine what I would do if something were to happen to Grace. It's not necessarily that it's harder to fathom because I've seen her smiles and felt her wet kisses and her incessant nursing... But in some ways her arrival has made Jack seem almost imaginary. Like how is it possible we birthed a baby, brought him home, and then he got sick and died, all within days? How does this even happen? Imaginary, that's not the word- I know this because it hurts to even type that.
Those days of losing him in the hospital have blurred around the edges, and if I hadn't lived through those painful days, I don't know that I could believe just how awful and excruciatingly painful it is. How we ever left the hospital without him is beyond my comprehension... How any of us have survived this is still so surreal... I try to avoid thinking about the process of signing the papers at the funeral home, or ordering the urn... It hurts too much to go there in my mind. So these days, I've given myself permission dismiss these thoughts as soon as they enter my mind.
I still can't believe I had a son and he is gone. How is this possible?
I want more babies, and although Grace is still in her infancy, I'm already beginning to miss the little things she's outgrown all the while being so excited for the here and now and the "what's to be". I definitely continue to have baby fever despite the baby in my arms who is not yet 7 weeks old. I think about how I will forever be playing "catch-up" in terms of the number of babies I should have. I've heard that when you're done with more babies, you just "know" your family is complete. See, I have trouble with this thought- because how is it possible when my first baby is missing?
Then there's the other part of me which just thinks, "cut your losses and run", or "be grateful for what you do have"... I'm so lucky to have have what I have, so very lucky. I know this. I just want more. I want what I should have had, and I can't.