They are everywhere, these heart bombs. Sometimes they appear with a memory, sometimes they show up when I look in the backseat where there is an empty space that once held a car seat.
Sometimes they sit on my chest and stop my throat when I see a newborn in a wrap, or most specifically a baby boy in a Tula.
Other times it happens when I step out of the shower and see this great big scar under my belly, a scar I would take 100 times over if I could get more time with him.
Today at the market, we saw a women from our birth class and her baby boy. She was due just a week after me. We passed her pushing her sweet pup in his stroller, looking so proud of her child, so proud to be a mother.
I wish I could be her. To be so proud and loving, the fierce mama that I want to be, to a living child, a living Luca.
All these milestones, these events, these sights. The pictures of friends and their newborns, those who were going to be a part of Luca’s life. The silence from people around me who won’t speak his name.
They set off these explosions in my heart. They crack me open, leaving me exposed, raw. Lonely.
I’ve been told this contraction that my heart is feeling, is going to one day allow for this magnificent expansion. Think about it…….. our muscles contract and then expand, tighten and then loosen. From this hurt and loss, will come so much love and compassion, because our hearts will be so much bigger that we got to love him and be his mamas.
And yet, I can’t wrap my head around this, because at just three months out I get caught up in the why? Why did this have to happen? Why him? Why us?
Still, with all the sorrow and pain, I feel such immense love and gratitude for having had the opportunity to be Luca’s mother at all.