I've been dreading today since Luke passed. Today was his due date. Today, sometime this week, if I was late, I was going to give birth to my perfect little boy. I kept myself so busy today and at one point I thought I was handling today better than I thought I would. That was till about an hour ago. It hit me like a wave. Where is he? Why did this happen? Why did my water break early? why did he get sick? Why did he have to die in my arms? Why? Why? Why?

My home is too quiet. No new born cries or baby sounds. The sleepless nights are here but for the wrong reasons. I wake up from nightmares, not a babies cry.

I'll never make sense of this, I'll never forgive the universe for taking away my son.

Certain dates are so hard. Well, most days are hard, but these big dates are the worst. I feel like there's just no telling when and how exactly the grief will wallop me. I'm a day late and I'm not sure if you'll see this, just know there's a fellow loss mom grieving your loss tonight. I wish your baby could be safe in your arms. I hope you've been able to find a bit of peace and rest for your heart these last couple of days, despite the odds.

Thank you Leah,
The best days seem to be the numb days. I thought of your post today when I saw another video my friend posted of her husband and baby just enjoying the day. I try not to look sometimes because it's simply too hard, but I guess in a way I look because I want to see what it's like to have that joy. She had her baby a little over a month before I was supposed to have Luke.
I turned off social media and stared around my quiet living room and realized that all the photos I have of him are on my phone. I found a really nice frame online and I decided to do a collage of Luke. His voice may not ring through my home but his face will decorate it.
Thank you for your words. I find Glow to be my refuge. Other's seem tired of hearing me say the same thing over and over. At least here I'm with people that understand.
Sending you love back.

"I try not to look sometimes because it's simply too hard, but I guess in a way I look because I want to see what it's like to have that joy." This. I felt this so deeply. Sometimes it's like poling at a bruise. I know it's going to hurt worse, but I can't seem to stop myself.
I love your collage idea. We had some pictures of my daughter at her funeral and I love having them in my house now. If I can't have her in my arms, at least I can see her sweet little face.

I completely understand that. This week has been so trying, the college is taking longer than I thought. It's so hard to pick photos to fit some frame when all I wish is to hold him like I see so many doing with their children online.
Hardest thing was unfollowing a friend this week. She sent me a photo and a video of her embracing her child, that look of pure peace on her face. I'm not sure if this will make sense, if I look at photos on my own it's one thing, but having someone send them to me directly when they say they understand what I'm feeling? I find it insensitive. So, I took my husband's advice and simply unfollowed her and shut off my messenger. She won't see that I unfollowed, I don't want to hurt her feelings. God this sucks. I cried so much today while alone at home. I couldn't help it, when I'm alone it's just so quiet.

That makes perfect sense. Having some control over when I'm confronted with other people's baby pictures is one of the few ways I can be gentle with my heart. I need it to be on my terms to survive the pain. I found out one of my cousins is pregnant. They weren't even actively trying. I know it makes no medical sense, but sometimes I swear the death of my daughter turned every woman in my orbit (except me) into some kind of fertile Myrtle.

"Fertile Myrtle". Yup. Everyone around me seems to be pregnant or already with children. Even if I'm not related to them. On my way to an appointment the other day, there were so many seats near me and this woman with two children, a new born and a two year old parks herself right next to ME. And in my case it's always a little boy. I find I have to wear headphones and watch a show to detach from my surroundings.
I had someone actually say to me "I hope you feel better soon". I don't understand that saying, I'm not sick, I don't have a cold or the flue. There is no getting better, I'm trying to cope.
I put Luke's collage up. Even hanging it up was a long process. I wish I could change all of our realities so no one ever needed to grieve their child because non of us would have lost them. I shouldn't say lost, we didn't lose them they are still with us just not physically.
Sending hugs.