Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.
Before October 2012, I’d never heard about it – or if I did I didn’t care much. It wasn’t a day I wanted to acknowledge because it had to do with being sad and dead babies and – just no.
Here I am now.
The first year I was angry. Angry that I even had to be a part of this day at all. I wanted my babies back, I wanted my life back. I didn’t want to send off balloons or light a candle, I wanted two cribs, carseats, and to be exhausted.
Last year I’d added Kaden to the list. Three. I was a bit more ready to say something that day, share their pictures, defy anyone who would dare to tell me that Preston and Julian weren’t just as much my babies as he was.
This year I am numb. I didn’t really even give this day much thought. I am not lighting a candle or adding their names to a balloon. I’m still having trouble comprehending that they’re all gone. Over a year later and even saying Kaden’s name makes tears pour down my cheeks. I’ll readily admit I am in a much different place in his loss than I was with the twins at this time with them.
I think of having another baby, and I’m stopped cold by this thought:
It will never be Kaden. Never. He’s never, ever coming home. All that time. He never even came home, and no baby will fill that gap.
They’d fill a baby gap. A second motherhood gap. A sibling gap.
But not one of them would fill the gap of my little boys.
Today I sit and think of them – my would be two year olds and one year old. Who should be here? Who wouldn’t if the other was? What would they be like? Would having Kaden have eased my heart enough with the twins for me to “move on” and feel a bit more normal?
I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. They’re not here, they never will be. I cuddle with Bella on the couch and look at our little life and what I do know is the three of us are still here and still remembering. Today and everyday. Nothing and no one will ever take the place of the three little boys we fought so hard to keep.