Mornings

Mornings can be the hardest. Waking up and knowing he’s not here, wanting so badly to feel him, it eats my soul.

I become this crazed person.

Why? Why did this have to happen to him? Why us? How is it that so many other people have their babies, and this boy, who we waited for and prepared so much for, had to die?

It’s unfair. It’s cruel. It breaks me down. Every. Day.

I want to walk down the street with him. Hold him, kiss him, feed him, love him.

But he’s not alive, and I can’t do that. It’s never going to happen with Luca.

I face this in the morning and have to get through the rest of this day.

 

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