The Presence of My Son

We are on the plane heading home from our trip to NYC, and I’m listening to music on my playlist while trying to conquer level 29 on Candy Crush in an attempt to zone out. I hear these songs I know so very well and a million thoughts start flooding through my mind.

This was meant to be the trip where Gina and I introduced Luca D’oro to the people in our life that mean so much to us; having our loving community meeting the newest member of our family. That is what I planned in my head, what I pictured our summer trip to be.

I go to NY because my inside magnet pulls me there and I want G to experience it all with me.The city is familiar and home to me, and though I haven’t lived there in years, I like to go back and see our loved ones, and feel the city and the people. Central Park, meeting all his aunts and uncles and cousins, Fire Island, the best pizza, his first sense of this electrical energy that the city holds, MoMA, subways, salsa classes in Union Square, rooftop movies, Archie, the Brooklyn Bridge, Christopher Street, that was all on the agenda.

Maybe he would remember none of it, but the time would be well documented by his mamas, and who knows? Maybe his internal gps would have been synced, and he would be like me, so very drawn to my first home.

We walked through the streets of New York City without our pup, and I saw mamas and their babies, families who were experiencing with these little people. They were molding their children with these experiences. I wanted that with Luca. I hate that I don’t have that with him. I think about how beautiful he was and how I wish he was in our arms while we galavanted through the city, and I get so mad that can’t happen with him.

It’s not all a pity party. And believe me, I am in complete agreement that if anyone is allowed a fucking pity party, it’s a parent that has lost their baby. So….that means us. If I feel like I need one, I will send myself the invite, regardless of what some of you may think. But I’m starting to gain a little strength at this point, and move forward with hope and knowing that someday we will be together again, and that there has to be some exciting shit headed our way after the ridiculous series of events that has ripped our son out of our arms.

C’mon universe. C’mon Luca, help us out.

And everyday is still a roller coaster. I will be seemingly ok for a moment and then….. Well.

I hear a song that brings me back to that place, like I’m hovering over that last scene we had in our earth story together. Me in the hospital bed, G next to me, Luca in our arms, taking his last breaths. My chest contracts when I hear them, the lyrics and melody move me. Sometimes I feel like this is Luca presenting himself to me, letting me know he’s with me.

The song Breezeblocks by Alt-J comes on, and I’m singing the chorus over and over, the lady next to probably thinks I’m crazy. But I feel like I need to do this. Sing this song. Cry. Feel it all. Every second of it. For me. For Luca.

Please don’t go, please don’t go
I love you so, I love you so

Please don’t go, please don’t go
I love you so, I love you so
Please break my heart

Please don’t go, please don’t go
I love you so, I love you so

Please don’t go, please don’t go
I love you so, I love you so
Please break my heart

Please don’t go, I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so, I love you so

Please don’t go, I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so, I love you so

I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so
I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so

I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so
Please don’t go, I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so, I love you so
Please don’t go, I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so, I love you so

Luca was with us though this week, ever present in everything we did, in every smile we cracked, in every tear we shed, just like he will be for the rest of our lives.

I know you are with me, but I sure do miss you Luca D.

http://vimeo.com/m/39430834

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