Two Sides.

I’ve been gone too long.

There hasn’t been a day that has passed where I haven’t missed writing and the therapeutic value of sharing my feelings in this never-ending journey that is being a loss parent. Mothering Luca has still been ever-present, but in a much different way. And tonight, sitting in the dark with my wife next to me asleep with babe in her arms while feeling like I want to lay my face into the covers and scream, I’ve decided it’s time.

Our sweet rainbow girl joined us at 8:46 am on Tuesday, September 2nd. Though still extremely traumatic, with a NICU stay and 48 hours until I could hold her skin to my skin, her birth was wonderful and full of love and joyful anticipation.

She came into the world with a cry, and I turned to Gina and asked “is that our baby?”. It was such a surreal moment in time. For a second right then, and many times over since Elia was born, I couldn’t help but think of the difference in their births, mostly the silence that was in the air when Luca made his entry into the world. Elia went immediately to meet the nurses that would clean her up and Gina never left her side. Luca went immediately from my womb to machines and cold gloved hands.

I was able to hold and sit beside Elia within a few hours of labor. I didn’t get to hold Luca until the doctors and nurses brought him to me to die.

I am overjoyed with the love I feel for this little rainbow babe. At in that same moment, I am utterly devastated experiencing everything with Elia, that I will never have with Luca.

It eats away at me some days. The postpartum hormones don’t help. Once again, it’s an isolating feeling, but now in a bit of a different way. I finally have something to connect with other mother’s about; I have a living baby. But it certainly doesn’t make it any easier to share with other mothers when I have this secret. I hesitate to witness their response. Will it be empathy, or complete apathy?

There are some amazing women around me. And yet I can hardly get the energy up to surround myself with them. I am so lucky to have this miracle in my arms, and yet the sleep deprivation and hormones, and the ever-changing needs of my babe have rendered me physically and emotionally exhausted.

All I want to do is make her smile, soothe her, nurture her, and be the best mother I can possibly be to her. I want to give her everything. I know I am giving her everything. Every little piece of me.

I just wish I could give all of myself to both of my children.

But I count my blessings and realize how lucky I am indeed, to be the mother of these two unique souls in whatever way that looks from the outside, or the inside.

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8 thoughts on “Two Sides.

  1. I’m so happy to hear of the safe arrival of your rainbow! I too experienced the elation and sadness that came with parenting living child(ren) after loss. The light and darkness, the hope and despair are forever intertwined for moms like us. Please now that your biggest sorrow will be matched by the your biggest joy and you are a great mom to both of your children.

  2. I am so glad to hear your voice again through your mothering, Carla. I relate so much to all that you write, and you share it with such truth and heart that it opens me to feel it again and also to feel the fullness of all of my emotions. I too experience elation and sadness, light and dark and feel it all forever intertwined as well. And I feel my biggest sorrow matched by my biggest joy. You are giving all of yourself to Luca and you are such a great momma to both of your children. Thanks again for sharing, Carla. Hugs to you, dear friend.

    • Oh J, I miss you! I still think of those early days, and the first time you sat down with us. You gave us such hope, and made me think that not only could we survive the devastating loss of our boy, that we could still be mamas to a living child. The dark and the light, whether or not we ever consciously wanted it, has become our norm. Much love J. Hope you and the family are well.

    • Thank you. I believe our children that have passed, will always be missed members of our family. I want Elia to always know of her older brother. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t be here. Wishing you love and light on this journey.

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