I have stopped following most mom or parenting related groups on social media. As a form of self-preservation, I need to not be always seeing and reading about pregnancy and babies.

Because we can’t have any more biological babies.

Because I’m still missing Luca, my child that will always remain in my memory, as my baby.

I stay away from most groups because sometimes the grief is even too much for me. I have come to realize what is an unneeded trigger. And if I’m in a dark time already, I don’t need to challenge myself anymore.

I am so beyond grateful to have Elia. I am so lucky because she has given us so much love and healing. As I try to be as present and loving to her while she grows, I find myself remembering Luca less and less.

I can’t tell you how painful of a sentence that is to have to type.

There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about him. But I forget. And he seems far away now.

And though I may appear to be doing okay on the outside, there are times that hit me so hard. Sometimes completely out of the blue. Mostly in the days leading up to his birth-day every month, but other times when it’s completely unexpected. The grief comes over me like a heavy blanket, closes my throat, both comforting and stifling. I know it so well already that it’s familiar and I know what to do with it.

Most of the time I hold the grief myself. If I’m lucky, and many times I am, I have a friend who checks in and ends up holding some of it for me.

But often when the grief rushes in, there is no way for friends to know, unless I had one of those med-alert buttons to press signaling the need for help, or I could relay a bat signal.

So when I read on the internet of a mama friend feeling the sadness around the fact that her daughter would be entering kindergarten in the fall, I immediately send her love. I think about how that must feel.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. Her daughter is just weeks older than Luca, and for the first time, I realize that Luca would be starting kindergarten in a month.

I’m fucking devastated.

I’m sad for what was supposed to be.

I’m sad for what will never be.

And I miss my son.

I look at pregnant bellies with envy. But I don’t want what they have, I just want Luca.

I look at families with a 5 year old.

Or siblings.

And I wonder.