Boys

I've said it before, but you know what sucks?

Feeling bad about feeling bad.

Here we are...it's been almost 3 years since we lost you, Luke, and so much has changed. Life has done a complete 180 since you died. And so much of it has been about things getting better--Adding happiness to our lives. The clouds have parted, and I can't even describe how much joy Lena brings to us. She's just...amazing, for lack of a better word.

But you know what's still always there? Lingering?

Jealousy.

I hate it, because I'm not a jealous person. I'm so so not. But there's something about little boys...about seemingly everyone else around me having their own little boys...that just...eats away at me.

Since September 2012, so many babies have been born. But for some reason, in my circle, the people I'm closest to have produced so many boys.

Believe me when I say I'm happy that they're all here and healthy and happy. 

But I would be lying if I didn't say that everytime I hear that one of these little embryos is a boy, my heart sinks. It's not about them. It's about me. It's about what I'm still missing out on that I thought was a sure thing. There are times when I wonder if that desperation will ever be different. I have Lena. She's a living, breathing, growing child, and she's mine and I love her and I don't know what I'd do without her. Why can't I just be happy that I can call her my daughter? I AM happy that she's my daughter. And I'm so happy that she's here and alive.

Lots of people get hung up on the fact that they have 3 boys and no girls. Or the other way around. But they don't usually know what it's like to have had, and then lost one.

I'm sort of stuck in this weird purgatory forever, I suppose. I have a daughter and I had a son. I don't have him anymore. I can't bring him back to know what it's like to have a son and know what that entails. To have HIM and know what that entails. To see who he would become.

There's nothing I can do to bring him back. I know that. And I know that without him, Lena wouldn't be here. That's a bittersweet tradeoff that's still a really hard pill to swallow.

But there's just something about this sting. And I wonder if my desperation to have a son will ever be different? Will it be different if we ever have another son? Because even if we do, it will never be Luke. Will it sting even worse if we have another daughter?

There's no way to know. It's just a shitty thought, and the end of the sentence will always be "...but I can never hold my Luke."

(I'm sorry if you're one of those people in my life with a boy reading this. These feelings are so complicated, and like I said, it's not about you. It's about me. I love all of your boys. So much. On one hand...I get to experience boyhood, through all of them. On the other, it's a stark reminder of what I don't have, and I'm stuck here wishing I didn't have to understand or come to understand these feelings...)