21 Days

Dear Emma,

Three weeks. 21 days. And I finally have you home. I finally have your ashes home. My sister took me to pick you up. When we got home, before we got out of the car she said some beautiful words about you being with us. She always has the words I am too lost to say. She cried with me on the way home, while I held you in my lap. I like knowing someone else loved you too. Loves you. These memories I now have, seem like a dream. What I mean is, it’s hard to believe this is my life now. I think about when someone asks me, one day, to tell them about myself. You are so intwined in who I am. What do I say on that day? How do I not include you? Silly thing to worry about. A week ago I went on an interview. Stupid thing to do right now. I wanted to prove to myself and others I could be normal. I can be ready for another baby; when my body heals. For in addition to loving you, Emma, I also feel an overwhelming desire for a baby in my belly. It’s empty. I’m empty. I need my baby. During the interview she asked how I saw my future. I froze for what felt like eternity. The audacity to ask such a question. I didn’t have a future. There’s no future without you, Emma. It’s just life. How could someone ask such a terrible question? Even for those who hope, those who still make plans, nothing is promised. The future is unforeseeable. I guess that’s the thing about loss. It breaks you. It shows you a new reality that life is not some protective bubble where your dreams come true. People die, babies die. Bad things happen. The future is just hope. Blissful, ignorant, hope. Each morning I spend my waking minutes thinking of you. I think of you all day, but this time is dedicated just to you. I’m not doing anything else. I don’t usually cry during this time, even when I remember the more difficult things. Maybe it’s too early and my body isn’t fully awake? But I think of you. Right now I think of the tattoo I plan to get for you. I hope others ask about you. I didn’t feel that way a week ago; I guess that’s what they call progress. As sad as it makes me to remember you’re not with me, talking about you helps keep you near. Each day that passes feels further from you. I need you close.