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This bear weighs exactly 11 pounds and 4 ounces. Exactly the size of the hole in my heart. But thanks to this thoughtful gift, my arms don't feel so painfully empty. I can't quite articulate how much carrying the exact weight of McCoy against my body grounds me. I think my physical need for him will be there forever, the heaviness of his absence always present. But this sure helps. Thank you @kylieraedesigns for this big dude and thank you @mb_jackets for the custom ribbon. Also feeling thankful for my new (first) tattoo, with my son's ashes in the ink... so that my baby can be with me always. He can stay forever in my arms this way, in the place he last rested. I know I'm privileged in my grief, to have the support of so many. It's very hard to feel lucky right now, and yet, somehow, I know I am. That being said, I'm very much ready for the dick kicks to stop. To the poor Shipt shopper who remarked "the baby should have been born by now, right?" and the shocked insurance agent, and the others who didn't mean to throw the grenades they did... when I say "It's okay," I don't mean "I'm okay," I'm saying I know you didn't know. But I promise, you're not upsetting me by "reminding" me, I'll never need a reminder. I'm just sad that the answer to your question isn't what I hoped it would be. It should be a joyful Q&A, not a landmine. It should be different. Instead, here I am, clutching a stuffed toy wishing it was a real boy. To my Instead Mamas, I thank you especially for all the continued comfort, encouragement, and love. And you're right, it is getting easier to bear. (Look! I even did a pun. Good for me.)

Публикация, споделена от Kara Bosworth (@karakeoughboz) на