A Baby Loss Mama Doesn't Understand - Week 24

There is this one thing that has been on my mind more often than not lately. In my conversations with fellow Baby Loss Mamas, there is a common thread from the mamas of rainbow babies that I just can't quite grasp. Many of these mamas hold a tiny grudge against their rainbow - "I think to myself, if your sister were alive, you wouldn't be here" one mom said.
I don't want to feel this way about Clark. I don't feel this way about him. Not now and hopefully not ever. I told my husband that as devastated as I have been this last year with the loss of John and then Drew, carrying Clark has been a tormented joy. I worry, I watch every symptom, count every cramp, take every vitamin. I plan for happiness and prepare for another disaster. I lean terribly on the genetic science that soothes me, but I don't trust it at all.
But somehow that has everything to do with Clark and almost nothing to do with John and Drew. Of course I miss them. I still cry for them. I bought orange tulip bulbs to plant at their shared grave this weekend. They are front of mind, always.
But like I told my husband, as sad as I am, as much as I miss my boys, as much as they mean to me individually and together in the sense of motherhood and the sense of loss, I would not trade Clark for either one of them. I would not barter this child away to get back the most precious things I have lost.
I say this because Clark is as much my child as John or Drew. He is as much a part of me and of my husband as those lost little angels. I do not love him less. I do not love him more. This is a symptom, I suppose, of my insistence on grieving them as whole people with whole personalities and whole identities. I can honestly close my eyes and see what I think John would have looked like, or what Drew would have been like. But those somewhat assigned personalities and identities also extend to Clark.
For me, this isn't about "If your brother were alive, you wouldn't be here." It's about "Your brothers died and I am lucky to have you."
Perhaps this feeling will change when he gets here, when he is here and alive and I can think more about how his brothers never had these chances, the opportunity that comes with life.
But I never want to lose touch with the fact that this is a little person who is here not because his brothers died, but because we were brave enough and lucky enough to have him.