"Its the most, wonderful time of the year..."

Yeah right,

Christmas is here, Christmas has been upon us for a couple weeks with only one week to go.  We all are thrust unwillingly into the Christmas spirit with decorations galore, songs blaring, Christmas packaging, etc.  I have always enjoyed Christmas, the traditional side of it more so than the kitchy side.  Most of all I love the message and the ability to bring families together.

But what about when families are finally suppose to be together on Christmas after waiting only to have that not come true?  Marcellus was suppose to be born right around Christmas or a little after.  When he was born early and in the NICU they told us hopefully he will go home by Christmas.  We had set that mind in our date as some joyous homecoming for our son.  If we could not have our homebirth by the Christmas tree we were going to be changing diapers by it on a tiny baby.  But none of this is true, Marcellus has been dead for almost six weeks.  Six weeks without my son.  The time of him being alive is growing ever smaller compared to the time he has been in the grave.  I have no desire for Christmas, this year, Christmas represents the painful elimination of my Son from our family.  His memory I will celebrate for sure during this time, but I will not celebrate Christmas.  I just want to get through these next few weeks.  I want people to stop asking me about Christmas, to stop wishing me 'Merry Christmas.'  This holiday is not absolute, sure it will come every year but there is no rule you have to celebrate it.  I am even getting sick of typing the word in this post.  Marcellus never knew Easter, that is the only holiday where he was not alive for...barely.  I will use Easter as my holiday for him.


Happy Easter.

I miss my son, I miss him terribly, every day.  Everytime I see a baby in the store or a father with a child no matter what old my heart feels a distinct stab.  I avoid them, but sometimes they are everywhere.  I just want to hold my baby so much, to stare into his face, hear him cry, squeak, yawn, hiccup.  I want to look at his little toes and fingers.  Most of all I want to tell him that I love him so much my heart hurts everyday.  I love you Marcellus