A Sad, Merry Christmas
Christmas is coming.
Usually that is said with more excitement and joy and less tears and foreboding.
I remember hanging the decorations as we were setting up our Christmas tree last year and telling Sheldon, “Maybe next year we’ll have a baby!”
I became pregnant mere months after that hopeful statement.
And now Christmas is here. And I have a baby. A tiny baby girl with long fingers, big feet, dark brown eyes and a nose like mine. But she’s not here. My baby is a Heaven Dweller. She didn’t get a first Christmas. Sheldon and I have to figure out how to celebrate without her.
We made it through the Christmas shopping. We bravely made our way through stores that seemed to be filled with things specifically for little girls. We decorated. We bought an ornament for Rory. It doesn’t say Baby’s First Christmas. It says her name and it hangs on our tree. I did Christmas baking. Auntie Chelsey made a tiny cookie and dubbed it a Rory cookie. I kept it. It’s in my china cabinet.
We went to our church’s candlelight service. Sheldon was brave as soon as we got there, but my courage fled as soon as we walked in the doors. I guess that is what makes us a good couple.
I’m sad this Christmas. I’m so, so sad. I miss her. I wish she was here celebrating Christmas with our families instead of spending it with Jesus. Holidays seem to accentuate my empty arms and broken heart.
I wish I was more excited about Christmas. I wish I could make myself do more than just go through the motions. Though, truth be told, I’m quite proud I’ve even been able to do that.
I am grateful for Christmas. Jesus came to earth as a baby and died as a man for the sins of the world. That’s why Rory is safe in Heaven. That’s why I know I’ll see her again one day. And that’s why, in my sad little way, I’ll be having a Merry Christmas.