I'm left with a lack of words most days. I've said it all before: I miss him. I want him more than anything. I'd do anything to get him back. But words aren't enough, and repeating these statements ad nauseam does little to mend my broken heart.
He should have been eleven months old today. But he's not, and I don't know if or when I'll ever stop counting his anniversaries in the same way. He would have made such a cute Christmas elf or Santa Claus, and I'm sad about not being able to take photos of him smiling and clucking under the Christmas tree.
Oh, a Christmas tree. We have a real tree every year. We pick it out at Home Depot, drag it home and place it in it's stand until the new year. Every year is the same- I stand hanging decorations on the tree, listening to Christmas carols while Scott mills around the house hanging things or evading decorating the tree. We use white lights, and gold and red themed ornaments. Each year, we collect an ornament from our travels (we have a Disney-themed ornament from our honeymoon in 2009, and a Rockafeller Centre ornament from NYC 2010). I don't think we picked one up this year, but I'll find something
I've already decided we'll make an annual tradition of purchasing the Swarovski crystal stars.
My husband has been explicit about Christmas being cancelled this year. Last year, after we lost Jack, we came home to a dried up Christmas tree crying out to be tossed away. It breaks my heart to think we put it up with the knowledge Jack would be seeing his first Christmas tree, and took it down knowing he would never see another. My husband refuses to discuss getting a tree this year, or even acknowledge the Christmas cards which are beginning to roll in. He doesn't want Christmas presents or any talk of Christmas plans. It sounds ridiculous to anyone who doesn't know him, but Scott IS Christmas. He is the happiest person I know, he is always cheerful, and he lights up a room when he walks in it. But to see him dim around the holidays is hard.
He turns thirty in fewer than 2 weeks and he also refuses to discuss any plans for any form of celebration. So we won't be having one. He can't imagine finding anything worth celebrating even though we do have this pregnancy to be grateful for. He's bitter, he's angry, and he's remembering just how hopeful we were just 11 months ago for a son to spoil this year. Each holiday party we attended last year was earmarked with, "next year we'll have a baby with us". Christmas day this year was to be the first of us staying home and family coming to visit us.
I'm trying really hard to look forward to the good we have in store in 2012 (please). The next several weeks promise to be the hardest yet as we endure our favourite holiday without our favourite boy. As we experience the last of the "firsts" and start to experience our "seconds without him". There are happy things though- we have pieces of optimism and hope sprinkled in with our despair- we'll complete our anatomy scan with the hopes of a healthy baby, and we'll soon find out the gender of the sibling Jack has sent to us. There will be good days, mixed in with the bad. The hopes for a better outcome next Christmas.
Please, oh please.