Every once in a while something reminds me of the baby I lost. This time, it was Christmas Eve and I was at mass, walking up to communion. At the very moment that I remembered Christmas Eve mass two years ago with Lesley, asking the bishop to bless me because I might be pregnant (I was), I looked down and saw the sweet face of a red-headed baby.
I bit my lip, uttered out my "amen" as I received communion and tried like hell not to cry. Eyes welled, I looked up and blinked furiously. All around me were babies. And two years ago, there was a baby growing inside of me.
These holidays are not my favorite time of year anyway. The lead-up, the anticipation -- love it. Love to shop, love to decorate, love the music and the movies. The actual day, I could honestly sleep through.
If you're single and/or childless, and live in a family and/or society that expects you to get married, raise a family, and revel in all of that....then add in the holidays, when said family/society gathers to celebrate it all....well, you get my point.
I'm hoping that I'll have a referral by next Christmas -- it's a long shot, but something to hold out hope for -- and then maybe I'll finally be able to enjoy the holidays. And while I'll never forget the baby that grew inside of me, beginning the day before Christmas Eve two years ago, I'm hopeful that a new baby, my baby who may already exist on the other side of the world, will fill the hole in my heart and help me focus on Christmas Present.