Remembering...

This weekend marks the one-year anniversary of Christian's passing. As I write this, his brother is asleep on my chest, our Christmas tree is lit, the snow covers everything outside and all four of our stockings hang over the fireplace. These past few days, I have floated in and out of the past and present tense. I look at the clock and remember what exactly was happening a year ago. It is now 5:15. I was still laboring...and would continue to do so...for another three hours. I don't know what will happen when we reach 8:00 and I remember the delivery. Maybe it will just come and go, maybe I'll break down, maybe it won't hit me until I get into bed tonight.

Yesterday I lay on the couch with Ethan watching the snow and remembering. Above all, I remembered the completely empty feeling I had after coming home from the hospital. Empty womb, empty arms...shattered faith and paralyzing fear of more hurt and loss. And now? My arms are full of a beautiful boy... a healthy, perfect baby...and I feel full of joy surrounded by my little family. .It is beyond strange that such opposite emotions should live side by side...That everything could change so completely in a single year. I feel Ethan's hand grip mine so tightly and remember Christian's still, tiny fingers. I look at his beautiful, perfect face as he sleeps and remember my initial impression of Christian: so tiny, so broken, so...tragic. To have Ethan feels right and yet wrong. It's exactly what I hoped and prayed for and yet I didn't want to replace Christian or his memory. Having Ethan brings the full realization of what we missed with Christian home.

On the other hand, the gift of Ethan has brought healing and hope. It has restored our faith that good is possible. He reminds us that God is faithful and He cares about us.

I have no answers to my questions. Missing Christian does not hurt any less and there are still times when grief hits hard. I can't say with conviction that I know why God chose us or him to walk that particular path. This year has brought no insight in that regard. If nothing else, I have learned to be happy with the time I have with my loved ones...even on the hard days...even in the yucky times...because they are my greatest gift. There is no THING that compares to having my family. Even if I have to wake up at three in the morning and get spit up on for the rest of my life, I will be happy that I have a son whose hugs and smiles melt my heart everyday. I've never seen anything like it: when he smiles, he embodies PURE JOY even though he may not know what that means. I see and understand God better because of him. I begin to get a glimpse of what it must be like to love someone so much that you would do anything for them. I'm amazed when I imagine Mary looking down at her baby boy and knowing that He was God Almighty in the body of a child.

Our journey - questions and all - is not over, to be sure. Perhaps everyday will continue to teach us just a tiny bit more. I know there is a chance that we will never have all of the reasons for the things we encounter here on earth. Even so, I will remember and try to be thankful for the small miracles we were given along the way. This Christmas, I will try to find joy in the fact that my first baby is celebrating with the angels. We have not moved on without him. I'll try to remember that he has gone on ahead of us. I will hold my boys and love on them and thank God for every day...the chance to live my life with them is my greatest Christmas gift. I will be thankful that I can sing this Christmas. I will be thankful to know JOY again.

Merry Christmas, everyone.