Christmas was as hard as I figured it was going to be. Peter and I spent most of Christmas eve with just the two of us at home alone. A little before 10pm we headed to his Mom's house. Once we got there we prayed and asked God to get us through what we knew was going to be a sad night. Next we helped finish making tamales and ate pozole and at midnight we opened gifts. Usually I enjoy watching the kids open there gifts and the loud sounds of laughter bring joy to my heart. This year each time I heard one of the kids laugh I was crying deep inside. I could only think that this time next year my baby's laughter would have been heard around the room. He would be getting toys and gifts and smiling just as they were. It broke my heart. I couldn't wait until it was time to head home.
The next day Peter and I slept in. We were in no hurry to wake up this Christmas; we really wanted to sleep the day away. Around 2pm we went to Rose Hills. I never imagined I would be going to Rose Hills on Christmas day to find some sort of peace at my Son's grave. It was ironic. As we drove up the hill to Enrique's section it was a bitter sweet site. The lawn was covered with so many Christmas decorations I could hardly see the green grass. There were so many people visiting that it was as packed as Disneyland on New Years. I could only imagine the story each person had. Peter and I prayed once we got to Enrique once again asking for strength to get through another day. Family after family drove through also visiting there lost child and I could only ask 'Why God?' 'Why did my baby's endless journey have to begin so soon?' 'Why did my baby die?' Why isn't he still in my belly, growing, and kicking?' 'Why?'
I don't think people really understand what this Christmas meant to Peter and I. This was suppose to be our last Christmas as just husband and wife. Our next Christmas was suppose to be as Mommy and Daddy with the most precious gift ever. The joy that we thought we would have this year at Christmas by just thinking about the arrival of our son was ripped away from us. This Christmas was suppose to be about the best gift we could have given to each other - our son. Instead, we had an empty stocking that belonged to our baby. We decided to write Enrique a letter; one from me and one from Peter. We simply wrote our thoughts, folded the letter, and placed it in his stocking. Each year we will write a letter and add it to the previous years. Maybe one day Peter and I will share these letters with our other children.
Next we went to my Mom's. Although there were no children at my Mom's the night didn't get any easier. It was not easy trying to be happy when really I just wanted to be in bed asleep waiting for another day to pass. This was truly a hard day for Peter and I. I could not tell you how many times I thought about my baby and that his first Christmas was in Heaven - the perfection that surrounds him and the Heavenly Angels that sing to him. How is view from Heaven must be incredible; to see the world lit up with Christmas lights. I could only imagine what Heaven's Christmas tree looks like! My baby must have had such a Heavenly beautiful Christmas and for that I am grateful to the Lord.
I sit here tonight crying and praying to God that some day Peter and I will have another baby. I pray that this baby will be healthy and make it to full term. I pray that we will get to experience life and not death. I pray for peace and understanding, strength and courage to get through another day. I pray for love and joy when thinking about my baby. Most of all I pray that my baby knows I would have given anything and I mean anything to have him here with me.
Merry Heavenly Christmas my sweet Angel. Mommy and Daddy miss you more than you or anyone could possibly understand.