Wake Me Up In 2008

I have always loved Christmas. It's such a magical time of year. I think it's so special because family and friends are gathered around. We make homemade cookies together using a passed on recipe. We sing carols as we adorn the tree, then lay under it to look at all the glowing lights. There are wonderful colors, sights, sounds and smells. You get to bundle up in cozy sweaters and socks and sit by the fire clutching a mug of hot cocoa (with marshmallows, of course). The birth of Christ is celebrated the entire month long- not just on one day. Attention to detail is apparent as you drive by beautifully decorated homes and open the precisely wrapped gifts. People give, not just take. It's a comforting time of year.

This year is different. At this time of year, there is such an emphasis on family and being together. Being jolly and bright. I'm neither of those. I'm grumpy and sad. I don't want to celebrate this season. And because it's so drawn out, it's even more depressing. My life and attitude has changed since my babies were taken away from me. Last year I decorated our home inside and out. I decorated the tree with ornaments I've collected throughout the years. I baked cookies for everyone. I wrapped every single gift under the tree with shiny paper, double stick tape and satin bows. We entertained a house full of people. I cooked. I cleaned. I never stopped. This year I'm tired and I don't want to do any of it. I don't want to *look* at any of it. I'm not just being lazy, it just hurts too much. I think part of the reason I did it last year even after losing Sam is because I was pregnant with Jack and I really thought there would be a different (a better) outcome. I was hopeful and positive. I was cautious, but I was happy. Knowing I had a second chance did something to me.

Mr. H hung up lights on the exterior of our house. He put out my light-up penguin. He put up trees anchoring our front door and a sign that says "Happy Holidays" Everything looks beautiful. I can't take any credit for it though. I feel badly for being in this rut because I don't want him to feel like he has to sulk because I am. But our home, as beautiful and charming as it is on the outside is much different inside. Much like myself. I'm not saying I'm beautiful and charming, but you know what I mean. I don't want to put up our tree or decorate our house. I can't bring myself to do it. And I don't want anyone else to do it for me either. But I feel like I'm cheating/denying Jack of his first Christmas. Sam got his, but since I'm in a bad mood this year Jack doesn't get to have his ornament hung on the tree next to Sam's ? That not fair. I doubt either one cares whether their ornaments are on display, but I care. I want to be a good mom and I don't know how to be that when I am so down and they are not here. I feel like a freak for doing all this for them. For doing this for non-existent babies. Now I feel like a bitch for just writing that they are non-existent. In my heart they are real, but I can't decorate a tree, buy them gifts, stuff their stockings or make them sugar cookies "in my heart". And there aren't any flights going to Heaven that I can get on. If I could, I'd be there in a heartbeat.

A friend suggested I put up a smaller tree with ornaments that reminded me of the boys. I have plenty of ornaments to fill up the tree. I have some with their name engraved on them, others that are hand painted. I have an angel I got from our vacation in Santa Fe. I have remembrance ornaments from Hallmark (one from 2006 and now 2007). I have teddy bears and snowmen, penguins and snow angels. I'm all set, if I could just do it. I tried to find a 3 ft. tree at Target, but didn't luck out. I did buy a few extra ornaments that I liked that reminded me of Sam and Jack. I got a blue bird, a butterfly and a dragonfly and their initials 'S' and 'J'. I want to want to be in the spirit, but it's not coming to me. I think my pain overrides my joy.

While we (my mom and I) were shopping she asked when I was going to put up our tree. I told her I wasn't going to. She asked why and I told her because I didn't want to. I didn't want to celebrate. She then tried to talk me into it and told be to quit being a scrooge. I have a right to not be so cheery all the time. I have the right to grieve in whatever way I see fit. I have the right to not put up a Christmas tree and not be chastised because of how I am feeling. Yeah, my life would be easier if I could just move on and forget about my sorrows, but it's easier said than done. I feel if I move on, I am forgetting them. I refuse to forget them and I don't know how to do one without the other. I don't know how to "celebrate" Christmastime without my family.