Tis the Season

Christmas is my favorite time of year.  The weather is cool, if not cold.  We get to put up beautiful decorations.  I get to celebrate my birthday.  Plus, I'm off for two weeks of paid leave time. 

And this year, for the first time since we've been together, Doug will be off too.  Which makes this Christmas extra special. 

We've got a full schedule.  We're going to Kentucky, going to the beach, spending Christmas Day with my family and spending the weekend after with Doug's family.

Christmas is the one time of year that we ALWAYS go to Kentucky to visit my extended family.  Many times it's the ONLY time we get to see my two grandmothers and it's always the only time I get to see most of my cousins and aunts and uncles.

Last year, when I found out I was due in October and would be on maternity leave until January, I immediately started planning my trip to Kentucky.  My mom and I were going to go up early with the baby so that we could visit EVERYONE and show off the baby.  Then when Logan was born in June, we started talking about our trip and how Logan would probably be the center of attention because he would be a miracle baby. 

When he died, all thoughts of Christmas went out the window.  Doug and I didn't have any extra time to take off because of the time we had already taken off while I was in the hospital and then recovering.  And going to Kentucky would have been too hard.

You see, I have a BIG family.  My dad is one of 8 and my mom is one of 11.  And most of them have at least 2 kids.  And most of my cousins have kids now too.  In fact, last year there were at least three new babies and a very pregnant cousin.  It just would have been too hard.

Even this year, I am anxious.  I keep trying to imagine what it would be like if he hadn't died.  What would my life be like with an 18 month old.

And every time I do imagine it, I see Logan as a perfectly normal walking, talking 18-month-old.  One you have to watch closely to keep him out of everything.  One who puts everything in his mouth. 

And then I realize that I'm imagining the baby that was supposed to be born on Oct. 11.  Then I remember that just a day or two before he died we found out he had a brain bleed.  It wasn't a fatal bleed, but it most likely would have affected him if he had lived.  I realize that, if he had lived, 18-month-old Logan may not be walking and talking.  He may never have walked or talked.  My trip to Kentucky may have entailed so many machines and so much medical equipment that it was absolutely exhausting.  We may not have been able to go at all. 

And for myself, I wish either one of those dreams was true.  I know I wouldn't mind lugging the equipment.  I would have been happy to learn about machines and medicines that kept my son alive.

But the real Logan is so much better than either of my dreams.  Because he's in heaven.  And as a mother, I want what is best for my son.  So, as a mother, I'm proud to have a son in heaven even when it hurts to say so.