Christmas

My favourite holiday ever is was Christmas.  I love getting presents for people.  Seeing the looks on their faces when they unwrap the perfect gift I have found for them.  I still love that part, but Christmas has lost all of its magic now.

Like absolutely everything in this "new" life, this Christmas was supposed to be SO different.  We should have an almost 9 month old baby boy.  I don't think he would be old enough to understand, but he would be old enough that Christmas would have been fun.

Ever since DH and I moved in with my folks we have gone to a hotel to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning alone.  We planned on doing that this year with Ethan too.  

Instead of my gorgeous little boy rocking on a wooden rocking horse, his ashes sat in our fireproof safe.

Instead of DH and I showering Ethan with gifts, we showered him with as much love as we and a bunch of family and friends could muster.

This year, we asked family and friends to write a note to Ethan for his stocking.  So, this Christmas morning, we woke up in our hotel room, our huge hotel room that could have fit Ethan's crib, toys, change table... I digress.  We read all of the letters that everyone had given us for Ethan.  And they were beautiful.  And we cried.  It was a really rough morning.  But it was also so nice.  Much like our lives right now, contradictory. 

We are so thankful to the people who took the time to write Ethan a little note.  It helped us get through Christmas knowing that people still think about our little boy.  That he is not forgotten.  We were actually surprised by some people who did take the time to write.  We didn't expect some people to write, and we didn't expect such touching letters from some people.  Likewise, we were also sadly surprised by the people who didn't write a letter.  But I guess you take the good with the bad.  That constant contradiction that is now our lives.

So, we survived our first Christmas without Ethan.  It was hard and if I could have one wish it would be that no one ever has to go through babyloss ever again.

Work

So, I am officially back at work now. Nearly 8 months since I had originally gone off on maternity leave...

For the most part, it hasn't been too bad.  I generally enjoy what I do and I think I am pretty good at my job.  I love my boss, so work isn't bad itself.  But what it represents is just another daily reminder of what isn't.  I should still be on mat leave, complaining that Ethan is teething.  Not complaining that I have to wake up so early to go to work.

And then there are the people.  The lovely, ignorant people.  The well wishing people.  The people who wish me a cheery "welcome back!" as if I have been on a glorious sabbatical.  I haven't figured out a good comeback for those people yet.  

If it weren't for the people, work would be much better.  I went for coffee in our cafeteria one day and got bombarded by one lady who told me every single cliche that you should not say.  I got "you have to believe everything happens for a reason". "He is an angel now". "You have to stay strong". "God is going to bless you in other ways". Among others that I can't remember now.  It was like verbal diarrhea coming out of this lady's mouth and I was in too much shock to say anything in return.   

Here's the deal with me.  I don't know if I believe in God.  Prior to Ethan, I was struggling with what I believed.  After Ethan?  Hmph.  But guess what?  If you tell me that your god has taken my son from me and will bless me in other ways, I never ever want to meet your god.  As far as I am concerned, your god is an asshole.  If your god lets babies die, babies born to parents who have dreamed of this day their entire lives, your god is an asshole.  You are not doing your god justice.

So now, instead of being the social person I was at work, I keep my head down.  I avoid people.  I avoid the cafeteria.  I avoid any social functions.  As much as I can, I avoid going anywhere by myself.

I am pretty angry.  I really wish everyone would just leave me alone.