I don't really keep track of many milestones regarding our little angel aka Baby Brickel. I was reminded *accidentally* by an office co-worker (who got pregnant the same week I did ) that it was her baby's first Christmas.
Yeah - it was like pulling a knife out of my heart.
Coincidentally, two office staff - who happen to be pregnant were in earshot as I mumbled something to a different co-worker about the significance and suddenly they vanished into thin air. They were talking about comparing cribs, bedding and new furniture they were looking at as well as the new cars they would be buying. I can totally appreciate their excitement however after that reminder of *baby's first Christmas* I was done.
This happened Friday afternoon with about 20 minutes left of work and honestly I was so drained, it didn't hit me until I got in the car and seconds later, my cell rang and it was my mom. My mom barely got 2 words in before I spewed the flood of emotions while crying. What I was saying was anyone's guess - I can't even recall now as I type this. My mom, who is pretty amazing by the way, reminded me that while she doesn't bring our loss up - EVER she does think about the baby every. single.day.
I was happy to arrive home, into the arms of D who held me so tight while giving me the 95 gazallionith pep talk about us one day becoming parents.
It's moments like these that I remember to be grateful for the gift of having the world's best mom and a husband who deserves some kind of medal for putting up with my emotional wackiness. I always try to find something positive about an experience that is completely miserable. I am not completely Pollyanna , I can be sullen, moody and quite negative at times however, with this recent event I can appreciate how holidays are not always the most joyous and celebratory occasions for a lot of people.
It is a painful lesson of both tolerance and acceptance.