I lost my first little boy at the end of October. He had been due on the 8th December, I had been told all through my pregnancy "Oh, a Christmas baby!"
So of course Christmas brought on strong emotions and lots of tears.
Even now, eleven years later, I cry when I am standing in church and singing Away in a Manger, or more precisely when I sing the last verse :
"Bless all the dear children
In Thy tender care."
When I was in hospital and my son was in a cooler room next door, and each time I had visited his grave and was coming back home, I had the feeling that I was leaving him alone, a little baby without his mummy. I should have been taking care of him but I wasn't.
Yesterday night we were watching last year's Christmas episode of Doctor Who, a really nice story about how strong a mother is for her children and how she always looks after them, how a mother cares. In this story the children got lost in a forest with the Doctor and of course there is danger.They say that Mummy will come, she always comes.
My little boy went so far away from me and I couldn't go to him to bring him back. Even when he was still in my tummy and I felt something was wrong, he was actually very far away already and I couldn't go to him.
And I so wanted to go to him... Grief then was like a craving almost as strong as the need to breath, and I couldn't breath. So it hurt, so I cried, and I still cry when I'm reminded of it.