Scattered thoughts

I look around and see Christmas lights lighting up the neighborhood. Christmas trees are up and on display in the windows of many homes. Happy families will soon gather together to share warm celebrations and reflections of the past year.

I'm just not feeling it.

At first I thought I was okay with it all. I though, "How much harder can it possibly be than the rest of this year has been?" And then it hit me.

There will be no excitement over "baby's first Christmas..."

There will be no squirmy baby sitting on Santa's lap with her sisters in pictures...

There will be no gifts under the tree with her name on them...

None of the cards we get will have her name included on them, as if she never existed and is no longer part of our family.

And unless I initiate any conversation about her, it's pretty unlikely that anyone in our families will probably even mention her. And they'll all be jolly and cheery and I'll long to yell in their face "DO YOU GET WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO US????????"

Instead, we - unlike any other family in our community - will be going to a Cemetary to share our "First Christmas" moments with our youngest child. I am just writhing in the unfairness of it all, and want to kick and scream and have a full-blown tantrum like a toddler. My mood, short-fuse temper, unreasonable anger, and avoidance of everyone possible are a sure sign that yep.. It's gonna be a Merry frickin' Christmas indeed.

Of course, I won't have a huge tantrum though. I'll just keep it all inside like I'm getting used to doing. I'll fake a smile if I can, and cry quietly in the shower at the end of the day until I can't feel anything anymore. I'll look the other way when I see a baby about Freja's age and shut off my wandering mind before it leads me to thoughts of what she should be doing if she weren't buried in that cold, cold ground. I'll get through it all, somehow, like I have been doing for the past eight months - right?

Christmas Day happens to be the day she would be turning nine months old. Nine months! I can't wrap my mind around the fact that soon she will have been gone longer than we had her for. Soon, we will be approaching what should be her first birthday.

Can I bear the weight of another day? Can I?

I don't know what it is, but I feel like I'm going backwards after making what I thought was 'progress' in this grief.

Seeing the snow on the ground takes me back to the days following her birth and it's a hard reality to grasp. The snow is back already? How can this be? It was just here...

It seems like my world has been on pause since March 25th, and to watch it move forward is just so.......... unnatural and surreal, and I feel so disconnected from it all.