// Four days left before Christmas? Where has the time gone? How are you not here? 

// I wish the holidays skipped over me this year ..

// I haven't been able to find my usual "umph" to open up the curtains in your room this past week, I'm sorry.

// Wasn't it just June? You were still inside of me and safe.

// Weren't your dad and I just sticking your wall decals in your nursery after a long day of work?

// We were just in the hospital, I swear. 

// How has all this time flew by and I'm still finding myself barely standing on some days.

// This pain will never go away. Neither will this heartache.

// Counting down the days until I get to hold you in my arms again. 

// I'm not sure how other parents and families are doing this.

// "One day at a time," I keep telling myself.

// "Your will, not my will be done," I repeat to myself when I toss and turn at night. 

// How do I look like from up there, Havey? Does mama look as lost and as afloat as she feels?

// I wish we had more time with you.

// I'll never forget your details. 

// Will the holidays get easier from this one on out?

// Daily, I still hold and rub my tummy and vividly remember what it felt like when you were still here ..

// I always think about how I would have been as a physical mother and if I would be any good.

// Constantly praying for physical healing and restoration over my cervix.

// You're all I'm ever thinking and dreaming about.


I just want You this Christmas ...