Sour Milk & Cookies

It's that time of year again.  Christmas.  I'm posting this a bit early, because I know when it gets closer to Christmas, I may not be composed enough to do so.  

Seems like such a long time ago we announced our little bundle of joy to the world.  

I remember watching everyone read the card saying we were adding another stocking next year and it taking people FOREVER to get it!  Seemed so self explanatory to me!  haha

Things seemed so perfect.  A little unknown, but perfect.  We had a wonderful Christmas.  Everyone was SO happy.  Brad and I were having kids within two months of each other!  Crazy how that worked out!!  


Two days later, our worlds came crashing down.  

December 27, 2011.  The day that will forever be burned into my memory.  

My parents had gone to Arkansas as they do just about every year for Christmas.  I remember getting home, changing my clothes and just settling down to get comfy.  As my phone is always on silent, I didn't hear it ring, but when I picked it up I had two missed calls from Mom and a voicemail message that said to call her as soon as I could, Brad had been in an accident.  I immediately called her back and learned that Brad was in the hospital after a motorcycle accident, but they didn't know how bad it was.  They were getting on a plane as soon as possible and heading home.  They needed me to go to the hospital because they said the doctors needed an immediate family member to sign papers or something.  

I called Rhema, made babysitting arrangements and headed down there, FULLY prepared to give Brad a good smack on the head because I had told him just a few days before that he needed to be careful on his bike and stop riding like a maniac.  I got to Rhema's house and she was gathering her things to come with me.  I told her she didn't need to but she said Dale insisted (thanks for that Dale).  So off we headed.  Joking around the whole way there, talking about the baby, Brad... everything. 

We pulled up, and I walked towards the emergency room doors and noticed there was a crowd of people there from my dad's church.  All I remember is walking up and someone blurting out, "He didn't make it".  Rhema immediately grabbed me and pulled me away from them and wouldn't let me go... but it didn't sink in.  Wait... what just happened?!  I heard them, but I didn't believe it - or my brain didn't accept it.  I can't even begin to describe the next few hours, nor do I want to.  Every time I relive that night its like its happening all over again.  Every emotion, every tear, every little fracture in my heart... all of it.  I have only been to Belle Chasse a handful of times since that night.  And every time I cry.  All I can think about is what was happening in his last moments.  What he was thinking.  If he saw that car coming.  It tears me up inside every single time I drive down there.

But there you have it.  While Christmas time is supposed to be all about love, joy and family... our Christmas will forever be tainted.  Soured.  

I have a beautiful family.  A wonderful boyfriend, beautiful daughter and adorable son.  I am trying SO hard to be happy this Christmas.  I don't let them see me cry.  I don't tell them that every time I see a Christmas tree it feels like someone punched me in the stomach.  I'm supposed to be enjoying our first Christmas with our new little addition... and all I feel like doing is just locking the world away till after its over.  

But I can't.  And I won't.  And one of the biggest reasons is this little guy right here...  

Since last Christmas, our little man was diagnosed with Spina Bifida and Hydrocephalus.  We were told he would never walk, he would be slow, have no quality of life, and were recommended an abortion. He was born, and rushed away, put through two surgeries and then for a month after rushed to the ER just about every weekend.  And yet... that picture sums him up.  Happy.  Through and through.  He is NOT slow... and just last month, we were informed that he should be able to walk with some braces.  He has done nothing but prove all of the doctors wrong.  He has the biggest personality and brightest smile I've ever seen.  He is my reason for being strong this year.  He is the reason that, the urge to hide is overridden by the urge to make his Christmas and his LIFE awesome.  Sure, he probably won't remember this first Christmas... but I will.  That smile has brightened so many lives.

And for BJ... Sometimes you don't even know that hug you just gave me was needed so much.  I don't always know how, but you always come through with a smile and a hug.  You are the best dad I know.  I love you so much.  

Here's to making this the best Christmas ever.  And for many more to come.  

(And I promise, I won't leave you sour milk... )