Roman Xavi- One Month Later
Today you would have been one month old. One month without you here has felt like an eternity of unbearable pain and suffering. We think about you nearly every second of the day, constantly thinking about what you would be doing right now if you were here, thinking of the aspirations we had for you, but will never get to see come to fruition, mourning the loss of you. I wish I could see your eyes, I'm sure they were brown like your brother and sister. I wish I could smell that newborn smell on you. I even wish I could be covered in spit up and poop at 2am. Anything to have you here with us. Most of all, I just wish I was holding you in my arms for hours on end. Sometimes I wish I could have had even a day with you alive, but I know in my heart that no amount of days with you would have been sufficient, I never would have been ready to let you go.
Two days ago was Christmas. It was supposed to be your first Christmas with us. I had matching Santa pajamas for you to wear with Aly and Fynn. I had a tiny stocking hat to take your newborn photos in. Now these things are collecting dust, never to be worn by you. This Christmas we should have been celebrating with you by our side, instead of weeping over your grave, son. Most of the time, it feels so unfair. It's hard to accept that I had you for 9 months in my womb, only to lose you in the end.
The past week, as Christmas was approaching, I have been dwelling on one of my favorite Christmas songs, 'O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.' Emmanuel means 'God with us.' We celebrate Jesus' birth on Christmas. He came into this world to be with us. To know us deeply. To walk with us. To understand the depths of our pain. To give us hope. I am so thankful for this. This Christmas, I heavily mourn the loss of my son, but greatly rejoice in the birth of our Savior. This Savior who has been 'with us' every moment, every hour, of this nightmare. A savior who took the weight of sin upon his shoulders, so that he might save us, give us hope, and be with us daily. I have been constantly reminding myself of these truths lately, resting in this knowledge. He is my constant when nothing else seems secure anymore.
Roman, my son. I long to hold you, know your eyes, feel your warmth, see your smile. I love you more than words could express.