It's Christmas Day and I feel almos foolish to think I actually thought year number 2 without Sam would be a smidgen easier than the first.
Shit! I'm wrong!
This sucks. We stop at the oasis for Starbucks and my eyes begin to flow at the sight of a father and son hand in hand.
I allow my head to be filled with the guilt that struck me so early on.
I'm sorry for not giving my husband a son, my daughter a brother, completing my family.
I know it's not my fault. But this Christmas season has brought out that mother instinct, the one to protect the young at any cost.
I just want my son back. Even if its for a split second.
I imagine him riding around in this truck that we would have bought him this year for Christmas.
I can hear him babbling some gibberish that only daddy and I can understand.
I imagined him opening his gifts this morning and either being a terror to his big sister or the most sweetest little boy to his mommy.
But I'm not having any of that. Their only dreams that will never come true.
We will never have a complete family. We will never have a complete holiday.
Merry Christmas baby boy, mommy loves you.