Christmas pain

It's come, the grief wave. As I expected, though I thought not yet. Not yet, I thought I had a bit longer to cope. It hits unexpectedly, in a moment, in a kind gesture from a friend. The missing him. The missing piece.

For so long now I have been so focused on the next baby. I must get pregnant again, then it will be ok....but it won't will it? The grief will still be there. Christmas will still be painful.  One photo, one beautiful/painful memory and I'm in bits. Longing to hold him again, longing to smell his hair. To feel him wriggle free because he's a big boy now and he wants to run, not sit on my knee. My heart torn once again when I remember he will never run.  That tomorrow I will take his Christmas gifts of red and white carnations and sparkly red robins to his grave.  Christmas eve because I can't bear it on Christmas day. I can't bear the missing him and I can't bear the guilt.

I can't bear it.

Never. ending. torture.

I miss him.