Christmas 2007 Survived

I should be in bed. I have to do the paper route in a couple hours, but I've wanted to get to this all week and haven't made it. I wish I could blog every day but for one, it doesn't always flow, and getting time alone here at the computer is a challenge.

In my mind I have an anxious audience with this blog. People who want to know how the journey away from Ezra's physical life is moving into a more spiritual prescence in our lives. The last time I was here I posted about the growing anxiety I was feeling over the approach of Christmas. While I was able to difuse some of the tension through writing, it continued right up until Christmas Eve. It was the pinacle of a very hard week or so for both Abe and I, and dragging our feet we attended the candle light service at our church. With out warning we were watching a short clip from the recent film The Nativity Story. I'm sure it's a wonderful depiction of the events of the Jesus' birth. What I saw was a mother struggling to bring life into the world, Mary, and I remembered so fondly the night I went into labor with Ezra and I began to sob. Then to see her holding the little bundle, with a little head of brown hair sticking out, I wanted to ask, Is that Ezra, is he somehow in that blanket. I closed my eyes and I could feel him so intensely in my memories of first holding him in the hospital and I wept like a mother whos baby has died. During this holiday season I have pondered my similiarities to Mary, a mother whos son also died and tried to find comfort in attatching very human qualities to Mary, and then drifting to the spiritual qualities of a relationship with the memories of your son, and the memories that were never made. But on Christmas eve I hated the Mary I saw on the big screen. Movies seem so insignificant to be played in church, lets be realistic, and I hated her on the screen because she was gazing into the face of her very alive baby, with brown hair and soft skin, cuddled close to her chest so comfortable. And my arms were empty and I hated her with jealousy, such an unsetteling way to exsist.

It's that way with Ezra Baird too, since we spent Christmas Eve in his presence. Good friends of ours, Ben who I grew up with like a close cousin, and Mandy his wife who I'm still getting to know, had a baby just a couple of days after our Ezra. His name is Ezra too. When the boys were born we made comments about them being E1 and E2 or Ezra Owen and my Ezra Lucas. It's one of the many tragedies in all this. This precious little baby that blesses his parents, a first born to them and his Grandparents, who I love, offends me. I hate this, that it's hard to look at him, hard to admire him and appreciate him, because he reminds me of what I don't have, again a terrible way to think but I have to acknowledge it to defeat it. And Ben and Mandy if you read this please don't be upset. I want to have family gatherings with your Ezra, it will be hard for an undefined amount of time. I keep thinking I will like to see him, to remind me of what my precious Ezra would be like. It seems as if it's going the opposite and I am so resentful for that. I hope that expressing it here gives me ground to overcome it.

We spent some time in the car afterwards, Abe crushed is spirit calling out his love for our baby Ezra, crying hard cleansing tears. We headed to our good friends for a party where Abe was hosted well by our friend Julio with good food and relaxing libations. A good time had by all ushered us into a wonderful Christmas morning with Malachi and Josiah. There were some moments of tears as we opened baby Ezra's gift, a size 5 pairs of xtratufs, but all in all it was what it was meant to be. I think it would be most appropriate here to say again how much Malachi and Josiah are saving our lives. Even in our most awful times a quick snuggle from either one of them gives us purpose and joy. They are life-giving and I feel strong when they are with me, that I can be alive and moving forward for them and the brothers or sisters they might have eventually. Bless them for their unknowing encouragement. They constantly tell us of their love for us.

Until now I have not felt like posting a picture on this blog. I thought that when Idid it would be of Ezra, and I will eventually post some of those on here. Recently they have been very difficult for me to look at and so for now I do it when I want to, mostly for the amazing power they have to bring out my tears, and avoid them when I want to, sad to say. The picture I want to share is of Malachi and Josiah and a framed photo of Ezra that has become very important to me. It's what Sarah and Seth brought to me at mom and dads when I asked for his picture because all I could see was his dead face. When I have trouble with visual memories that haunt me I look at this photo and Ezra says to me, silly mom, I'm smiling. Malachi and Josiah are wearing their Christmas PJs. The one tradition we've started as our seperate family. Every year when all the Christmas jammies go on sale I buy them for the next year. So, I had Ezra's since last January. We folded them up on the mantle and took them with us to Christmas at papas house. They are draped over his pictre. Josiah is very attatched to them and has been sleeping with them ever since in place of taking his favorite toy to bed. Anyway, I imagined them all in their little red jammies for Christmas long before Ezra was born, I'm bitter about this....but this is my life.

Last thing, we're heading to Boise on Sunday where I will have the pleasure of meeting Solomon Edwards, the son of a dear friend of mine. He will be the first baby boy that I have held since Ezra died and it will be very emotional. I cannot think of any other friend that I would rather exprience this with. Amazing is the providence of God in this entire situation and Corey, Jean and baby Solomon have been a part of that. Blessings Edwards family. I love you and I can't wait to see you.