Our first parade

This has been a weekend of celebration. On Friday night the whole gang (kids and cousins, aunts and uncles) squeezed into our car for a tour through the first night of the Holiday lights at the botanical gardens. The kids were enthralled as was I. I've always loved Christmas lights. Then, last night, Sully and I participated in Norfolk's Grand Illumination parade, my first time in a parade and obviously Sully's first time, too. (Thanks, Karin, for pushing me along in this - we definitely made some memories.)


I know it seems a bit early to be "getting into the Christmas Spirit" but I feel myself wanting to jump into it full force. I love the joy and celebration, the brightness and happiness of it all. I know some people would rather not see all the Christmas merchandise go up in stores right after Halloween but I've never minded that. And I love it when Christmas carols begin playing on the radio - yes - nonstop.

When we first had our news of Sully's condition, I never could have imagined myself eagerly anticipating the holidays. But here I am, wanting to share it all with him, telling him everything I love most. All through the parade I was talking to him in my head: "This is a parade, Sully. And this is Norfolk, the city where we live. And that is a marching band you can feel vibrating through you."

I hear myself talking to him more and more as the days go on. I've decided to sing in our Christmas choir because I want him to hear beautiful music of the birth of Christ, not just hear it but feel me sing it. It is as a friend wrote me, I am recognizing his humanity, and I'm eager now for others to do the same with me.

A friend who has walked through her own suffering came to visit me last week. In the middle of our conversation she asked to feel my belly. I just cried. It's something so normal, a routine part of being pregnant with a "healthy" baby, so much so that pregnant women complain of it. It's something I've done very little myself with this pregnancy. But to feel around for this little guy, to let someone else touch him and me, to try and feel him move, it was a moment of really embracing his humanity. All of it,all of this, all of these days are so painful but somehow so beautiful.