Easter

Although almost two weeks ago I want to write about Easter.

Easter has held significance for me for awhile now. Of course it's the day Jesus rose from the dead, but beyond that it's a special date for both my babies. Yes babies, plural. If you don't know, I have a daughter, Angela, I placed for adoption when I was in high school. She's 9 now and shares a birthday with Marcellus. My babies, both born October 28th. And my babies, both have Easter as a significant time at the very beginning of their lives.

Easter 2002 was even earlier than Easter this year. I was going to say April 1st, but I just looked it up and it was March 31st. I found out I was pregnant with Angela that Good Friday. We didn't have school and my boyfriend at the time and I went to the Caring Pregnancy Center in my hometown. I was 6 weeks pregnant. We had Easter at my mom's the year. My boyfriend came with. After everyone left and the celebration was done we told her I was pregnant. Yup, I told my mom I was pregnant on Easter Sunday at the age of 16. Ever since, Easter has held an even more important place for me.

This year though, this year I didn't think about Angela much on Easter. Actually didn't think about that Easter of 2002 at all until right in the middle of Easter Vigil Mass. It really bothered me that I didn't think of her as I usually did. Why wasn't I thinking of her? I was only thinking of and hurting for Marcellus. Not only was it another first holiday without him, but it was significant in the start of his little life too.

Now this might be TMI, but when I got pregnant with Marcellus we were trying. Really trying, with charting and all that good stuff. So I know when I ovulated and when we most likely got pregnant with Marcellus. It was Easter. Easter 2011, April 24th. Although Easter was much earlier this year, it still signifies the very start of Marcellus's life. The day we celebrate Jesus's resurrection and our hope of eternal life, Marcellus's life was starting.

I know exactly what we did last year for Easter. We had some close friends over for a really great Easter dinner and we dyed Easter eggs. Mike and I got each other things for our Easter baskets and we hid them. Although it was our third year celebrating Easter living together, it was our first year celebrating as a married couple. We hadn't done Easter baskets or dying of Easter eggs in the previous years. We were hopeful that the following year we'd have a little one in our home. We wanted to start creating family traditions.

This year we didn't follow those traditions. We went to the Easter Vigil Mass to hopefully avoid families on Easter Sunday. My heart ached with every cry of a fussy baby that was there (if you have young children and they are crying/fussing during church please take them out. You never know who's heart is completely breaking while your child cries). My heart ached at the site of the little boys in their suits, especially a super adorable little boy about 4 years old. He wore a bow tie. I know Mike would have gotten bow ties for Marcellus, since he wore one at our wedding.

We went for a hike, we "cemetery hopped" bringing white tulips to a couple of babies we know (we may not have ever met them, but we know them so well through their mommies) from group, we brought white tulips to his tree, and we had dinner at some friends' house where I made things awkward with my "dead baby talk" (or at least I feel like I made it awkward).

And I cried. I cried for Marcellus. I cried that we didn't have our Easter baskets out with a little one for our sweet 5 month old. I cried that he'll never get to know the deliciousness of a Cadbury Creme Egg. I cried that neither of my babies are here with me. But I especially cried that my son, my sweet baby boy, who was supposed to bring me complete healing after placing Angela for adoption and be with me on my 9th Easter without her is instead buried in the ground in MN.

But that day that has such significance in the start of my babies' lives, has been significant long long before my lifetime. Those days, Good Friday and Easter Sunday, they do bring me hope. Jesus died on the cross and he rose from the dead. And with that the promise of eternal life. The promise that I will see my son again, that we will be together for all eternity.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. - John 3:16

I try to especially focus on that verse this Easter season, but it's hard. I do have hope of seeing Marcellus again, but it doesn't make me think "Oh okay, I don't want him here now if I'll see him again anyway." I still ache for him, I still long for him, I still want him here on earth with me, with his momma. I want nothing more than to hold him in my arms and rock him. But he's safe. I know my precious baby boy is safe in the arms of Jesus and will be until I can hold him again.  

  

Marcellus, Momma wishes you could have been here to celebrate Easter with us this year. Instead you celebrated in Heaven with Jesus. I can't even imagine what a celebration that was. While I know you are safe and that I will see you again, I want nothing more than to have you in my arms now. The rest of my life seems like forever without you. We will have forever together though sweet boy. Mommy can't wait for that day when we are reunited! Tell Jesus thank you for dying on the cross for us. Let Him hold you tight, rock you, and hug and kiss you for Mommy. I hope He tells you all about me and how much I love you and miss you. Loving you with all my heart my little mister! xoxox