Christmas Eve 11 years ago – The first time I held my baby boy. He was 19 days old. In a hospital across the other side of London and we were still unsure if he would survive.
The pain I felt then was incredible.
All I wanted for Christmas was to hold my baby and to bring him home. For him to survive and experience a life outside of his Perspex box, monitors, tubes and needles.
It is nothing compared to the pain I am feeling now. Facing my first Christmas without my first born child.
All I want for Christmas is Lennon. To see his face beaming at the sights of Christmas lights, feel
his hands slap me on the back as he watches his sisters getting excited for Santa and to watch him throwing spoons across the table while we eat Christmas dinner.
In the run up to Christmas, every year my thoughts are consumed by our time spent at Chelsea and Westminster. Sitting over Lennon’s Perspex box, the monitors flashing and singing. Walking up and down the Fulham Road in between the tube station and the hospital, day after day. Christmas lights and charming decorations everywhere.
The shops full of gifts, and passers by full of Christmas cheer. The gigantic Christmas tree in the hospital lobby.
Entering the hospital with promise for the day ahead. Thoughts that today would be the day my baby would turn this around.
Leaving the hospital in a cloud of dark and sadness, reliving the awful events of each day.
Ever since Lennon’s birthday I have had an urge to return to Chelsea and Westminster. To retake my steps and see Christmas on the Fulham road.
Why? Because I am looking for something. I don’t know what. Maybe memories. But why am I looking for sad memories and not happy ones?
Maybe because I have been consumed by sadness since Lennon died. There are glimmers of happiness there, occasionally. I try to hold on tightly to them, but they slip through my fingers so very quickly.
If I could hide in bed for the next few days, believe me I would. But I won’t – my girls need me. Ian needs me. My girls deserve to have the most fantastic Christmas and to know that their brother will be looking down on them, expecting them to be enjoying every second of Christmas. For themselves, and for him.
He will be the sparkle in their eyes while they are opening presents, playing games and spreading joy.
I’ll look for that sparkle and hold on to it tightly.