![]()
This time last year we were in the hospital and so this is our first Christmas with Gwendolyn at home (although last year at this time we still thought our baby was going to recover from her initial diagnosis, infant botulism, and that we would have many opportunities to create Christmas memories with Gwendolyn). And so, while we are home this year (knock on wood), it is with a heavy heart and a sense of urgency to make it extra special. We find ourselves risking a little more exposure because we want Gwendolyn to have certain experiences and we want to have those experiences with her. We find ourselves pushing to do things that we may only get to do this year, once. We find ourselves constantly aware of how blessed we are to have Gwendolyn in our lives — knowing she will not always be, which feels unbelievable. We want to create memories this Christmas for Gwendolyn, but also for ourselves, for us as a family of three. And so, we hang the lights and stockings and ornaments. We marvel at Gwendolyn as she marvels at these traditions. We stop, allow ourselves a good cry at the “Baby's First Christmas” and the tiny foot print ornaments being hung for the first and, perhaps, the only time. But, we carry on. We wipe away the tears. And we clamor to hold onto the good in this season, while we can, while we can share it with our little girl.
