The Crosby Show: Christmas Eves and Hope

Merry Christmas

From the Crosby Show!

Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.

2 Corinthians 9:15

Card Design by Kandace Gerber at Save The Date Designs. Contact her on Facebook here.

Photo by Reba Cauley at Cauley Photography. Contact her on Facebook here.

I've debated on whether or not I should share this story. I feel like I've really been very open and honest on this space so far because I want to share Crosby's story and document our family's journey by being as authentic as possible. Even the hard stuff. The following is extremely personal and a topic that I haven't talked much about. A lot of our family and friends probably don't even know some it. But, I decided to share this not to splay a sensitive story out there for everyone to read, but to acknowledge that there can be a lot of hurt in this Season. And that hurt can be amplified during this time when everything around you is suppose to be merry and jolly. Instead of feeling joyous, lots of people are suffering, feeling alone, in pain, depressed, and dealing with loss. I know some of those feelings well. But there can also be a lot of hope in this season. And that's what Crosby reminds me to hold on to. Hope.

Christmas Eve 2011. Christmas Eve traditions are important to Lance and I. A lot of hard things had happened that year and we were looking forward to spending the holidays together.

We also had a very big secret during that time. I was pregnant. It was unexpected but we were happy. We had told our parents, siblings and my best friend. We were waiting until we were in the "safe zone" before telling everyone else. So I passed on holiday spirits and drank mocktails while making merry. Lance and I made our Christmas plans and told him, just think, this time next year we'll have a 5 month old!

Fast forward to Christmas Eve. I was two days shy of being 12 weeks along. As we were literally heading out the door to church, it happened. It was obvious what was going on. I felt panicked and out of control. Lance called my doctor because I couldn't speak. We were told to wait and see. So we waited and then when it became apparently clear that it was happening, I couldn't control the scream that came out of my mouth. Around midnight it was definite that I needed medical attention, so Lance helped me to the car and we made our way to the ER.

Not the wonderful, cozy Christmas we had been envisioning. It was painful. Both physically and emotionally painful. I took the loss hard. I mourned what would never be. So Lance and I picked up the pieces after that Christmas and all I could be thankful for was that I still had him and we were together. Still to this day, thinking about that time can bring me to tears.

Christmas Eve 2012. Would you believe me if I told you that Lance and I spent the next Christmas in the ER again? (I should point out that we're not the type of people who rush to the ER all the time either!) Because of the previous year's less than ideal Christmas, we decided last year to spend our first Christmas as a married couple in New York City. Some friends of mine have a beautiful apartment in the heart of Manhattan and had graciously allowed us to occupy it for a long weekend. We had a wonderful trip, but the night before we were scheduled to fly home, Lance (who has an affinity for this) passed out at a concert in Times Square and hit his head. Hard. It literally bounded off the concrete. After we were taken to the ER by ambulance because he wasn't making any sense once he came to, we learned he had fractured his skull and had a concussion.

Spending that Christmas Eve in the ER was stressful for me and not very fun for Lance, who was pretty much incapacitated and incoherent for some time. We were alone, scared and missing our families. But something truly magical was happening and we wouldn't even find out about it until 5 weeks later. I only thought I was alone with Lance in that ER off 58th and 9th. Someone else was with us. And that someone else was Crosby. He only existed then in the form of several hundred little dividing cells. But he existed.

Christmas Eve 2013. God has redeemed my heartache from those two Christmases ago. I can now give thanks for that loss because it brought me Crosby, who carries my heart and soul. And he is why I have hope.

I know this year has been tough for me with my Dad's death and Crosby's diagnosis. But there are people who are battling even harder things. Things I couldn't even imagine. A widow spending her first Christmas without her husband. A mother who's arms are empty this Christmas after the loss of a child. Communities in upheaval from violence. A family torn a part by divorce. A man who just resigned his medical care to hospice. Veterans who feel lost and lonely and out of touch with the rest of us. A grandmother who feels forgotten, spending Christmas in a nursing home. A woman who can't be with her children and family because she is hospitalized, battling cancer. A couple who longs for babies but who have given up on their fight with infertility. Orphans who only want to be loved and a family of their own. I truly have a heart for folks whose heartbreaks are amplified by this Season.

We live in an imperfect world. A world filled with incredible sadness and all these painful things. But we also live in a world where there is hope. And without hope we have nothing.

So this Christmas Eve, when I pull Crosby close to snuggle him, I will be reminded of that. I'm going to choose to believe in hope. And Crosby. I rejoice in him. The symbol of hope that he is.

Love, Peace and Hope,

Carmen