I used to love Easter. From the concept of eternal freedom and life to redemption and forgiveness of sins to endless Love, from minutely detailed painted eggs to dyed chicks and bunnies (like they used to do to baby animals when I was a girl), from chocolate and malted milk birds eggs to peeps and yes, even jelly beans which I never really liked because they made my teeth hurt -- I loved Easter. But in 1998, on this day, Easter Eve, I lost my last child David Oso at 21 weeks of pregnancy. I too nearly died, almost bled to death. I never got to see his face or hold him, to nurse him, to change him, to watch him play, hear him laugh, smell his hair.
The following year, chemotherapy and consequences from cancer treatments removed any possibility of my bearing another child.
And for those reasons and so many, many more, today I cry. Forgive me if I can't get into Easter celebrations. I am thankful He and he are risen. But the mother in me selfishly mourns and refuses to rejoice.~~GHC