Last Easter, I was newly pregnant with Linus. By this time I had buried another son and was scared that my new pregnancy would have a similar outcome. We opened baskets at home and headed out to Mass. We were a few minutes late and couldn't find a parking spot. I didn't want to stand outside the opened church doors with the kids in order to listen to the Mass, so we took a trip to the park for pictures. Then, we had yet another Easter dinner at Red Lobster. Was this to be our new tradition? Secretly, I hoped not. I wanted Easter back. Could I bring myself to celebrate Easter again? I told myself that whether or not I was holding a baby next year, I would have to let Easter back into my life.
Today, I took a trip to the grocery store and bought everything I need to prepare Easter dinner. We have cheese and sausage, a leg of lamb, potatoes, brussel sprouts, and everything I need to make cherry and blueberry pies and cookies.
While we made some nice memories the past two years, and I have hundreds of pictures of the kids, I am happy to be spending Easter home with the nine loves of my life. I am looking forward to coloring eggs, decorating the house, and dressing up the little man like a bunny.
Welcome back, Easter. I have missed you.