Dear Andrew,

It's Christmas eve and your missing presence is felt by all of us.  I think we've talked about you as much as if you were here in real life.  It's a hard holiday.  One that is build around a baby and brings home the fact that you are missing.  It's such a children's holiday and there are babies everywhere.  I thought it might not be that bad at home but it is.  Everywhere we go there are little babies dressed up in Christmas clothes and posing for photos with Santa.  You are supposed to be here in your little Christmas pjs.  You are supposed to be having your first photo with Santa.  You are supposed to be here.

I wonder if you would've been a happy baby.  Would you have screamed when we put you on Santa's lap?  Would you have giggled or cried?  What would it be like to be cuddling with you here in the snow and freezing cold?  What would you be like with your grandparents?  Our lives should be so different right now.  So much happier and filled with excitement.  Instead, we are buying ornaments commemorating your short little life.

I've been trying to hide the tears from our family during this visit.  I don't want to get everyone else upset.  But sometimes I can't help but cry at the thought of what should be.  I know your grandparents miss you.  They have so much here that was supposed to be for your visit this month.  You were going to be so spoiled!

The other day I walked downstairs and the song I used to play for you in-utero was on the radio.  It instantly brought tears to my eyes.  Not that that is a difficult feat now a days.  I remember the first time I played it for you.  You kicked me so hard but I took that as a sign that you liked it.  And now I can't hear the song without thinking of you.

We miss you so much. I hope you know just because we can't visit your grave during Christmas we are still loving you and missing you from afar.  So much more that you even realized baby boy.  I love you.