The perfect gift of love. Her arrival date was Christmas Day. Her funeral came shortly after. She lived and died inside of me. I cradled her silent body and kissed her sleeping eyes. I held her tight until she was taken away. My baby. My gift. My love.

The air was filled with the scent of mince pies, laughter, twinkling lights, off-key carols, and the sound of paper being torn. Everything was bright, though the colour had faded for me and Matt. Our angel would have been a year older today. She would have shone as brightly as the star atop our tree.

Sammy rolled around under the Christmas tree, his long body crushing the presents, while his giggle brought a smile that creased my laughter lines. I stroked his reindeer sleepsuit, his eyes meeting mine. He was growing up too quickly. Time was passing. She would have adored her little brother.

We watched as the snow fell past our window. Sammy’s first snowfall. Each flake brought him so much joy. ‘No! No!’. He couldn’t manage the ‘s’ for ‘snow’ yet. The gentle lullaby of Silent Night hung in the air, and for a moment, I thought I heard her voice singing along.

Candles flickered in the lounge, warmed by a roaring fire. Grandparents snored as The Snowman played for Sammy on the television. Aunts, uncles, and cousins guffawed as they played a board game. Matt and I stood on our decking in the bitter cold, gazing up at the inky night sky and the stars pushing through the darkness. Would we meet her again one day?

I kissed Sammy’s forehead as he slept, exhausted from another Christmas Day. Five years had passed. I was pregnant again. Inside me, another life was forming. Another gift. The angel decoration hung on our tree, the one we bought for our darling girl. We may have lost our baby, but heaven gained her. Our daughter may have missed out on meeting her family for now, but she gained a direct ticket to heaven, shielded from the sadness of the world. The perfect gift of love.