Christmas was never a good holiday for me growing up. It was always more hassle than what it was worth (coming from a divorced family it was stressful at the best of times). I’ll admit when I got pregnant I was excited for the coming winter holidays. I’d have my bump so people could tell themselves I was expecting, and more importantly it gave me hope that the joy of Christmas would finally come back to me again, and stay for the years to come.
I remember talking of all the wonderful things that would happen in the new year with a baby. I remember people asking about baby’s first Christmas and what we had planned. I remember responding with the stereotypical expectant parent banter ‘”Well I’m not too sure where we will be this time next year- it all depends on the wee one – he’ll only be 9 months then”. Dreaming of a future that you take for granted will come.
Now as I said before, it didn’t hold much meaning for me before losing my son, but the emptiness after his death was brutal. I remember that first Christmas like each detail was burned into my memory. All the joy, all the hope, all the plans for a magical season – gone. I lost Christmas – again! And you can’t escape it – thanks to commercialism – it is literally everywhere.
Seeing all the kids at the mall sit with Santa. Any holiday festivity, be it dinner, a show, or anything local, always inundated with kids. The holiday-themed family photos arrive via mail, featuring all the other people and their kids. Friends, co-workers, and in general, anyone you speak to about christmas has some kind of child in relation to it. Kids, kids, kids…it really is a kid holiday.
To make my personal matters worse, a rule had been implemented in my family years before to ease up on everyones budgets- no presents for anyone over 12. How awful a notion for someone with no children. My christmas gift list now rests solely on my parents and my spouse so I actually take some part in the holiday (even though it “breaks the rules”).
As much as I try to be okay with the fact that I still take part, it’s heavily overshadowed by the fact I have no one (close) under 12 to shop for. Also I try to envision me walking into Toys R Us, to do said shopping, signs and christmas everywhere, and coming out with decent gifts — it usually plays out with me leaving in a PTSD meltdown.
So, what is one to do?
This year I started a new tradition, back in January. It’s my 2015 goodness list. Anytime anything happened this year that I deemed “good”, it was jotted down to be reflected upon when winter hit and I knew I would get very blue. The only goal: at least 12 entries, one good thing a month.
I’ve gone from only looking at it when something needed to be added, to reviewing it weekly as the year comes to an end.
It reminds me there are other good things in my life worth remembering.
It reminds me that all the effort I put in to keep going day in and day out pays off.
I can reflect back on this year confidently knowing I tried and goodness came of it – and that alone gives me that little shred of hope that Christmas, and all it’s magic, is still there. I didn’t lose it per say – it’s just different. A little harder to come by but it’s still good.
The grief from the unexplainable loss, and subsequent miscarriages, proved near impossible to handle for the young couple causing them to loose themselves, and inevitably each other.
In time they were able to reunite, and resumed some semblance of a normal life. When it came around to trying again, each had their own conflicting thoughts and feelings that understandably ran deep. After soul searching and thoroughly disscusing it a shift happened.
Going into 2015 the decision was made to stop trying. Just let it go. Closing the door but not locking it. Taking some time to look around at the other doors in life. Maybe open a window or two 😉
Grappling with the choice to continue to live a childless life, Lindsay happened upon and joined the Still Mothers community. She hopes in sharing her experiences she can help those who for whatever reason are faced with living childless after loss.
- This Mother’s Day - May 2, 2016
- Thoughts on Your birthday - March 28, 2016
- Personal Trials at Work - February 17, 2016