Most everyone can agree that Christmas is Magical!
But it becomes something different as you grow. When you’re a kid it’t all about Santa and his impossible trip around the world. You wake up at the crack of dawn to go find out what the magical man left for you and spend the day giddy with new toys and sugar running through your veins. As you grow older the excitement doesn’t wear off so much as shift focus from Santa and his fantastical reindeer to the gift giving itself. You spent lots of time thinking and shopping for your friends and family members and want to see their face when they open up your gift for them.
From there the evolution continues. As the season ripens every year, you think about and shop for your loved ones, and remember the one who loves all of us most of all- the real reason for the season- Christ. As you grow up, get married, have children… You focus shifts again from the gift giving (which is still existent of course,) to teaching your kids about Santa Clause, and more importantly, Christ’s birth.
Because of this natural progression of “Christmas spirit,” so to say, this Christmas didn’t feel like Christmas to me at all.
Where, in that natural progression of things, does an angel mother’s Christmas fall?
To be honest, even after last week’s post, I didn’t feel like the season would be too horribly bad for me. Until Christmas Eve, I had managed to be somewhat light and positive about the season of giving. I had a good time looking for gifts for my family and friends, and out did myself with little (and one big) things for my husband… But Christmas Eve rolled around and all over again my life seemed upside-down. After seeing the two pink lines on a pregnancy test last February I never planned on a childless Christmas again. I didn’t want one either. I forced myself to visit their unmarked graveside with a little Christmas tree, and cried that I was spending my Christmas eve looking at the ground where the perfect little bodies I spend most of this year building lay. Wishing those bodies could be here, full of life, growing, giggling, like their two cousins were this Christmas.
I had thought my Christmas would go by without much incident, without much longing… But the day was long and sad for me. The day was a painful and blatant reminder of what is missing from my life, what I’d give anything to have again.
Yes, time has passed since my perfect angels birth, and death. In fact, yesterday marked 4 months from their birthday, August 26th. But four months, or even four years, will do little to soften the ache I feel, the loss I’m learning to live with. So, please, if you know me, or anyone going through a loss this holiday season, don’t ask them to “get over it.” Not with your words nor actions. Have patience, and forgive us if we choose not to participate in all of the festivities or pictures. Remember that above all else, this season is supposed to be a refuge and escape from the world where one can be reminded of happiness and hope, not a time for expectations of “moving on” to be pushed onto someone who isn’t ready.
Love people. Try to be like Christ and help us, don’t make this time harder.
I apologies if the nature of this post is a little more rant/vent-ish. Christmas was hard on me and I need some time to write a more positive or uplifting post.