Photo credit: Elizabeth Gioia Photography
Every
year the pressure of the holidays as a parent mounts to the point where you
can’t wait to just pack all that shit up and call it a year. Between that awful little elf that we never
remember to move until we’ve settled into bed for the night and the mountain of
gifts to wrap because I had convinced myself that I hadn’t bought enough for
the kid, it’s enough to make me lose my mind.
And then there’s the Christmas card.
Usually
I am as guilty as the next mom, scouring Pinterest for semi-original ideas for
Christmas cards; stockpiling coupon codes for websites peddling overpriced
options that will help make my family look more polished than we really
are. This year is different. This year no matter what we do, how much
money we spend, how big my little girl Kennedy smiled (a huge fete for a child
that never does), there will still be something missing from the card this
year: My son. The baby boy that left us
so soon after he was born.
After
giving birth to Jack and losing him, I can remember being fixated on an
announcement. I wanted it to be perfect;
I had one chance to get it right for him.
There was no ready-made card to announce a child whose beautiful life
began and ended all in one day. And so I
had to make one. I poured my heart into
the one photo that would be mailed out of my boy.
So I
began obsessing over the idea of a Christmas card back in early October. What would it look like, what would it
say? How could I include Jack on it
without appearing to have lost my mind along with a huge part of my heart? What about the photo itself? How could I include him in it without him
being here? These are the thoughts that
were circling around inside my mind. And
it killed me, made me furious even. This
should be his first Christmas and he should be spending it with his
family. It’s not supposed to be like
this.
I
scheduled to have Kennedy’s pictures taken, but only hers. I couldn’t bear the thought of Jack being the
only one not in the photo. I racked my
brain trying to figure out how to make his presence at least felt. We decided to include the tiny stuffed
elephant that Kennedy had picked out for her brother; the very same one we’d
brought to the hospital to be with him as he slept. Even though our baby boy never made it home,
his elephant returned with us and it’s brought a small amount of comfort to
us. It will always be his. And so he was in the picture. And the results
were pure magic, like a soother for my broken soul. A family friend took them and it was as if
she could sense how we ached for it to be something amazing. I signed the card with just our family name,
refusing to leave his name off but not being able to bring myself to type it,
praying Jack will still find his way into people’s homes and hearts this
holiday season.
Photo credit: Elizabeth Gioia Photography
Photo credit: Elizabeth Gioia Photography
Photo credit: Elizabeth Gioia Photography
Photo credit: Elizabeth Gioia Photography
And
so, mamas out there, while you try and create a Christmas card this year to
convey to everyone how wonderful life is, try and remember that as long as
you’ve got all of your children in the picture, that’s pretty damn good. It
will be beautiful. It will be perfect.
This past weekend we also bought our Christmas tree. We thought we’d picked a good one at the tree
farm, and we had, that is, if you ignore the Charlie Brownish bottom part. We brought it in the house and immediately I
began to curse the thing as it dropped needles the second it came through the
door. You see I love a real tree,
truly. The smell, the look, the hunt for
the perfect one, but trust me it’s tempting to think I could go a day or two
without sweeping up those damn needles and buy a fake.
Once it was up and we got the lights on it, I felt a bit of lightness in
my chest- like I was enjoying the holiday things I’ve always loved. But it was relatively short-lived. Sean brought up the ornament box from the
basement and it took everything we had to pace Kennedy from ripping into it.
We had received a few ornaments from my mom and one from the
Ohana Foundation Inc. to hang for Jack on our tree this year. My sister quietly hung a baby’s 1st
Christmas ornament outside on Jack’s tree, which Sean and I loved seeing more
than we could say. I had been prepared
for the holiday’s hurting in the ways you’d expect but it was the ways I hadn’t
anticipated that hurt the most. While
unwrapping some ornaments from the box I open one that just about stopped my
heart. By the time I realized what it
was, it was too late. I sobbed as I
looked at the little snowman family with Kennedy, Sean, and my name written on
it, the mommy snowman having a baby bump and Jack’s name on it.
It wasn’t the ornament itself that upset me. Not at all actually, we had the same type of
thing bought for us when we were expecting Kennedy that we hang up every
year. It’s that nothing comes after
that. With Kennedy there is her first,
second, third and there will be more and more to come.
I know that is the case with anything; birthdays, holidays,
milestones. But knowing it and having to swallow that pill down so often are
two different beasts. As with most
instances likes these, I get knocked off my feet a bit, wobble a bit, struggle to
catch my breath and then see her. Simply
the sight of her breathes some life back into my lungs and into my broken heart
and keeps me going. So for now I just
brace myself for what this season brings.
