celebrations – thelifeididntchoose

Best Christmas Gift EVER

I’ve had plenty of beautiful Christmases.

I’ve had almost a decade of more somber ones.

But when our pastor recently asked, “What was the best Christmas gift you ever received?” I didn’t have to think hard at all.

It was my daughter, Fiona.

She wasn’t born ON Christmas but a week before-today is her birthday-and I was oh, so glad to finally hold that tiny bundle in my arms instead of in my belly.

My first successful pregnancy (I’d miscarried a year before) was a long, hard and difficult one. I never achieved that “glow” so many women enjoy while hormones guaranteeing baby’s health and safety surged through my system.

Instead I was desperately ill for the first four months as I wrapped up my college degree. (In hindsight, taking biology at six in the morning was a bad choice.) I spent many of those days in close communion with the toilet or a bowl when I couldn’t muster the energy to get to the bathroom.

I had a few short golden weeks before my body revolted once again and I developed a serious case of preeclampsia. Now my doctor visits were weekly and included fetal monitoring.

Back then there were few interventions for this condition so it was wait and see, wait and see all the while I counted days and weeks until I could reach the magic “thirty-four week” mark of likely viability.

Thankfully, we made it!

But then that little Miss decided to assert her personality and refuse to make an entrance.

So…finally…I was scheduled to deliver ten full days after her due date of December 8th.

It was a long day of pitocin, contractions, no progress and a swift trip to the OR for what ended up being an emergency C-section. Drama all the way!

She was here, safe and sound, in my arms at last.

There are lots of things I don’t remember in detail about that day or even the week that followed but I remember this: I knew in my bones that life would never be the same. This precious child made me a mama and my heart would forever be wrapped around hers.

I’m so very thankful I had the blessing of three more little ones after that.

I’m grateful for the lives they’ve lived and the ones they are living now.

I miss my third-born, Dominic. His birth story is woven just as firmly into the fabric of my being as Fiona’s and that of her other brothers.

I can’t pick out his threads without unraveling the whole cloth.

And I don’t want to.

I celebrate today the gift of motherhood and the gift of children.

Even when one of them leaves too soon.

Love is always costly, but love is always worth the price.

Please Let Me Know You Remember

As families gather around tables and in backyards to celebrate fall birthdays, Thanksgiving and (soon!) Christmas, my heart longs even harder to hear Dominic’s name.

Of course I remember him-he’s my son-and of course others do too.

But it is especially helpful this time of year to have friends and family speak of him aloud.

Read the rest here: Let Me Know You Remember

Celebrations After Child Loss-Life at the Crossroads of Joy and Sorrow

I want to be everything my living children need me to be.

I try hard to celebrate them, be available, listen closely and love them well.

I never, ever want them to feel they are competing with their missing brother for my affection or my attention.

But I’d be lying if I said it was always easy.

Read the rest here: Crossroads: Celebrations After Child Loss

Grief and Jealousy: Reaching For What I Can’t Have

I thought I had at least a passing understanding of what grief is, what it feels like, how it impacts a heart before my son died.

But I was wrong.

Until you live with it day in and day out for weeks, months, years you really just. don’t. know.

There are so many feelings wrapped up in what we call grief. So many surprises along this path.

Who knew that the same heart that would do nearly ANYTHING to spare another parent the awful burden of child loss could also be wildly jealous of that same parent’s intact family?

Read the rest here: Jealousy-Reaching For What I Can’t Have

Standing At The Crossroads: Celebrations After Child Loss

I want to be everything my living children need me to be.

I try hard to celebrate them, be available, listen closely and love them well.

I never, ever want them to feel they are competing with their missing brother for my affection or my attention.

But I’d be lying if I said it was always easy.

Read the rest here: Crossroads: Celebrations After Child Loss

Celebrating the Good Things

Our family’s experience was a bit unusual though hardly unique.

In the two months after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven we had Easter, two graduations, a wedding, Mother’s Day and his birthday.

So we were thrust right into the uncomfortable whirlwind of celebration and mourning from the start.

I remember having to dig deep to let the happy come out through the muck and mire of sorrow.

But even then, it was there.

Six years later and it’s much easier to let laughter loose and produce a genuine smile for those Kodak camera moments.

Six years later there are a heap of things to be happy about not the least of which is the addition of this little fella to the family circle.

From frightening beginnings to a first birthday full of love, laughter, food and fun my grandson has come a long, long way.

A couple of days ago was the one year anniversary of his coming home from NICU-what a glorious day when he made that trip safely and slept the first night in his crib next to his parents’ bed!

I am still in awe of how this story (that could have had a much different ending) has a beautiful one.

Last night his dad FaceTimed us and we got to see our little Captain cutting up, laughing, taking a few tentative steps, reacting to our voices and generally having a great time.

It’s balm to my soul.

It doesn’t fill the space where Dominic should be but it has enlarged my heart once again.

If you are wondering if you will ever feel joy or gladness again, hang on.

Celebrate the good things even when it’s hard.

It’s not treason to let love and laughter back in.

❤

Life Is A Gift: Celebrate!!

There will be plenty of frustrating moments, plenty of fearful moments and plenty of just plain ordinary moments during this unprecedented worldwide season of slowing down.
But there can be beautiful moments too. There are hidden blessings in this forced family togetherness.
Practice finding them, practice making them, practice wrapping them up in love and grace.
If you’ve been waiting for an excuse to get the best plates down from the top shelf I’d say today’s the day!
Make some memories.
❤ Melanie

I have never been a crystal and china kind of gal.

I got a few special pieces when my husband and I married, but most of the things in my home are durable and useful.

So I don’t have many things tucked away for special occasions.

I’m glad that when my kids were young we made even ordinary days special.

Read the rest herehttps://thelifeididntchoose.com/2019/03/31/life-is-a-gift-celebrate-every-single-day/

Crossroads: Celebrations After Child Loss

I want to be everything my living children need me to be.

I try hard to celebrate them, be available, listen closely and love them well.

I never, ever want them to feel they are competing with their missing brother for my affection or my attention.

But I’d be lying if I said it was always easy.

Sometimes the happy moment so closely resembles a shared memory that includes Dominic, my heart takes my head in directions I wish it wouldn’t go. Sometimes it’s a long awaited once-in-a-lifetime occasion and Dom’s absence is a giant, gaping hole everywhere I look.

It’s really hard to be stuck at the crossroad of being happy for a child still here while mourning and missing the child that’s gone.

I’ve had to do that many, many times in the five years since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven and I’ve found a couple of things that help.

I put something in my pocket or wear a piece of jewelry that is a token of my love for Dominic.

It helps me feel as if he’s represented even if no one else knows about it. Then I lean in and take hold of the celebration as best as I can. When I feel overwhelmed, I touch my little token and/or escape to a quiet corner or bathroom for a minute or two and collect myself.

I also try to do something called “pre-grieving”.

I allow myself time early in the morning of an event to be alone and cry if I need to. If the tears won’t come, I listen to music that helps my heart reach that place of release. I journal my feelings. I walk through the day and admit where it might be especially challenging. I think through how I can deal with that and make a plan.

It makes a difference.

So much has been stolen from my surviving children.

I don’t want them robbed of their mama too.

Child Loss: Setting Aside Time To Grieve Helps My Heart Hold On

One of the commitments I made out loud and in my heart the day Dominic left us was this: I was not going to let his death tear my family apart.

I was not going to let him become the sainted brother that stood apart and above his siblings.

I was going to continue to give as much of my time, effort, love and presence to each of the three I had left as I had done when there were four on earth beside me.

I’ve been more or less successful in keeping this promise.

I have no doubt that if you asked my living children, they could give you examples when I’ve failed. Some days are just too much. Some events are too hard to attend.

Some moments I am overwhelmed

and undone

and there’s no way to hide it.

But I’ve learned a few things that help me be present, attentive and joyful for the beautiful things that are happening around me.

One of those is to set aside time whenever possible to “pre-grieve” an upcoming celebration or gathering.

I allow my heart to feel all the things it needs to feel. I journal the questions and comments and (sometimes) anger that would otherwise overflow and ruin a moment. I write to Dominic and tell him how much I miss him, how much I wish he were here and how very hard it is to mark another happy occasion without him.

I mentally rehearse walking in, greeting people, making small talk.

I think ahead to any big moments that might tap emotions I need to hold in check. I even plan an “escape route” should I need it. Just knowing it exists has always been enough so far.

Sometimes I find a song that suits my mood.

I cry.

And then I choose a token I can wear or slip in my pocket to remind me that I’ve got this.

I can show up and smile (honestly) because I’ve already loosed the dam of grief and let the stored up torrent flow over the spillway.

I’ve learned the hard way that memories are precious. I don’t want the ones I’m making now to always be tainted by sorrow and loss.

Dominic is never far from my thoughts and always in my heart.

I’m not abandoning nor forgetting him.

I honor him by honoring his siblings.

Love lives.

I Don’t Have to Choose Between Sorrow and Celebration

Our family is looking forward to Spring and also dreading it.

This year we will welcome a new baby (my first grandchild) and also celebrate my daughter’s wedding to a wonderful man.

Our family is growing again!

But we will also mark the fifth year anniversary of Dominic leaving for Heaven and another birthday that he won’t be here to greet.

I’m pretty sure tears will be shed on each of these days and they will be salty-sweet, sad and happy, sorrowful and celebratory-all at once.

There are no more hard lines in my life that separate events into distinct categories where only a single set of emotions is appropriate. Instead my heart’s a watercolor mosaic where one feeling washes into another, darker colors make the lighter ones brighter.

My daughter recently wrote her own blog post, Guest Books & Memory Tables: A Sibling’s Perspective on Love and Loss.

Here’s an excerpt:

“Even Hobby Lobby reminds me that if I’m remembering anyone at my wedding it should be the family legends of generations past, not current. Somewhere in my carefully- packed boxes of wedding decorations, sits frames and mementos for mine and my fiance’s grandparents and my forever-frozen-in-time 23 year old brother.

I highly recommend you read the whole thing. She’s done a beautiful job sharing from a sibling’s perspective.

Her wedding day will be full of great joy and celebration and also some sorrow as we take pictures of the whole family minus one.

I might be laughing one minute and crying the next.

And that’s OK.

No need to fake it.

It’s ALL part of life. ❤

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