In so many ways the grief of losing Toren has eased. Time doesn't heal but doing grief work helps you learn to live with devastating sorrow, so as time progresses you feel better in a lot of ways. With an air of confidence and shallow expertise, people on the outside consider this "time" "healing" wounds.
This is the 4th Christmas since Toren died but instead of feeling the progressive sense of relief that time is supposed to bring, I feel so angry and sad.
5 Christmases ago, in 2006, I silently smiled to myself and thought that the number of holiday's spent with just my husband and I were almost over. One year after that we were both reeling and numb from our son's death. The next Christmas I was one month out from hubby abandoning our sinking ship of a marriage and from being hospitalized for a suicide attempt. Again I was numb.
Last year the holiday was spent with my sweet new boyfriend :) He moved in last weekend! However he's been away for work for 2 weeks so things have not been as fun as anticipated.
At times I feel so much peace and so much relief those very, very hard years are in the past. I am lucky. I am loved. But then I'm also pretty damn pissed off to be spending another Christmas without children!
I had wanted 3 children, and would have had to have them almost back to back given my advancing maternal age (ugh!). So had things gone according to plan, Toren would be a few months shy of 3 years old right now, and he would have a sibling, and plans for the third baby would be in progress. This parallel life makes this holiday feel so quiet. And it is a reminder that I probably will not have time to birth 3 living children, and even though I don't want that many anymore, it is still a dream to wave goodbye to.
If I don't have a baby on the way next Christmas (that looks like it will live), I am going to freak out.
How are y'all holding up this holiday season?
Thursday, December 9, 2010
The woman at the cafe counter was very kind to me today and called me "Sweetie". Was this inspired by a recent customer service pep-talk, something joyful in her life, or a compassionate reaction to my face that is blotchy and red from weeping through a therapy session? After 3 years of productive therapy how is there still anything to cry about?