When Christmas doesn’t just bring happy feelings …




Christmas time is my absolute favourite.


The fairy lights.

The food.

The social gatherings.

The shopping.

The Christmas carols.

I even adore the slightly frantic energy in the air.


I knew Christmas this year would be hard.


One of the feelings I felt when we found out we were pregnant again this time was relief. The thought of being pregnant again at Christmas time felt like the antidote to having to feel the sadness of ‘who would be missing this year.’


So it feels like a double punch to the stomach to be mourning two babies at this time of year. The one that should be in my arms and the other who should be safely tucked in my womb.


And yet even writing these words I know neither are true.  If everything had ‘gone to plan’ the second loss would never have even happened, would never have existed.


I oscillate between believing everything happens for a reason and being able to grasp the meaning of it all, and wanting to just shout ‘this is just fucked!’


My mind mulls over things like ‘maybe this has happened again because you weren’t really feeling it’. Which sounds absurd but if I’m really honest I did push my feelings about losing Orion somewhere down near my toes and tried to just walk on with life as normal.


I told myself ‘many women lose babies and this is just your loss. Next time everything will be fine.’


I didn’t dwell on the sadness of it all and after the first few weeks I really did turn off the emotions for the most part.


I went back to teaching pregnancy yoga and teaching about birth.

I kept sharing classes online.

I had women in my online studio writing to me thanking me for my yoga classes on grief, but also wondering how I was sharing this when my own was so fresh.


I don’t think I realised it until it happened again that it’s because I turned it off.


I wasn’t feeling it so I could share in a semi-detached way.


Sure, I did occasionally feel it.

In quiet moments when I remembered the date.

Or when the moon reminded me of how long it had been since we lost him.

Or when a thought flashed through my mind before I could realise that was a dream of things no longer happening.


And maybe that’s how it has to happen. In a way you have to turn off the grief in order to go on. Otherwise it kills you too.


I don’t know. Maybe there is no meaning and it’s just how we cope with grief. By assigning a meaning to events so we can reconcile them as a part of our lives. Because without meaning we end up staying trapped in the ‘this is fucked stage’ forever.


Either way I don’t want to be so quick to turn off this time. I don’t think I can afford to switch off this time, or if I would even be able to. I feel like I’ve felt it more this time (if that’s even possible.) I guess it’s the fact that this loss has dredged up all those feeling from last time as well.


I’ve got some work to do.


I’ve booked myself in to see a holistic counsellor in the new year.


I’ve started journaling again daily, even when I really don’t want to, when I’d rather bury my head in my pillow and cry. I find those days I need words the most.


I’m letting myself sleep more and in doing so my dreams have returned. Something that hasn’t happened since before I fell pregnant with Orion. Last night I dreamed of a baby boy. I was bathing him and I didn’t know whether he was a girl or a boy, until I lifted him up and heard my own voice exclaim ‘oh hello little man’. It makes me wonder whether maybe this last baby was a boy too or perhaps it’s just my subconscious just playing tricks on me.


I’m really trying to disconnect more. Finding time for more meditation and stillness in my days. I know distraction played a big part in how I was able to disconnect from the feelings last time and I’m trying not to fall back into that same habit.


We’re about to go on holidays next week and I’m really looking forward to turning my phone off and trying to only use my camera to capture our moments. To take some time to reflect and plan for next year.


I don’t know that there will be a resolution to any of these feelings. Or that if any thing will help ease what I know is going to be an emotional Christmas.


But I guess there is comfort to be found in knowing that I’m doing all I can.


Just a little FYI, I plan to release a book mid-2017 on healing from loss. If you’d like to be the first to know when this book is available or if you’d like to contribute your story, please add your details here.

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