My First Christmas in Heaven

When my husband and I miscarried in June in our second trimester, as I blogged many

times before, I started seeing a therapist. I have never miscarried before and I had no

idea what to expect. I thought it was best to be proactive and just stay ahead of whatever

emotions may be coming my way. When I met with the therapist, he told me that my

husband and I should do some sort of ritual to acknowledge the loss and the life. Here it

is in late August and I have just now gone ahead with this plan. My husband is not one

for rituals. If you invite us to your wedding, he will bolt before the reception, giving some

excuse. It is not that he is not happy for you, but he is just not a fan of weddings,

receptions or even funerals for that matter. Unfortunately, I can strong-arm him into

staying for funerals, two of which we have been at this year unfortunately. Nonetheless,

he always wants to leave right after the ceremony or funeral mass. He is not one to stay

around and celebrate or grieve. It is nothing personal. It is just his preference. Maybe it is

because he and I see each other so seldom, that when we do see each other, he does

not want to spend an entire day doing something that makes him uncomfortable.

At any rate, given his history to break out in a rash at the thought of any weddings or

funerals, a ritual for our daughter would not go over well. It just does not seem like us. For

those that went to our wedding, it was small and cool (if I may say so myself). We had a

27 minute Catholic ceremony with mass (we cut out all the optional things so the non-

Catholics would not be dreading an hour long mass) followed by food at a restaurant.

There was no band, there was no hokey pokey, and there was no first dance. Just

cocktails, food, a patio and I did force him to cut the cake. I even sent the photographer

home about an hour into the reception. We just wanted a nice night out for everyone. So,

when it came to a ritual marking the loss of our daughter, I had to do some thinking….

My first thought was to plant a tree. I know my Granddad planted a key lime tree in my

dad’s yard and every time I visit my dad, I love seeing that tree. It reminds me of my

grandfather. He was Mr. Green Jeans so it was fitting that he planted a tree and now this

beautiful, thriving tree is still there bearing fruit years after my grandfather passed in

2003. I mentioned possibly planting a tree to my husband, referencing the story of the

key lime tree, and he completely missed the point. His response was, “I don’t think a key

lime tree would grow well here. They need a subtropical climate.” Um….okay. The tree is

a no go. We did not need to plant a key lime tree – it was the idea of planting something

in honor of our daughter and watching it grow. I continued on my train of thought when

something came to me.

My late mom loooooved Christmas. She always wanted to open a “Christmas” store. In

the words of Tom Hanks in “Sleepless in Seattle” talking about his late wife, “Maggie

loved Christmas. She made everything [pause] beautiful.” So did my mom. Every

Christmas Eve we would go to the Yockels for appetizers, Shirley Temples and/or

cocktails. Then we would go to the 7:00 mass at our church together. When we got

home, my mom would make cheese fondue in front of the Christmas tree, picnic style on

the floor, with a salad. Then we got to open one gift, from our Aunt MJ. It was the same

every single year and I loved it. I too carry on that tradition. My husband is not a fan of

Swiss fondue, but bless him, he chows it down every Christmas Eve.

In addition, my mom always bought my brother and me a Christmas ornament every

year. On the back of it, she would write our names and the year. She said that when we

were grown, we would have dozens of Christmas ornaments from our childhood to start

on our own trees with our families each Christmas. I don’t know how or why she started

this tradition. I do know her mother, who died when I was two, was found passed away in

her bed of natural causes and next to her were Christmas ornaments she was making.

My mom kept those ornaments, even those that were unfinished, and we too placed

those on our tree each year. I have those ornaments now plus the ones my mom gave

me every year. Maybe my mom, in some part, wanted to make sure that she finished her

Christmas ornaments for us? I have 20 Christmas ornaments from my mom before she

passed as does my brother. So, every year, when I pull out the Christmas ornaments, I

have my grandmother’s ornaments, my ornaments from my mother, my mother’s

Christmas tree ornaments, and those ornaments my husband and I have bought when

we go on vacation. My husband and I have sort of carried on this tradition in that: a) We

give my nephew Owen a dated Christmas ornament every year (for those that know my

nephew, last year’s was a KISS ornament) so he too will have many ornaments one day

when he starts his family; and b) Whenever my husband and I go on vacation, or a pet

passes, we buy an ornament to commemorate our time together on vacation or to

acknowledge the parts of our furry family we have lost. My husband is so precious that

normally on vacation, whenever we enter a gift shop, he will be the first one to make a

beeline toward a Christmas ornament. If we go to a sporting event, he will look for a

Christmas ornament. Our Christmas tree symbolizes our families and our life together. In

short, once a year, when we put that tree up, it is sweet and fun to re-live those memories

for one month each year.

In my search for a ritual to acknowledge our loss (which I was stressing over a bit), and in

a way have some sort of a memorial, I came across a Christmas ornament for a girl that

simply reads, “My First Christmas in Heaven.” How appropriate. This suits us. In addition,

our daughter was to be born at Christmas. I just ordered that ornament today complete

with the day of conception and the date of the loss. It will be a sweet reminder each year

when we pull out that Christmas ornament, acknowledge our daughter, and add her to

our family ritual. In short, she will never be forgotten. She is now, and always will be, a

part of our family history and tradition.

For those struggling with infertility, adoption or miscarriages, I think the ritual suggestion

was a very good one. A nice thing to keep in the back of your mind should you, or anyone

you love, have a loss. Everyone has different preferences or ideas, but I wanted to share

what we will be doing to acknowledge the baby girl we lost. It took me a while to think

about what is best for us so remember there is no need to rush on deciding what works

for you. I hope that by sharing this story, maybe I have given you a tool or an idea in the

event you end up going through a similar circumstance.

As I have said before, I have decided to be optimistic. I choose to be happy. I choose to

believe that our daughter is on my mom’s lap in heaven because she wanted a little piece

of us, especially at Christmas. We too will have a little piece of my mom and daughter at

Christmas.

Thanks for sharing, reading, sending me texts, messages, emails, etc. Please remember

that the Secret Handshake (see prior post) will always be extended. So many people of

all ages, races, sexual preferences are going through this and you most likely do not

know it. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Again, please see The Secret Handshake.

As always, socks (aka xoxo according to my spell-check) :)

First Published Wednesday, August 29, 2012

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