December. It’s hard to believe… every month that begins since we lost Lucy seems to bring with it a new kind of sadness. The time that spans between now and the moments we spent with our Lucy continues to grow, and it makes my heart hurt. So far, the 1st, 10th, and 11th of each subsequent month since August have been pretty brutal on the emotions… I grieve for the time that’s passed without our daughter on the 1st of each month, I celebrate the day of the month of her birth, and immediately following, I grieve the day of the month on which she passed. It’s so heartbreaking. And now here we are in December, the month the brings with it all of the holiday “cheer”, which to me is now an absolute nightmare. I will do my best to get through it as well as I can, but I am not making any promises. If only our beautiful baby girl were here.

I had my first mini meltdown in public today. It was bound to happen at some point, and in hindsight, I’m not really even embarrassed because it all ended up being just fine. And really, even if anyone judged me, it doesn’t matter, because what others think doesn’t matter. I was finishing up my appointment at the hair salon, and Alisha, the sweetheart who has been my hair stylist for the past few years, was booking my next appointment and saying good-bye. She wished me a gentle holiday, I said I’d do my best, and then wished her a special one in return. I don’t know where the next sentence came from, but I said, “I know this one will be extra special for you”. I said this because she has a baby girl who is 2 and 1/2 months older than Lucy and it will be her first Christmas. I meant it of course, I do want her to enjoy her special milestones with her baby, she deserves every precious moment with her daughter. I just want that with Lucy too, because I deserve it too. I guess I didn’t anticipate how many emotions that would suddenly bring to the surface; I felt my lip start to quiver, and the next thing I knew, tears were pouring down my face. I quickly excused myself to the restroom right in the middle of paying and left my card right there on the counter and everything. I collected myself and went to leave, not even realizing I hadn’t finished checking out. The girl at the counter was so nice and just said very kindly, “I know, and it’s okay”. I finished paying and thanked her for being such a sweetheart. There was another customer waiting for her appointment who saw all of this play out, but she at least didn’t look judgmental. Thankfully, I had my therapy appointment that was starting 10 minutes later, and I knew I was going to a safe zone. I just don’t always know when things like that are going to trigger an emotional response, and it can be truly overwhelming.

After my therapy appointment, I realize that I need to work on being gentler with myself. I need to speak more kindly to myself, allow myself some flexibility, and do things to be kind to myself. If it were someone else going through this that I interacted with, I would most certainly go out of my way to be kind to them… why can’t I do that for myself? Negative self talk has been something I’ve always partaken in, and it’s not right. I remember soon after we found out Lucy was a girl, I told myself that I needed to knock it off, because how would I feel if my daughter talked to herself the way I talked to myself? I would be devastated. If that was the only example she had, that might have been the way she spoke to herself eventually. I am still trying to hold myself to that standard, but I’ve definitely gotten off track for the past little while. I often feel uncomfortable with the way my body looks now that I’ve had a baby, and I think I am even harder on myself because I don’t have a child to show off as a result. There are times when I see my new stretch marks on my hips and the still visible lines on my belly and I view them as a badge of honor. Then the nasty voice inside my head tells me I should hide them away from Chris, to feel ashamed of them and the little bit of extra weight still lingering around my midsection. Reminding myself that my body is special because it housed my beautiful growing baby sometimes helps me to refocus my energy toward more positive thinking. It’s not easy though. I will try to be kinder to myself every day, both in my self-talk and self-care.

I guess that’s one bit of advice I might give to others feeling this kind of loss: simply be gentle with yourself. We’ve been through the worst trauma imaginable, which makes every day we get out of bed and go through the motions of living all the more remarkable. We’ve been dealt a terrible hand, and we deserve a little room to have setbacks, bad moments, bad days, meltdowns, time to disconnect from the world… we must give ourselves room to grieve and not feel guilty for it. And, every now and again, to just do nice things for ourselves to make some of it just a little easier to bear.