Christmas will be different this year.
I tried to get my Christmas shopping done quickly because I felt so panicked everytime I had to go out. Seems everywhere I went I was ambushed. Racks of little Christmas dresses and matching shoes seemed to mock me and stockings embroidered “Baby’s First Christmas” left me feeling punched in the gut.
There is just such an emptiness, and it feels like in all the cheerful anticipation and bustling, my precious little girl has been forgotten.
People seem to put a time limit on grief, and it seems the older your child is, the more time that is allotted. I don’t understand this, because there is tremendous grief whether you lost a child that was 10, or a baby that left straight from your womb. We don’t have Christmas memories to grieve, but we grieve the Christmas memories we will never create.
Christmas has come although we hoped to wake finding it had already passed this year. We are thankful to be surrounded by family and are holding our littles ones tighter than ever and breathing prayers of thanks to have them here to share in the joy and the pain.
Every time I hear “oh hear the angel voices”… my eyes fill with tears because I know my little girl’s voice has joined that angelic choir this year. I am clinging to the promise that one day I will join her and get to hear that beautiful music for myself…
Until then… I am wrestling this pain and determined that I will choose hope in whatever pit I may find myself standing.
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
-Horatio G. Spafford
6 thoughts on “Christmas, unraveled.”
I love you Hannah. I know this is such a hard Christmas and I pray for you all the time. Ellie will never be forgotten, no matter how many Christmas times pass before we get to meet her again. Do you know that “It is Well with my Soul” is my all time favorite hymn? I love you!
I'm a Facebook friend of Linda STubb's…and I don't have kids, so I can't totally understand the grief you are experiencing. However, I know that God is faithful…and I don't think there's a time limit on grief. I still miss my grandmother, but I know she's dancing in heaven and healthy and happy 🙂 🙂 I”ll keep you and your family in my prayers!!!! Extra love and hugs from the ocean shores of California, Heather 🙂
Love you Han! I am so thankful to have a sister who chooses hope above all else…even when it hurts beyond what I can imagine.
Thank you, Hannah, for that precious post that speaks I know to many who have had the same experience of loss. I pray God will grant you much joy as you celebrate with your family.
Dear Hannah and family, I'm feeling your pain. On 11/15/10, my only daughter, almost 40, gave birth to our only grandchild, Delainey, who has Trisomy 18, a fatal chromosome disorder. The Lord keeps blessing us with her presence. She celebrated her first birthday,second Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. She was to have corrective heart surgery in December but it was canceled as the doctors said it would not help her pulmonary hypertension. They also would NOT put in a G-tube in her stomach for feeding. She is fed by an ng-tube in her nose and she is still on oxygen. We have lived with the realization we could lose her anytime. I love your heart for your sweetheart daughter, and you're right there's no limit on grief. I have been praying for you (found you thru Prairie Flower Farm). I know the Lord is with you. May PEACE fill your heart this year. You know you will see her again. Love, Sue
You precious ladies are such a blessing to me. Hearing your open hearts and tender words is encouraging. Thank you for being a part of my life and for all the prayers you have so selflessly offered.
Susan, I have been praying for your precious Delainey. I was crushed when Linda told me the surgery hadn't been successful. I wish I had the words to say…for you or for her mommy… I am still hoping and praying. May you all enjoy every priceless moment she graces your lives, and be filled with peace and encouragement that surpasses your fears.