When does the phase of “this would have been my baby’s first…” end?
I never went through this with my first miscarriage. Maybe the first pregnancy just wasn’t as real to me; I didn’t know I was pregnant until I miscarried, so the emotional attachment wasn’t there the way it was the second time. I noticed a few milestones, but it wasn’t as much of an issue. I do tend to be a person who notices milestones, anniversaries, etc., of even the most obscure things…call it OCD, it’s just the way I am.
Now it’s like there’s this constant reminder in my head…this would have been my baby’s first Fourth of July…my baby’s first Halloween…my baby’s first Thanksgiving…and now, of course, my baby’s first Christmas.
Over the last few years, Christmas hasn’t been a real thrilling time of year for me anyway, even without this problem. My Christmas spirit has never fully recovered from the time I spent working in retail. The last couple of years haven’t been quite as depressing, but Christmas in general is more about frayed nerves and frenzied shopping than togetherness, the spirit of giving, etc. It has taken considerable effort for me to get “into” Christmas over the last few years. It’s only the last three or four years that the sight of poinsettias hasn’t filled me with dread.
Now, I have the added delight of that little voice in my head reminding me at the most inopportune moments that this would have been my baby’s first Christmas. Argh. When does this “first” crap end? Please tell me it doesn’t change to “this would have been my baby’s SECOND…”.
I really do try not to dwell on any of this. Sometimes it just sneaks up on me, or I’ll see something that reminds me. While shopping last night, they had “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments…tell me I’m not the only one who just wants to die when they see stuff like that.
In general, I really am doing pretty well with the miscarriage. I don’t obsess over it constantly. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about it, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve come a long way since last year. It’s just that sometimes, things remind me, and I get that sick feeling in my stomach. And this time of year, those little reminders seem to be quite a bit more frequent.
Eddie loves Christmas, and he’s tried so hard the last couple of years to help me get into it. I always feel bad because I feel like I’m pulling him down with me, but it’s just one of those things that is really, really hard for me to get into, even without “baby’s first” syndrome hanging over my head.
But, we’ll have Christmas together, and we’ll have a few presents, some Christmas weenies*, and enjoy some time off of work. Hopefully I can get through it without crying.
* Christmas weenies are a family tradition – we always got together at my grandparents’ house for Christmas Eve munchies and presents. There were certain perennial favorites that became Christmas Eve staples: Ruffles potato chips (HAD to be Ruffles), eggnog with Seagram’s 7 (or 7-Up, for us non-drinkers), fruitcake (YES, WE LIKE FRUITCAKE), cookies, and various other things. Amidst all the goodies, there has always been a casserole dish of those little mini-sausages (smokies, I guess they’re called) in either a sweet BBQ sauce or a sweet and sour sauce. They were dubbed, and have forever remained, Christmas weenies. If there’s one thing that can, and usually does to a certain extent, resurrect my Christmas spirit, it’s Christmas weenies.
So…bring on the Christmas weenies, and let’s hope that 2008 is not the year of “this would have been my baby’s SECOND…”