Did you know that December 25th is very likely not Jesus’ birthday? I don’t mean to trivialize it, but the bible doesn’t name a specific day. There’s no mention of the celebration of Jesus’ nativity in the Gospels or Acts. Certain facts suggest it was likely during a season where the weather was less brutal. We celebrate the birth of Jesus on the 25th of December because it was a time when celebrations surrounding the winter solstice were already occurring across Europe. Piggy backing on those celebrations encouraged the spread of Christianity. If Christmas closely resembled a pagan holiday, then pagans would be more likely to accept it and accept God, so the story goes.
I’m not suggesting that there’s no historical or spiritual significance to Christmas, nor that it shouldn’t be celebrated. However, the significance of the holiday isn’t in the date.
Continue reading “Day 50: The Season of Life”
I don’t know about you, but when I think about closure, I think about moving on, moving past, “getting over it” as some say. I couldn’t fathom how I would ever be able to get over this, though. As I started interacting with more and more women who had been through a similar situation, I couldn’t stop thinking about this concept of moving on. From the outside looking in it appeared that they had moved along. They were gracious with their time and shared stories of their loss and heartache but each one included a sentiment of, “it does get better”. I had a hard time understanding how they got to where they were. How was it that they could talk about their loss and their pain but still have joy in their life? Continue reading “Day 10: Closure”
I’d been told to expect certain trigger days, where the grief would come barreling at me. There’d be days, no matter how far away from the event I was, where the wind would be knocked right out of me. And the pain would be just as sharp and raw as the very first day. I expected today to be one of those days. Continue reading “Day 9: Grace”
It has been 36 days since my miscarriage and I’ve written down my feelings since day one. Some days the words flow easily. On others I find that I can only write a few words. But I write every single day, except for Day 8.
Continue reading “Day 8: Angel Number 8”
While the grief process isn’t linear or universal, I found myself progressing through the traditional stages of grief in the prescribed order and I seemed to do so pretty quickly. I moved fairly seamlessly from the denial stage of grief straight into the arms of anger. Continue reading “Day 7: Anger”
There wasn’t much to say or write in the days that followed. Looking back there was progress made, but at the time I just felt numb. It seemed that there were no more tears left to cry and I felt as though nothing really mattered anymore. This was such a foreign feeling to me. I am not this type of person. I always have a plan. I know how to get things done and get them done efficiently. If there’s a problem, I can solve it! This concept of sitting around, not giving two shits about whether or not there’s something for dinner or if the dog gets walked or whether I ever get out of my PJs is not who I am. I’m an overachiever, but I couldn’t care less right now about achieving anything. Continue reading “Days 5 & 6: Numb”
I found out that we had lost the baby when I was in Las Vegas. I was there for a work conference. My mom & I had planned a mother-daughter weekend before the conference started. She didn’t know I was pregnant and on Saturday I shared the exciting news. By Sunday afternoon the weekend took a terrible turn and we found ourselves in the ER where I heard the doctor say, “We can’t find a heartbeat and that’s very concerning.”. Continue reading “Day 4: Scared”