I was recently commiserating with a friend about the Holidays. Holidays are a fucking minefield for survivors of infant loss and RPL. Holidays in the wake of a loss are hell.
All of my family members are incredibly supportive, but some of them....well, as kind as they are, they take great comfort in stating aloud at the dinner table how "lucky" we are, how gratitude fills our hearts. I will share with you this: Having hosted Christmas dinners for a number of years now, I have come to expect those moments where I will crawl in my skin. Where the grief of loss is too overwhelming and I excuse myself from the kitchen to take the longest shower in creation.
I don't need reminding that Niblet is a miracle. I don't need reminding that I am incredibly lucky to be in a loving marriage with a beautiful roof over my head.
To those of you who are facing grief this season, I offer this incredible essay, which articulates the minefield better than I ever could:
"Telling me to only focus on my blessings and not what’s missing this
holiday season is like telling me to forget if I had lost all my limbs.
Yes, I’d still be thankful for what I had left and yes I’d also be
deeply sad for what is missing."